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only wish you the best

Summary:

Daniel retires from Formula 1 after the 2022 season, but manages in his own unique way to say Goodbye and Thank you to everyone he’s worked with over the years.

That is to everyone but Max.

Max tries to figure out why.

Notes:

Hello beautiful people,

i can’t actually believe I’m finally posting this, because it’s been over a year that this story has haunted me for still being unfinished.

Originally it was meant to be part of a holiday challenge, the prompt being “Thanksgiving Cards” and when I started writing it, it still looked like Daniel was not going to be on the grid this season. Despite things being very different now - not to mention much better - I still kept the original premise of Daniel leaving.

Hope you enjoy my nonsense rambling about these two idiots being hopelessly in love and ruining it all by not knowing how to communicate it.

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Wish I could say it's something I really mean
But I want you happy whether or not it's with me
I wanna say,
"I wish that you never left"
Oh, but instead, I only wish you the best
I wanna say,
"Without you, everything's wrong"
And you were everything I need all along

 


 

Tom Clarkson interviewing Daniel Ricciardo for the Beyond the Grid Podcast 5 days after the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix:


Tom: Do you know why you have to come back in 2024/25, whenever it is? It's because you need a proper sendoff. From the drivers, from the paddock.

Daniel: Ahh, I actually thought about that, and of course I would appreciate it, but it‘s not something that I would feel like I need or again, If I never race again I would be totally okay with … like … not having a big hurrah like Seb. If it is the end for me, I don‘t feel like it‘s something that I missed out on. I‘m cool with that.


Tom: Could the reason for that be that you found your own way in saying goodbye to the paddock? I heard a rumor you send around cards to everyone after Abu Dhabi.


Daniel: Ohh, you did? It wasn‘t meant to be such a big thing, but I just really felt like it was the time to say thank you to some people who spent the last decade with me, because when you're in F1, you live in this bubble and you forget that life outside of it exists, we live such a crazy, intense life, but when you leave it, it all just disappears kinda. You leave that life behind. Some relationships and friendships I‘ve built over this will definitely stay with me and I‘m grateful for every single one, Seb for example turned out to be a real friend this year and surely it won‘t be the last time I‘ve seen him. But, my point is… if you leave this crazy cycle it‘s hard to stay in touch with people who you have been close friends with due to … let‘s call it proximity, however all of these friendships and relationships still mean something to me, so I wanted to let the people in question know that I‘ll always appreciate them and the time I have spent with them over the years.

Tom: What gave you the idea? It‘s quite unusual for a driver leaving the sport, at least temporarily, to send goodbye cards to everyone. But then again, I guess we should have expected something from you, that‘s just classic DR.


Daniel: Haha, got to keep you all entertained. Goodbye Cards, yeah, I guess you can call them that, because even if I do come back, many of the people on this year's grid won’t be there. And I don‘t know if then the grid would be any like the group of drivers we had this season, so it felt important to do something. I got the idea when we were in the States a few weeks ago, them having Thanksgiving and all.


Tom: So, you really did send them on Thanksgiving?


Daniel: Yes, I actually did, coincidently Thanksgiving happened to be yesterday when we flew out of Abu Dhabi, my last race for the unforeseen future and it felt like perfect timing to finish this chapter of my life by saying thank you.

 


 

 

24. November 22

Ironically enough it‘s on Lando‘s stupid jpg channel, where Max notices it for the first time. They're still in Abu Dhabi after testing to film some stuff in preparation for the holidays, mostly the Secret Santa segment the F1 channel hosts every year as well as a few other media projects for the Red Bull channels. It‘s a lot of time spent waiting around for them to get all the angles and technical equipment right, maybe due to the fact that the PR team is still just as hungover as Max is after all of them spending the last few days celebrating the exceptional season they‘ve had. He tries to stay patient, reminding himself over and over again that this is part of his job and it‘s not their fault, but all he really wants to do is get out of here and be with his family. Especially since all of them made the trip out to Abu Dhabi to celebrate and be here with him when they couldn‘t be for most of the season.

To distract himself from his growing annoyance and the underlying boredom Max opens Instagram and starts scrolling mindlessly. He likes a few posts, but nothing really catches his attention until Lando’s and Daniel’s twin jpg channels and their photo dumps of Abu Dhabi appear on screen. He doesn‘t care about Lando‘s ‘Oh look, I‘m a photographer phase’ and has rolled his eyes when he had first seen Daniel strutting around with a camera worth more than any of the equipment Red Bull is currently setting up on the balcony of his hotel room, obviously having been infected with Lando‘s new found hobby. The thing is he knows them, counts the McLaren boys as two of his closest friends on the grid, which is why he gives them a month until they lose interest and move on to the next exciting hobby.

