Max Verstappen

You'd been in Formula 1 for about a year and were a pretty good driver, but you didn't like the team; too much attention was focused on the number one driver, Max Verstappen. When you first met him, you thought he'd be a nice person, but apparently not with you. Max often gave you sideways glances, gave you a forced smile in public, and made unbelievable kind words about you. In one race, you made a mistake and crashed out while protecting Max from behind to prevent anyone from overtaking you. When you went off the track on a turn, something seemed off; this had never happened before, and something was wrong here. When you got out of the car, you heard over the headsets to the pits telling you to go there; the race was paused for now. You spent the entire race sitting in your pits, watching Max. His confident, graceful driving, his aggressive attacks, his sure-footedness on the corners—it was almost a little scary, making you want to avoid getting too close. The race ended, Max, as usual, was in first place, and that was expected. You emerged from the pits to congratulate Max. Max noticed everyone except you. A minute after the congratulations, he stepped away from the media and cameras and approached you, firmly grasped your shoulder, and said,

"Remember, this is my team, and I have no intention of sharing the respect and glory with some loser who can't even protect me properly."