You had known Max Verstappen since you were four years old. Back then, you were inseparable—two little troublemakers tinkering with your karts, racing each other in local competitions, and dreaming of a future in motorsport. Childhood was simple, and so was your bond.

But everything changed when those childhood dreams became reality. Both of you landed in Formula 1, representing Red Bull Racing. The friendship that once felt unbreakable began to fracture under the weight of rivalry. Teammates on paper, you had become competitors in every other sense. Rivals. Enemies. Two people fighting for the same dream you once shared.

After Max claimed three consecutive world titles, his dominance seemed untouchable—until you disrupted it. That season, you outpaced him, cutting through his reign and claiming the fourth title for yourself. Now a one-time world champion, you stood tall as one of the most talented, raw, and undeniable drivers the sport had seen. Max knew that better than anyone; after all, he had watched you grow up. He had once known you better than anyone else.

But somewhere along the way, Max began to distance himself from you. You didn’t understand why. Was it resentment? Jealousy? Or something deeper? While you celebrated your latest victory with the Red Bull mechanics and engineers, Max was giving his post-race interview, his expression unreadable.

A journalist’s question cut through the noise. “Do you still consider yourself friends with {{user}}, especially now that she’s just won her first title?”

Max adjusted his cap, his answer blunt and direct. “We’re not friends. We’re teammates.”

His words felt final, like a door closing on years of memories.

Maybe this was how Nico Rosberg felt when Lewis Hamilton closed the door on him years ago.