Thankfully though they haven‘t yet so Max can contain his boredom by looking through their pictures, smiling at a few that show him and the other drivers in various ranges of emotion; goofy after an unexpected pole, annoyed during media day, affectionate with the two of them trying to capture memories. There are a few from Seb‘s dinner, which he likes and others from the two dorks fooling around and making all the people around them laugh and smile. It shines through the cameras, even the pictures of himself are better than any of the paparazzi have taken of him. Maybe he can bribe Stefano Domenicali to ban the professional photographers from the paddock and give the job to Daniel and Lando instead. It‘s a ridiculous notion of course, one he reminds himself will even be less likely when both of them will have forgotten about photography come pre-season testing.

Then it hits him; Daniel won‘t be in Bahrain, won‘t be on the grid at all next season and for the first time, Max realizes that he can‘t really imagine the job they do and love everyday without his ex-teammate there; crashing interviews, casually offering hugs and checking in whenever Max feels especially done all the shit he has to tolerate off-track. He‘s gonna miss the smile that has brightened up so many days in his professional life.

“Just five more minutes, Max.”, his press officer informs, “Sorry!”

It distracts Max a bit from the realization he‘s just had, the one he isn‘t really sure how to feel about, so he just shrugs and picks up his phone again. Instagram is still open and notifies him immediately that Lando has just posted on his main account. This time it‘s just one photo of a Thanksgiving Card adorned by a childlike drawing of a turkey. A grinning Lando proudly shows the card to the camera, obscuring most of the loopy handwriting from view in the process. But Max still recognizes Daniel‘s clumsy way with words, always on the cusp of oversharing and still somehow leaving out all the important information.

Max knows that the card means something to Lando, knows that the fragile friendship he and Daniel had built almost came too late and was only allowed to evolve when the pressure of performing against each other was lifted a bit. He is happy for them, his two jokers finally getting along.

The PR-Team calls him in, finally finished with the set up and he forgets all about Daniel’s card and Lando‘s glee, focusing on the stupid questions Marketing has prepared for him this time. Favorite Christmas moment, seriously? Just do better, please!

 

 

9. December 22

The next time Max hears about the Thanksgiving cards, he‘s waiting again, this time for his drink at the bar, when Charles joins him. It‘s painfully clear that neither of them enjoy partaking in tonight’s FIA Gala and would rather be anywhere else than answer repetitive questions about their season and accept awards that mean nothing outside of this room. They just wait for their drinks in silence for a minute, charging their social batteries before they have to go out again and charm the money of sponsors. Then Charles gives him a look, the curious one Max has learned to be wary of.

“So what did he write you?” Charles' accent is stronger than usual.

For a moment Max wonders if that’s why he didn’t understand the question, but Charles waits expectantly so he asks him to elaborate.

“Daniel”, is the elaboration, “What did he write you on the Thanksgiving Card?”

Somehow that explains exactly nothing and Max, annoyed, is reminded why he usually avoids Charles and his stupid curious look.

“What Thanksgiving Card?”, he asks despite himself. He still has to wait for his drink anyway.

Now it’s Charles' turn to stare, obviously confused. Quite frankly, he looks ridiculous with his gaping mouth and widened eyes and Max would tease him about it if there wasn’t this uneasy feeling forming in the pit of his stomach. The same feeling he used to get when Daniel wouldn’t speak to him after a fucked-up race, putting his fists through walls instead.

“Mate!”, Charles manages finally, voice still full of surprise, “ the Thanksgiving Card. Dan gave one to every driver after Abu Dhabi, I thought you would have yours already. I got mine weeks ago!”

Now it’s Max's turn to be confused, “He isn’t even American. Since when does he send out Thanksgiving Cards?”

“Does it matter? I think it’s nice, saying ‘Thank you’ like that before he leaves.”

“But he’s not leaving for forever, what’s the point?”, Max argues, irritated.

Charles gives him a look that summarizes exactly how different their opinions on the topic are. It almost felt like he was mocking and pitying Max at the same time. Damn Charles and his expressive face!

“Anyway. Did he really not give you yours yet or sent it already?”

“No, he didn’t. Obviously”, Max answered, indignantly, “But I’m sure it’s just stuck in the mail.”

Charles' expressive face is once again quick to show his disbelief, before he schools it into a more neutral expression.

