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There was an orange tabby cat inside Max’s motorhome, standing in front of a mirror. It had a beautiful orange, almost golden fur coat with a darker brown stripe pattern. White fur was coated around from its neck to the underbelly and its four paws.
Max would have been thrilled, if not for the fact that when he blinked, the cat reflected on the mirror also blinked. And when he tried lifting his hand, the orange cat also lifted its leg.
Max stared at the mirror and sighed. The cat meowed softly and looked so dejected in the mirror that Max would have laughed and thought it was very cute if he saw it on Instagram. But it was himself, so he could only feel a lot of disbelief and a sense of embarrassment.
There was no denying it. He was cursed and turned into an orange cat.
The chances of getting cursed are low, but never zero. The number of real witches was a lot less than most people think. But the number of curses placed upon F1 related personnel was a lot more than people suspected. So much so that the FIA had reached an agreement (cough, paid) with the Council of Witches to stop placing curses on them and create anti-curse barriers wherever grand prix is being held. Still, there were occasions when curses slipped past the defense. That’s why, each F1 team had their own curse-breaker.
Well, small mercies. At least, he was somewhat familiar with a cat body. He had been cursed as a cat before.
Max looked at the clock, there was no use dwelling on this issue inside his motorhome. He should find a solution. He better found Edward, Red Bull’s curse-breaker, fast. There was some time left before he had to appear for the press conference. The FIA hated someone for skipping media duties and he did not want to deal with the FIA.
He jumped and pressed the handle of the door. A myriad of sounds and colours assaulted his senses in an instant. He groaned uncontrollably and came out as a cat’s yowling sound. He grimaced. It would never not be weird to hear himself meowing.
Max stayed in the same spot near the door for however long. He opened his eyes which he was not aware were closed before, and unfolded his flattened ears. He stretched, his forelimbs extending and his back going up in the air. The sound was still too loud, the light was still too bright, but they were more bearable this time. Still, he decided to stay close to the shadow.
There were only a few people milling around the Red Bull’s area, as he was staying close to the edge of motorhomes, he found. Which was good. It meant less people noticing a cat wandering and less grabby hands trying to pet him, he concluded.
And the door to Edward’s room was closed.
Max stared at the door blankly.
He had tried desperately looking under the door and placing his ears on the door, hoping his heightened senses could pick up something, anything to indicate there was someone inside. But there was no sound or movement or vibration coming from the curse-breaker’s room.
Max sighed, not noticing he was circling around the motorhome, his tail swishing left and right every step. It would just be his 2026 luck to miss Edward.
He looked around, hoping Edward would just be around the motorhome. Instead of Edward, there was a small crowd gathering, closing at him. He even saw a few phones aiming at him.
Time to go then. Finding Edward be damned. He did not want any of them any closer.
Max picked a random direction and sprinted away as fast as his cat form allowed.
-----
Ollie was talking to Gabriel Bortoleto when he felt something bump into his legs.
It was an orange cat with beautiful, almost shiny fur which he would like to get his hands on. It seemed a bit confused on why there would be an obstacle on its path as it looked up to him with a bit of startled expression. Its tail was puffing up.
Ollie crouched down, “Oh hello, where are you going?”
He extended his hand for the cat to sniff. It looked back with an unimpressed gaze accompanied by a little head tilt. Cat rejection at its finest, Ollie mused. Something moved next to him. He looked up. It was just Gabi crouching down.
The cat turned its blue eyes away from Ollie to observe the newcomer. Gabi did not offer his hand, instead, he seemed content just looking at the orange cat.
“You scared it,” Gabi said, “I think.”
“Shhh.”
Ollie did not give up on his goal, i.e., getting his hands on the cat. He kept offering his hands to the cat and the cat just kept ignoring him. And at one point, the cat just walked over to Gabi and sat in front of him.
Gabi hesitantly stroked the back of the cat. The cat immediately tensed. But it didn’t move out of the way. By the third time, the cat started to relax and he was more confident that it wouldn't attack him suddenly.
The fur on its back was not as long and soft as he imagined, but it was thick. The cat under his hand was surprisingly warm. He could feel many things, from the cat expanding and contracting its lung, the fall and rise of its back, to every little movement from the cat. It was quite amazing.
Gabi moved on to scratch the head of the cat. The cat was purring at this point. Its blue eyes scrunched up, body completely relaxed, head moving along. Gabi smiled at the little cute cat.
“Gabi.”
“What?” He asked, his hand did not stop petting.
“Gabi.”
“Ollie.”
“Gabi.”
“Ollie.”
“Gabi.”
He looked over to Ollie, who was now looking at him with clear jealousy. They locked eyes. Ollie tried his best to convey his murderous intent. Gabi tried his best to be nonchalant, yet failed to suppress his smile.
The cat seemed to sense the growing tension between the two F1 drivers. It meowed and then bolted.
“You scared it.”
“NO. It’s you.”
“You.”
“No, you.”
“What are you guys doing?”
Esteban Ocon stared at his teammates and the young Audi driver from the door of Haas hospitality with amusement. Sometimes their squabbling was quite interesting.
“Esteban,” Ollie shoved his phone under Esteban’s nose. “Look, the cat is so cute.”
