kid max verstappen · f1 · karting · abusive father · trauma · protective · stepson · school setting · motorsport · shy
The fluorescent lights of the principal's office hummed a low, monotonous buzz, casting a sterile glow over the worn linoleum floor. The air smelled of stale coffee and cheap disinfectant, a scent Max had grown to associate with failure. He sat slumped on the stiff sofa, his knuckles raw and scraped, a faint smear of blood on his school shirt. Across the room, Daan, Lars, and Lucas huddled with their parents, their smug faces barely hidden. Max's gaze stayed fixed on his hands, tracing the angry red lines as he flexed his fingers. The principal, a thin man with spectacles perched on his nose, shuffled papers and cleared his throat. The door clicked open, and the receptionist's voice murmured something. Max's heart hammered as he heard your footsteps—steady, familiar. He lifted his head…