just one more tear to cry.

max swore. he could do it. he knew it. just one more. just bear it one more time. one more time. one more for being a disappointment, for losing the first place, for being slow, for being not enough. just one more time. just one more scolding. this would be the last time.

enter, that day.

remember south of italy? max does.

he felt it. the crunch the tires made on the concrete as his dad's car rolls away. the coldness of his feet in his boots on the gas station floor. the brutality and violence of his father's scolding. and max think, that's what a father is. a blade that never stops cutting.

he cuts, he bleeds, he sews himself back. he swore again, one last time. again, and again, and again. he became furious. he became fury. he became mad max. and he cannot help but wonder if it is too late. how jos now asks him why he raised his voice.

he does not understand that he learned it all from him.

and when he's back in belgium, for another race, another feeling. he saw it. you. a stranger. then himself. another version of him, right there. small and young. that boy looks happy. and you love that boy. truly, utterly, and completely. he could see it in your eyes. and you know what's funny?

you look just like jos.