beerenee
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He had gotten a text from him on the early morning of Fritz’s funeral, the first in months. The message was simple enough: Getting warm again in Perth. Bet the ocean sounds pretty good right now, ay? He had read it, tucked his phone into the inner pocket of his suit and stepped into the bleak, cold air of the chapel. It hadn't crossed his mind again until well after the service. Well after he had shaken Mrs. Turner's hand and watched her eyes go somehow glassier. Well after Gemma had ushered him out of the wake hours before the end.
The ocean. Daniel never cared one way or the other for the ocean. Hell of a gloat from the left field.
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Or a fatal crash and failed relationships leave Max unsure how to keep going, and Daniel isn't as much help as he had hoped -
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“Yeah, well consider it festered,” he spits out. “It isn’t something I can do so easily.”
“What isn’t?”
“The waiting. The waiting around,” he answers, and even he can hear the frustrated tone of his voice. He thinks he is probably not entitled to it, considering that this conversation is a cancerous growth from the desire that he can’t let go of. “I cannot just sit quietly for the next time you want me. There’s no time in the day for that.” There’s hardly time now. The fucking title hangs in the balance, and Daniel comes to him wanting to talk now.
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Or, Max and Daniel have a brief reunion after quali for the 2025 Vegas Grand PrixSeries
- Part 2 of 2025 Season
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Bill,
Thanks for your letter of January 31st detailing your loss of the Thunderbird Invitational. I hope you know that I don’t keep up with that kind of thing, and you could’ve just as easily have told me that you took home the whole damn prize. I guess I should thank you for your honesty, shouldn’t I?
All is well here, thanks for asking. I really am sorry that I’m not able to come to more reunions, but New York is a long way to travel even to visit with nice people. Maybe I’ll get up there someday, but I’ll bet that you salty bastards must get up to enough excitement without me there. Tell the fellas I say hello the next time it rolls around.
If you’re still in California, my wife and I would be happy to host you at our home here on the outskirts of Los Angeles. We’re still at the same address we were when we were married back in ‘49. (Some four years ago, now. Can you believe it?) So, swing (haha) by if you want to. Ring if you decide to come or Alma will bite my head off. My extension is enclosed, and it hasn’t changed either, as you know.
Faithfully yours,
Jay
***
Or, Bill and Jay are not good people, but they are exceptional lovers. -
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In an instant, he remembers seeing her marching behind her father down the streets of Aldbourne, every bit as serious and severe as a ranking officer. It would be difficult to forget that harsh, determined look (trained only on the next step forward and the next) on an otherwise gentle, round face framed by dark curls.
That look is trained on him now, her green eyes are a shock to the rest of her, sharp and intelligent. They seem to dig into him almost instantly.
***
Or, the story of Ron Speirs and his first wife -
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Lewis Nixon has been on his last nerve, but he knows better than to fill up a whole sheet of paper with how much he dislikes somebody. Not pleasant to write about and certainly not pleasant to read. He has this latent desire to make his accounts something that DeEtta likes to get beyond the simple joy of receiving word from a friend. They deserve to have some kind of entertainment value.
All the same, he walks across the Fort Benning fields in the newfound heat of April to the post office and lets himself just think for a second what he might say to DeEtta if he wasn’t worried about being a bother.
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Or the drafts of letters that pile up in Dick's mind when he starts considering what he WOULD write about Nixon
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There was the gap between what he wished for and what he got. This year it was worse for Daniel than ever, more, he thought, than a man could bear. He spent a lot of time staring at his teammate’s ass, and not in a fun sexy way. More of a potential axe-murder type of thing. Homicide, type of.
Max gave him a wink as they passed each other in the garage.
If Max thought Daniel was so tender he’d fuck him after all that then Daniel might as well take a header off the balcony.
Series
- Part 1 of Hopes for the Season
Bookmarked by beerenee
22 Jan 2026
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Max hasn't let more than a few sips of beer pass his lips, wheaty and stale. His regime is tight and his schedule doesn't allow for any underage drinking, so he hasn't exactly thought about it. He knows that boys his age have already begun to clink back shots of vodka, tequila, anything they can get their hands on, but Max isn't like other boys, Max doesn't have the time to do these things.
He splits his time from track to track as his father drives him around. It's lots of the same thing, and he tells himself that none of it makes him miss his sister or his mother, he tells himself that he isn't jealous of those boys, tells himself that he doesn't want these things. It adds to a layer of deep cold that permeates his bones. He’ll keep ignoring that though.
It isn't until he meets Daniel that he ever really drinks.
AKA
The prequel to Orange Juice, a Max centric retelling of the 2025 season and a 5th World Championship.
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- Part 1 of The Orange Juice Universe
Bookmarked by beerenee
02 Feb 2026
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In Abu Dhabi Max hits a bird. Blood gets on his visor but he doesn’t notice it. The speed pushes it off. A second later he’s a mile away.
Twenty-eight laps later he crashes and the car crashes with him. On the track, feathers drift.
Bookmarked by beerenee
23 Jan 2026
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“Hi, Daniel,” the man at his door says, tentative with a sideways smile. There’s sweat on his hairline and two cage-like boxes in his hands. He hears a meowing come out of them when he shifts to set them down.
“Max,” Daniel breathes out, floored and caught in the way Max rubs at his own arm awkwardly. Max just smiles.
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Based on the Stick Season (Forever) album by Noah Kahan
Bookmarked by beerenee
11 Jan 2026
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*New Christian Horner allegations raise questions at Red Bull*
The article title still doesn’t mean anything to him, so he keeps reading
"Christian Horner’s sudden exit from Red Bull has drawn much speculation. . . A reliable source has come forward with new accusations. . . Even more disturbing is the alleged past sexual relationship with an underage team member at Red Bull."
George feels the color drain from his face. He snatches the phone, scrolling through the rest of the article. The name of the supposed underage team member is never stated, but as far he’s aware Max is the only one in the team's history.
---Secrets brought to light make life miserable for Max. George helps him cope the best way he knows how.
Series
- Part 2 of Dance With the Devil
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Bookmarked by beerenee
05 Jan 2026