“Sure.”

Max rolls his eyes, lets Charles know what a terrible liar he is and plays the whole thing off until his drink finally arrives. But when he walks back to his table a few minutes later, he can’t help but wonder.

Why did he not get a card yet? Or at the very least knew that Daniel was handing them out to everyone? Charles seemed very sure that all of the drivers had already received one. And Daniel, having been a close friend of his for most of his adult life, had to know how much Max loved receiving cards. It just didn’t make sense why he hadn’t given one to Max yet.

Then again, maybe Max was overthinking this and putting entirely too much trust in Charles' knowledge of when everyone received their cards. Yeah, that must be it. His card would surely be waiting for him when he got back to Monaco.

However, the uneasy feeling failed to leave him the entire night of the Party.

 

 

11. December 22

Another time and place, another party and this time one that Max could actually enjoy, being filled with people he loves and ones he can ignore, if there wouldn't be this uneasy feeling that had never quite left him since he first saw Lando’s post. However the food is great, the drinks even better and Red Bull Racing on a high to celebrate a truly unique season, so Max does his best to spend the evening forgetting about the stupid Thanksgiving Cards.

And it works surprisingly well. He’s taking futuristic looking shots with GP and his mechanics and gets stuck in a long conversation with Christian, whose pride and praise over Max’ achievements this season is so genuinely touching that it makes him uncomfortable. He has no idea how to react to his boss's kind words, so he hugs him awkwardly and lets Checo pull him away to do an unhealthy number of tequila shots.

He is almost a little too drunk, when they call for him. It’s time for the customary speech at the end of a season and thank god to years of training Max knows to sober up just enough to still be witty and entertaining while they ask him questions about this season.

It’s not enough however to be prepared for Daniel’s giant stupid face smiling down at him from the big screen. His throat tightens uncomfortably, when he hears his voice, the accent now heavy and warm like Max has only rarely heard it. He knows the reason for it, knows Daniel too well not to notice the signs of happiness on his face and in his gestures. He can’t focus on the meaning of Daniel’s words. He knows they're not meant for him anyway. It’s another Thank you, another Goodbye, another nail in the coffin that confirms the era of Danny Ric in Formula 1 has come to an end.

Max feels hot and cold wash over him like a fever dream. It’s easy to lay blame with all the alcohol he consumed tonight, but deep down he knows that all of this mess is somehow linked to his ex-teammate. The very one that didn’t think it important enough to send him one of the damned cards.

And of course, when Max has had time to sober up a little in the bathroom, trying to erase the remnant’s of bile from his tongue with water and Red Bull and deciding this night can still be fun if he just forgets about Daniel and the cards, he finds himself being the center of a conversation that lets him do anything but that. He wanders off after the air in the room becomes too stifling and stumbles into a few of the Mechanics, taking a break for a smoke outside. They greet him with big smiles and pad’s on the back. Most of them work for Checo’s side of the garage now, so they don’t have many chances to interact with him directly. Max smiles back warmly, hoping to catch some new gossip when he realizes what they were talking about.

“In 10 years in this business I can’t remember a nicer bloke than him. The card was just the icing on the cake. Normally I don’t give a shit about such things, but this one I won’t ever forget.”

Of. Fucking. Course. His luck is apparently all used up for the year.

The other’s lift their glasses to toast, while Max contemplates how he ended up here again and how to answer if someone would ask him about the cards. Thankfully there are quite a few people in this round, so everybody shares a little story of their special Danny Ric Goodbye Gift or what they’ve heard from others. It becomes apparent very quickly that every single person who Daniel has ever worked with at Red Bull, all of the mechanics and engineers, the PR and Marketing Teams, people in the factory, Christian, Helmut and even Checo have got a personalized card to show for the experience. Everybody except him.

It causes the tight, uneasy feeling in Max’s stomach to appear again.

When it’s his turn to answer, all of them expecting a story about his own unique little message from Daniel, he can only shrug his shoulders and offer a weak excuse.

“Maybe it got lost in the mail.”

 

 

19. December 2022

There had never really been the question if Daniel had sent each one of the drivers a card. But Max receives the answer anyway when the Secret Santa Video airs and he is not in a good headspace to deal with the implication the simple three minute video makes.
First of all it‘s very clear that Daniel gave the media team an actual holiday by serving them content, within minutes of being online, the video has already thousands of views, which is probably how Max‘ youtube algorithm figures out it would be worth the watch. He klicks on it right away despite knowing better. Any distraction from the never ending problems that are having his together family during the christmas time is more than welcome.

