Chapter Text
Max Verstappen had a guilty pleasure.
No, it wasn’t just sim racing or secretly buying way too many candles (though both were true, as the general public discovered after that Twitch live stream).
It was lurking on F1 Twitter.
Specifically, on his secret burner account, which he found hilariously anonymous: @orange4ever33.
Who would suspect him , Max Verstappen, of being behind it?
He didn’t care what people said about him online, but he was a gossip-lover at heart. Quietly following big F1 fan accounts and liking memes without anyone bothering him? Yes please.
On a Wednesday night, just before a full media Thursday, Max found himself scrolling through Twitter.
@anastas1a · 12:25 AM
if esteban ever needs a dog, i can woof.
💙 5 Likes · 🔁 2 Retweets · 💬 2 Replies
@erin31 · 12:33 AM
Replying to @anastas1a
insane (me too)
@boom33 · 12:35 AM
Replying to @anastas1a
it's time to go to bed i fear
Max chuckled, rubbing his face. These people were unhinged. Did Esteban even have a dog? He didn't.
He was pretty sure Charles and Pierre had gotten dogs this year because it had been all over Twitter. But Esteban? Why would he want a dog? He so obviously looked like a cat person.
It was not like he was always checking Esteban's posts and stories (he was).
It was just that Max has the gift of recognizing cat people because he was one. He was unreasonably proud of his ability to meow, too—a skill honed through years of hanging out with his cats.
That’s when he got a thought.
A rather reckless thought.
He tapped into the tweeting bubble and typed:
@orange4ever33 · 12:45 AM
if esteban ever needs a cat, i can meow.
He didn’t expect anyone to reply. His account didn’t have many followers.
Max avoided interacting with fans too much, and his only followers were a few Alonso stans who’d followed him after he’d angrily defended Fernando under a tweet claiming Alonso was past his prime.
@nandonso · 12:52 AM
Replying to @orange4ever33
do you even know how to accurately meow?
Max stared at the reply, offended. For such a big cat lover, that was a personal attack. He had meowed multiple times during twitch streams and everyone on twitter went crazy over it. But he can't say that...
@orange4ever33 · 12:53 AM
Replying to @nandonso
i have cats, of course i know.
Minutes passed, and Max found himself waiting for user @nandonso to ask about his cats. But sadly, his 9 AM interview wasn’t going to wait for him, so he went to bed.
The morning started with Max double-checking that his Heineken ads had been posted to all his social media accounts before rushing to the venue for another round of "Heineken 0.0%" content.
The interview went well. Max always had fun working with Heineken; they respected his boundaries and came up with creative little games for content that didn’t make him feel awkward.
By the time he checked the clock, it was 10:00 sharp—perfect timing. He had just enough time to get to the press conference scheduled for 10:30.
As he climbed into the car, his phone buzzed with a notification:
@nandonso · 10:05 AM
Replying to @orange4ever33
oh, really? that’s cute. how many of them?
Max smiled at the notification. His fingers hovered over it for a moment before he replied without even opening the app. He typed enthusiastically, "Three, they are my little menaces," and hit send.
Satisfied, he started the car, turned on the radio, and set the GPS for the circuit.
It felt like it was going to be a chill day. The championship was already decided, no race drama for a while, and there was nothing remotely controversial on the horizon.
Except...
The last time he’d logged into Twitter that morning to check on his Heineken ads, he’d been connected to his official account.
He suddenly froze, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter.
He had sent the reply.
From the wrong account.
Not from @orange4ever33. Oh no. From @Max33Verstappen.
@Max33Verstappen · 10:06 AM
Replying to @nandonso
Three, they are my little menaces.