Callsign_Rex



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  1. Public Bookmark 31

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    So it turns out being in a team that constantly pits you against each other isn’t actually the greatest feeling. Gee, who knew.

    Language:
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    17 Jun 2026

  2. Public Bookmark 4

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    We’re both living our own separate lives
    Again, as complete strangers, my first real heartbreak

    It's the bitter truth, George thinks to himself. Maybe he ran from it because he already knew what it was — that Max simply never wanted him the same.
    Or worse — never wanted him enough to fight for it.

    It's only when Max glances at the blue eyes and careful smile across the paddock that he finally has to accept it.
    He can’t hurt over someone he never allowed himself to have.

    Language:
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    17 Jun 2026

  3. Public Bookmark 12

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    “That was fucked.”

    “Yeah. Yours, too.” George eyed him, the harsh lines around his mouth softening. “Still don’t believe in luck?”

    What could Max say to that? Because whatever it was, this long string of complete and utter fuck-ups for them both since the season started, could completely be explained away logically. Mistakes happen. Engines fail. Science had its limits. Human errors, as it were, were aplenty. But George’s run—George’s run had been, without exaggeration, monumentally fucked, as if everything that could possibly go wrong did, and Max understood statistics, to a point, but even he couldn't help giving it a second thought.

    But he wasn’t going to tell George that. Max continued to track the seagulls and the cormorants and watched them in their formations, and George finally commented, breaking the silence, “You’re into augury now, too.”

    “The what?”

    “Telling omens by birds.” The ghost of a smile passed through George’s face. “What? I can watch documentaries too.”

    Post Monaco Grand Prix 2026. They're on a boat.

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    Language:
    English
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    17 Jun 2026

  4. Public Bookmark 46

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    Max toed the shiny sheet of gold heat shield and said apropos of nothing, “Back in the days they used to tell fortune from looking at the guts.”

    That got something out of George. He blinked, head slightly tilted. “Pardon?”

    “Divination. I forgot what culture—something old. I watched something about it on a flight. They would disembowel an animal and poke at the guts—the intestines, whatever else—and read…” He couldn’t think of the word in English and gave up with a shrug. “You know what I mean. The future.”

    “Omens,” George said almost mechanically.

    “Yes, omens.” Max nodded. “So what omens have you received?”

    “That I’m well and truly fucked, aren’t I."

    Montreal, after the race. Max finds George in the Mercedes garage at one in the morning, standing in the entrails of a car that should have won.

    Max has never believed in divine will or luck.

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    17 Jun 2026

  5. Public Bookmark 43

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    Some things can be so inevitable sometimes. Fate has always been that bitch.

    Language:
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    16 Jun 2026