Except when he watches the video, the fights and squabbles of his family seem not nearly as bad as watching 18 people solemnly praise Daniel over his special gift, while you didn‘t get a single line. He really thought they were friends, more than friends even at some points in his life. It seems foolish now and Max deletes youtube in it‘s entirety as if the app had betrayed him personally.

He will redownload it later, but for now he wants to stay as far away from anything Daniel related as possible.

 

 

21. December 2022

By now Max is really starting to get sick of people asking him about Daniel‘s cards or feeling like he would be the right person to talk in detail about the thoughtful words the Australian chose for yet another friend or colleague. It is the forever repetitive reminder that Daniel didn‘t care enough about Max.

The worst moments are when someone brings up the by now dreaded topic while a camera is pointed at his face. So when he makes it through the entire segment on Servus TV with Christian and Sebastian without anyone bringing up Daniel, Max is already inwardly celebrating to have made it through the evening without anyone mentioning Daniel. It gives him a little hope that he's gotten through the worst of it and now with the season officially finished and everybody moving on, he feels like he finally can forget about this stupid thanksgiving card nonsense or at least pretend to be over it.

But then there is Seb, forever observant, who eyes him with barely hidden concern when they wrap up the interview. It makes Max feel seen in a way he doesn’t like one bit and he already scolds himself for thinking he got away with it that easily. But maybe he got lucky and Seb won’t bring it up, won’t dare to share whatever he seems to know. Max hates himself for the thought that crosses his mind, that a part of him still wants to ask Seb about it despite it all.

He doesn’t have to. Because later when Christian has goaded them both, as his Golden Championship Winning Boys, to go out for dinner and celebrate, Seb does find a moment to derail the perfectly safe conversation they were having to talk about Daniel and what he’s been up to since the season has finished. Christian chimes in with words of praise for Daniel and distaste over his situation, clearly opposed to the fact that his not so secret third favorite driver won't be on the grid next season and they talk back about McLarens failure and Daniel’s Red Bull achievements for a moment. Max nods politely and agrees, but mainly he’s focused on ignoring the way Seb keeps looking at him.

But then Christian excuses himself to accept an important phone call while they wait for their food, and Max has no way to hide when Seb turns to him.

“So, wanna talk about what's been going on with you and Daniel lately?“

Straight to the point then, Max wants to roll his eyes. Because if it’s one thing that Seb can’t be, it’s subtle. His loaded question almost sounds like they‘re in a relationship, when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

“Not really”, Max stalls, picking up his drink and eyeing the older men suspiciously, “because there is nothing going on. We haven’t talked since the season finished.“

Seb just nods, clearly not buying it. “And that is normal?“

The clear challenge hidden in the simple question almost makes Max choke on his drink. Because of course it isn’t, but why exactly does Seb know that.

“You know Daniel, he‘s busy in Australia and once he doesn’t see you anymore, he‘s like a goldfish, forgetting all about you til he sees you again.“

Even if partially true, it’s a lame excuse and they both know it. Max hopes it’s enough for Seb to drop the topic though. Of course he doesn’t get the hint.

“For somebody who forgot all about you, he mentioned you quite a lot last week.“

Fucking beautiful, Max thinks snidely, because now he knows exactly what Seb is trying to gain here.

“I don’t need you to make up excuses for him”, he says icily, then adds a little softer, “or your pity for that matter. Can we stop talking about this now?”

Seb sighes, but still seems set on getting his point across. He can be a stubborn little bastard when he wants to be and apparently, today is one of those days.

“All I‘m saying is talk to him”, he emphasizes the last few words as if it's Max, who is being a coward here. It grates Max entirely the wrong way, his hurt and frustration on full display even if that's the last thing he wants Seb to know and even worse to tell Daniel about.

“What‘s the point? He is done with F1, he said his goodbye‘s and there clearly wasn‘t anything left to say between us. What do you want me to do? He can go play happy retirement now back in Australia. See if I care.“

“Max.“

He hates how soft Seb‘s voice can sound. Max can’t even decide what’s worse, the obvious surprise or the fatherly concern lacing his tone. It reminds him that he’s acting like a petulant child, despite the fact that there aren’t even that many years between them.

Fine, maybe he is sulking but Max has every fucking right to be after the shit Daniel has pulled. Maybe he could be the bigger man and try reaching out first. But no matter how much he wants to deny it, it hurts being singled out and left behind like this, especially when it’s by the one person who was supposed to actually know him.

