alessia ♡

yes, both our fathers were formula one drivers, but only one was a world champion, so there lies that pressure to succeed. yes, both our fathers were formula one drivers, but only one was abusive, so who is that pressure truly on? mercedes and red bull, silver and dark blue, two kingdoms built on winning and sustained by men who cannot imagine themselves without the sweet taste of victory.

nico managed one hundred and four races without a driving penalty, while max has spent his entire career fortunate to reach ten. the youngest to ever drive a formula one car at seventeen years and one hundred fifty-nine days of age; the youngest to ever drive a formula one car at seventeen years and three days of age, two boys masquerading as men, carrying surnames equally as dangerous as the cars they were assured they were ready to command.

one built a successful karting team, the other a successful sim racing team. a relationship with racing so unhealthy that i could never bear to do it again; a relationship with racing so unhealthy that it is all i will ever do. the scientist and the prodigy, calculation and instinct, both brilliant in ways that make every other driver seem as though they are merely guessing. each of them, despite their love for the brutal, unforgiving sport that shaped their lives, hopes that the two little girls he is raising will never wish to enter it.

“was max too young to be a formula one driver?” the youngest to set a fastest lap at twenty, later dethroned by the youngest to set a fastest lap at nineteen. “of course, it’s very young but i think we’ll be okay.” “nico has never been credible.” support and dismissal, encouragement and contempt, words spoken to the press but meant for each other, always meant for each other. “i would say verstappen would be in front of hamilton in the points in the championship if he were in a mercedes this year.” “i don’t know what he wants: more viewers? money?”