So Seb doesn’t get to ask this of him. Just because Daniel is too much of a coward to do it himself, it’s not on Max to fix whatever is left of their fractured friendship.
He’s done that before. He can’t do this again when he knows it will always end with Daniel leaving after all.

“He is sorry about your card”, Seb says softly, clearly not ready to give up.

“Hah“, Max means to laugh, but it comes out as a pitifully, strangled sound. He shoots Seb a warning glare, when he sees him reaching his hand out to place it comfortingly on Max’s shoulder. He doesn’t want his comfort, doesn’t want him to understand how much Daniel still has over him.

Most of all he wants this conversation to end. He simply doesn’t have the nerve to talk about this with yet another third person when Daniel himself hasn’t answered a single one of his texts or calls. But whatever helper syndrome Seb seemed to have developed during his early retirement, he was adamant to say the words Max only really wanted to hear from Daniel.

“He never meant for this thing to become such a public thing. You know him, Max, he would never do this to you, not intentionally. Even if you won’t talk to him, you must believe that his intention was never to hurt you or make you feel left out.”

“Honestly, Seb, he‘s given every single person but me one of these shit cards. What did he expect, that no one would notice or care? How long has he been in Formula 1 again, because apparently he has learned absolutely nothing about how all of this works if that is meant to be his fucking excuse.“

He sees Seb is about to protest or find some other excuse, but Max really does not want to hear it. Hoping it will finally put an end to their conversation, he relents before the German can say anything else.

“Fine. I believe you, okay? He didn’t do this on purpose. And if it makes you happy, I'll even send him a stupid Christmas Card. Now, can we be done with this?”

There aren’t enough words to describe how torn Seb looks right now, but he nods and that's the end of it. When Christian returns a few minutes later it is as if they never talked about Daniel at all.

 

 

Christmas 2022

When the holidays finally roll around, Max is actually pissed, no matter how much he has tried not to be. Not only has he found out by now that basically everybody and their mother have received a Thanksgiving Card from Daniel, but also that Daniel has been especially careful avoiding him. He did end up fulfilling what he had so sarcastically promised Seb. He actually sent a stupid Christmas Card to Australia, which in itself was a message as much as a peace offering.

Only that despite Max’s foolish hopes to the contrary, it didn’t receive an answer. He knows Daniel has nothing left to say to him when the messages he regretted sending in his weakest moments and the call when Europe celebrates the new year, all go unanswered as well.

He doesn‘t understand. Seb’s words, no matter how much he hadn’t wanted to hear them, had given him some hope. So he’d gone and done the stupid thing, had caved like he always did and reached out first, fully expecting Daniel to finally get the message. But he didn’t and this time it was so much worse.

Daniel had needed his distance from him before, needed that reassurance of figuring things out on his own. He’d done the same in the midst of McLaren emptying their dirty laundry for everyone to see. Effectively shutting Max out and while he hadn’t liked it, Max had accepted it to be Daniel’s right. After all they had never really decided what exactly this thing between them was, more than a friendship, but not really a relationship.

So he had stood by and endured when Daniel hadn’t allowed him anywhere near him. Had suffered silently and patiently through seeing Daniel so clearly hurting and trying his best to hide it and not being able to do anything about it. He had even understood as he watched other drivers make public statements and give friendly hugs and praise to Daniel when he needed them most, knowing that it was different between them. Even if it wasn’t fair, he had swallowed his envy and hadn’t pressured Daniel to accept the comfort he so desperately wanted to provide. All the while he had understood that pushing Daniel on this would mean losing him. Like an unspoken rule they had agreed upon years ago, that had been put on trial many times during their time together.

Only this time Max had followed all the rules, hadn’t pushed and kept his distance only to lose Daniel after all.

They were about to start into the new year and the message could not have been any clearer. The distance had been Daniel’s choice, he was happy on his continent miles away from Max and there being nothing but radio silence between them.

So Max accepts it, because what else is he supposed to do? He tries not to think about Daniel when he spends his holiday with his family and his friends and most of the time he succeeds. Or he pretends to succeed, but who would know the difference?

 


March 2023

Arriving in Bahrain is what makes him realize how much he’s been kidding himself all along. Usually he loved the first week of testing, the excitement of starting the new season. But this time he feels more alone than he could have imagined, even while surrounded by his team and everything he loves, that he’s missed during the break.

But starting the new season without Daniel‘s ridiculous jokes and endless sunshine attitude leaves Max with a feeling he can‘t even begin to describe. His whole body seems to ache and he is sure, it‘s more than being in the car the first time again after so long. There is nobody yelling “Dildo“ when they do the group photo shoot, nobody making inappropriate jokes or crashing everyone's interviews. Daniel‘s presence is not the only one missed in the paddock of course. Seb‘s absence, who has become a constant with his cheeky wisdom and determination to make their sport better, is noticeable during the first drivers meeting.

But Max feels like nobody but him understands and feels the weight of Daniel missing, because there have been big celebrations and goodbyes in Seb‘s honor. They all knew he wouldn‘t come back (yet), but Daniel is different. It is as if someone had just forgotten to invite him and nobody but Max cares enough to take notice. It feels like an open flesh wound hurriedly covered with a bandaid. He notices Daniel‘s absence everyday, in the small moments, the quiet ones and hates himself for it.

Others feel it too, he is sure of it, but they all had gotten their goodbye in the form of silly thanksgiving cards, putting a big thank you as a line underneath whatever chapter it was in their life when Daniel had left. Max doesn’t have that, instead he’s left with that uneasy feeling like someone tore out all the important pages of his chapters.

He hates it, knowing everybody had closed the chapter on Daniel. Last year everybody made their big speeches and gestures over how Daniel should be with them, deserves his spot in the midst of them, but now here they are and everybody has moved on beyond caring. Big words and gestures blown away like sand. Nobody even mentions Daniel‘s name.

However unlikely it had seemed last season, he finds comradery in the misery of missing Daniel when he goes out with Lando the night after testing, obviously they can’t really talk about the new cars and setups. Although Lando doesn’t have to spell it out for Max to know that the McLarens are so obviously shit this year, not even Lando‘s talent, which had balanced out the problems last year, can make up for it. Both papaya cars had crashed before they could finish one decent lap. When they are a few drinks in, well Max is, Lanod doesn’t even need the alcohol to be depressing today, Lando starts to rattle on about Oscar, how weird it is having a teammate who was younger than him and that he unwillingly finds himself missing Daniels unmatched way of finding the best in the worst situations.

Max almost wants to point out that there wasn‘t even a year between Lando and Oscar, but then he realizes that Lando might be the only person on the entire grid who misses Daniel too and that Max was the only other driver - except Esteban, but honestly, who cares about Esteban - who can understand how weird it was having a new teammate again after experiencing the joy of working with Daniel.

The Australian really had a way to bring out the best in you, while also making the entire shitty circus that was media not only bearable but actually fun.

“I‘ve never laughed as much during media as I did during the years with him in Red Bull“, Max admits, even though he is glad to have Checo now and enjoyed his time with both Alex and Pierre respectively. But nobody can ever compare to Daniel, who made him feel easy and approachable, uncaring about all the shit they did. In retrospect Daniel probably was probably a big part of why Max finally found himself being able to do media and being liked online. He had found a way to let Max be himself and not overthink about everything.

“Oh man, yeah, I know mate“, Lando laughed, “I don‘t even want to understand how his brain works, all the shit that comes out his mouth.“ But then he adds more seriously, “But I was glad for all the attention he could redirect so easily. I could just go out there and try to do my best without constantly being critiqued about every little thing I do. It‘s even worse now, when they’re constantly comparing me to Oscar. I hate it!“

Max is not sure how to answer that, not trusting himself enough to put into words all the things he’s feeling inside when he thinks about Daniel and the emptiness he’s left with instead.

“I miss him“, Lando says then, unprompted and so easily Max envies him for his ability to talk so openly about his feelings about their former teammate. Instead he just nods his agreement, the contradicting feelings inside him summed up by Lando’s bluntness.

They keep talking about Daniel, Max keeps drinking his gin and tonics and they come to share stories about all the stupid shit Daniel could make them do, all the interviews and ridiculous challenges and more importantly about the kind person the media didn’t always get to see. There was more to Daniel’s addicting smile than joking around and making everybody laugh. He genuinely cared and now it seemed only Lando and Max remembered that about him.

“But everybody knows you were his favorite teammate“, Lando says suddenly, laughing and managing to sound not the least bit bitter. Max can’t join him, the whole thanksgiving card debacle too fresh in his mind to just laugh it off. He must have made a disagreeing sound, because Lando eyes him suspiciously now.

“You do know that, right?“, he points at Max with his index finger, unwilling to let him off the hook that easily.

“Not so sure about that, I was just the longest“, Max murmurs because he’s too drunk to lie. Embarrassed he empties the rest of his gin and tonic to try and hide his hurt.

“Oh mate, I don‘t know, but maybe the fact that Dan used to talk about you at every giving opportunity was a pretty clear sign“, Lando‘s irritation is clear in his voice now, but when Max features stay hard and unforgiving, he says it again with more emphasis, “You can literally google compilations of him talking about you, mate, as if you were F1‘s biggest tragic love story.“

It grates Max the wrong way and he wishes his friend would just let it go.

“Shut up, Lando“, he stresses, harsher than he means to, “As if you don‘t talk about me.“

Lando shrugs but his eyes stay sharp, “I do, it‘s good press and besides, you’re drunk enough that I can admit your talent is breathtaking, anyway, this has nothing to do with the fact that Daniel has an obsession with you.“

“You just said it yourself, Lando, talking about me is good press and Daniel is the king of media, right?“

Then, because he simply can‘t stop himself, he adds, “If he actually cared enough, he would have bothered to send me one of those stupid cards as well.“

Lando‘s eyebrows shoot up, unbelieving and Max knows that his friend has just put two and two together. He doesn’t know if he should feel relieved or embarrassed that somebody now understands that quiet part of him, that he was so desperate to hide til now. Then the words seem to register in Lando’s brain.

“But he did though.“

“What?“

“He did write you one of those cards. I saw it.“

“Well Lando, nice for you that you saw it, then he just didn‘t bother to give it to me. Apparently I wasn‘t as important as all of the other people he went out of his way to say goodbye to.“

“Oh my god“, Lando breathes, “You don‘t know, he actually never gave it to you. I thought you were just angry at him for being a coward, not that you don‘t know.“

“Don‘t know what, Lando?“, Max is on the edge of actually getting angry with his friend now, it’s frustrating to not know whatever Lando seemed to know about Daniel's stupid cards.

“Just wait“, Lando promises with a terrifyingly sure grin plastered across his stupid face.

Max wants to punch him. He orders another Gin and Tonic instead.

 

 

Lando and his stupid camera. Max hadn‘t believed that there would be a day when he would actually be glad for Lando and his stalker photos.

Lando sends him the picture via discord the next morning, explaining that he had to go through his databases to find it and Max had never been so glad he did, opening it up immediately in his own hotel room. It clearly shows Daniel, seemingly unaware of the camera capturing him if Max were to judge his stupid concentrated face, the one he was aware enough not to show during signing sessions and marketing shoots. On the table next to him were a bunch of cards piled up, probably the thousands of thank you cards he wrote to the entire paddock. The thought still stung and Max was tempted to just delete the photo, but when he zoomed in how Lando had told him to do, he realized it was him who the card was addressed to.

Dear Max,
there are not enough words to describe how grateful I am to have met you.
You are special, Maxy, you have been from the very start and I can’t tell you how thankful I am that I got to see you transform from this shy teenager ready to fight the world for his place in our sport into the person you are today. No one can deny your talent and skill, you’re a worthy champion. But you’re so much more than that, the funniest, kindest and most thoughtful person, that I’m incredibly proud I got to call my friend.
The times racing with you, racing against you back when I still could, are some of the most treasured memories during my career.
And about the times off track, I —

Daniels fingers covering up some of the next words, as if even in that moment he needed to hide the truth about his feelings. Max wants to punch him, wants to shake him, wants to yell at him for not trusting him enough. The lines are blurred when he continues reading the last few words he can make out on the card.

Now you don‘t need me anymore and I‘m glad I left you in capable hands. I will still cheer you on, don‘t worry, but I finally feel like I‘m ready to let you go. You have everything you need now and I couldn‘t be happier for you, it was all I ever wished for you and I‘m glad to have been at least a footnote on the great story that you‘ll write for us all.

And I‘m not angry anymore, I realised that if it can‘t be me, I‘m so fucking glad it‘s you.

He is actually crying when he puts the phone down, but the feelings in him are not so easily distinguished. He feels relief and hope flooding through him, but right now there is an old familiar anger as well and it starts to set Max’s skin on fire. How dare he? Max couldn’t believe the implications of that stupid card. He was glad he never got to see the real thing. He would have ripped it up into tiny little pieces, then punched Daniel for good measure for being such an idiot.

For months he had thought Daniel didn’t care enough or that there was nothing left to say between the two of them. How wrong he had been. How wrong Daniel was for believing letting Max go was going to work in the first place. Like it was his fucking decision to make. And on top of all that Daniel had been too much of a coward to tell him, to tell Max face to face that this was it, that they were actually over.

So with little choice Max has to be brave enough for both of them. Fuck Daniel for running away. Fuck him for doing this to Max not only once, but twice.

Only this time Max won’t let him get away with it.

 

 

He should have slept, the jet lag is going to kill him but his body and mind are buzzing with restlessness he is sure won‘t leave him until he reaches his destination. Nineteen hours of being trapped on a flight are hard to endure on a normal day, but with what Max has impulsively decided is a good idea, they are actual torture. He goes back and forth thinking about how much of a mistake it is to fly to Australia to confront Daniel. Will Daniel even let him say a word before he shuts the door in his face? Max doesn’t even want to think about that very real possibility, considering they haven’t talked for nearly half a year.

So he prepares for the worst. If Daniel won’t hear him out, fine. But Max won’t leave without telling him the truth, even if he has to spell it out for him.

Not that he ever used it, but there is a notebook somewhere in his travel bag. It’s one of the old ones; Marketing would give him a scolding for carrying it around, because it still has Aston Martin Red Bull Racing imprinted on the cover. It feels stupidly symbolic when he pulls it out from the bottom of his backpack.

Everything has changed since then, Daniel has left twice. And Max still hasn’t learned how to cope with that. He still doesn’t want to. So picks up his pen.

Daniel,
Respectfully, you are an idiot. I still need you. I will always need you and fuck you for not giving me a choice. So thank you for nothing, because we are not done yet, you don‘t get to say goodbye and fuck off.
Max

 

 

Another few hours of travel pass, then he rents a car, has a mini panic attack after realizing that he doesn’t even know where to go, because he’s never had to drive out to the farm alone, but then he finds Daniel’s address is still saved in his phone. Daniel had put it there himself a long time ago.

So Max starts driving. He puts the piece of paper he’s ripped from the notebook on the dashboard next to his phone navigating his way. They’re both leading him equally to find his destination it seems.

When he finally reaches the farm, he leaves his phone in the car, but puts the paper neatly folded in the pocket of his hoody, despite the fact that it‘s fucking summer in Australia. He feels hot and cold all together, extremely nervous and angry with himself that he just mindlessly flew here to knock on Daniel‘s door and what.

What exactly does he want from Daniel? What does he expect him to do now that Max is here and he can’t hide anymore, can’t run away when Max has even followed him home.

The answer is suddenly clear in his mind, when he sees Daniel walking out of his front door, clearly confused by the unexpected visitor. His eyes widen when they find Max’s. They are not necessarily angry, just really, really surprised. Maybe there is hope in them, maybe Max just wants there to be. Fear overcomes him again, that he read all the signs wrong, that there never was anything left unsaid between them after all. That he imagined it all. But he is already here and unlike Daniel, he isn‘t going to be a coward about this.

“What the hell are you doing here?”, Daniel asks, voice unbelieving, looking at Max like seeing a ghost coming to haunt him.

It’s not the best start. Max’s fingers tighten around the piece of paper in his pocket, tempted to just hand it over and leave. Then he thinks better of it. They need to start saying things, not just hiding them in letters they are never going to send.

“What were you going to write?”, Max asks, which doesn’t make a lot of sense, so he adds, “on my thanksgiving card?”

Daniel’s eyes go wide, his expression so vulnerable that all Max wants to do is bridge the gap between them and close him in his arms to never let him go again.

“How do you...”, Daniel starts, but Max shakes his head, determined.

“Please”, he whispers because he doesn’t trust his voice, “just tell me.”

“That I was letting you go”, Daniel whispers back and Max realizes that there are tears in his eyes. His resolve strengthens, it’s all he needs to know for now.

“Did you?”, he asks and takes a step closer, “did you let me go? Is this it, are we already over?”

“No”, Daniel shakes his head, tears now streaming freely, “I couldn’t. That’s why I never gave you your card”

“Good”, Max states and closes the gap between them, sure and steady, taking Daniel's face in his hands, pulling him towards him until there's nothing between them. Daniel hesitates and just as Max thinks he has got it all wrong somehow, he feels him returning the kiss almost desperately. Daniel is slinging his arms around Max as well and finally, finally the empty feeling leaves, being replaced by the sureness that it isn’t all over yet.

Whatever will be, will be, but there is no goodbye in sight, just a new beginning of something they both weren’t ready before.

“Then there is no need to give it to me anymore”, he whispers against Daniel's neck when they break apart, warm and familiar, feeling like he has finally come home.