“Okay, okay.”
He gently pulled the phone away from his face in order to look at the screen properly. Indeed, there was a cute orange cat on the screen. But Iris was more adorable, in Esteban’s humble opinion.
“Is it a stray?” he asked.
“We don’t know. Gabi scared it away before we could find out.”
“What are you saying? YOU scared it away.”
Esteban decided to tune them out and focus on the photo instead. The orange cat looked a bit familiar. Maybe it was someone’s cat? But he didn’t remember anyone bringing their cat to the paddock.
He hummed.
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh nothing.”
Some cats looked similar at first glance. It was probably his imagination. And also, there’s always a possibility that it was a stray.
“Yes, it was cute,” he answered and returned the phone. There were already many things to think about and do during the race weekend. He didn’t need to add a cat in there as well.
----
He heard a strange noise when he ducked into a makeshift back alley of some containers.
Max was continuing his search for Edward and heading towards Red Bull’s hospitality when he passed the VCARB area and saw Liam and Arvid doing silly stunts for team content.
He had avoided people like a plague and prayed that not many people would notice him. And if they did, they would be too busy doing their own things and not seek him or pet him.
Well, maybe except for the social media team. They love their contents.
He decided to walk through the alleys between buildings and the underside of motorhomes. It might take him more time to get to his destination, but this way he could avoid more people.
That’s when he heard the faint, strange sound.
He turned his head, twitching his ears to better pick up the sound. Among the paddock's usual loud noises, he could hear the sound again. It was soft and muffled, almost like someone was sobbing. The sound grew louder and louder when he got closer to the source, and confirmed his suspicion.
It was a child crying.
It was almost instinct that he immediately went up to the little girl on the ground. The blond little girl, who was maybe around 4 years old, was crying into her sleeves.
‘What happened?’ was what he meant to say but it was a “Meow” that came out. He forgot he was still a cat in haste.
But he did catch the attention of the little girl. She peaked from her fingers, tears still streaming down her face.
“Ki, Kitty?” she hiccupped.
Max sighed. This was a shit situation. The little girl was obviously lost and upset. He could not comfort her or wipe her tears or ask someone to reunite her with her parents. He was just a cat.
He walked near to the girl, not close enough to touch but close enough for his tail to occasionally brush against the arms of the crying girl, hoping his tail could bring comfort and act as a distraction.
“Kitty!”
“Meow.”
The girl wiped her tears on her pink dress and, with the confidence that only a child could possess, proceeded to pick Max up and bury herself into the back of the orange cat.
Max, caught between lashing out with his claws and fighting his own (cat) instinct, paralyzed for a second before he forcibly made himself relax inside the little girl's arms. The girl’s cap was digging uncomfortably on his back.
At least the crying had subsided, he thought. He would jump down after a minute, right after the girl stopped crying.
****
Alex Albon was dodging people left and right, (Why were there so many Red Bull employees running around like headless chickens? Did something happen?), running back to Williams’ hospitality because he had left his phone inside the building, again.
He had lost count of the times that he had almost lost his phone simply because he forgot about it.
Alex mentally congratulated himself when he found it on the table in his room. He was heading back out on the paddock when he spotted Lando Norris getting hounded by journalists. He was listening to a journalist, a couple of reporters and people were lurking in the background, waiting for their chances to talk to the 2025 WDC winner.
And the one that he was talking to had an especially annoying reputation of ignoring the driver's personal space, asking impossible and hypothetical questions left and right, being a slimy bastard and having an overall unpleasant attitude.
The McLaren driver was looking like he would like to be anywhere rather than in the paddock at the moment. Alex did not envy him.
Well, maybe if it came with a championship……
“Oh Alex, here you are. I was going to meet you.”
Lando’s voice interrupted his musing.
Alex certainly did not remember any meeting scheduling between them.
He looked at the fake smile plastered across Lando’s face and the desperate, pleading eyes, and decided to go rescue him.
Also, they had already made eye contact and it would be incredibly rude of him to ignore a fellow rider.
“Oh yes, I remember it, our meeting, which we should do right now because I am going to the media pen later.”
Lando immediately detached himself from the journalist and launched himself to Alex.
Which was clearly what he wanted to do but could not. Instead, he had to politely say his farewells and even sign a number of things for the fans in the background.
“ANNIE!”
Someone’s voice cut through the paddock. Then a figure ran past Alex and stopped a few meters away. All heads were following the figure to the centre of the commotion.
“MOMMY!”
An unmistakable high pitch scream of a little girl echoed in the bystanders’ ears. The mom, presumably the figure that ran past Alex, was hugging a little girl who was wearing an orange cap.
There’s also a cat near Annie, for some reason.
“What’s happening?” Lando asked.
Alex heard Lando asked no one in particular or to the manager. He was curious as well but he was busy observing the cat.
The cat didn’t have a collar, which was the first thing he noticed, which could imply that it might be a stray. But the cat seemed too well fed and well groomed to be a stray.
He pondered for a while. There was also a nagging feeling whenever he looked at the orange tabby. Alex found it difficult to discern what his brain was trying to tell him.
Might it be someone's cat that had been brought to the paddock in the previous years?
The cat was circling around the mother and daughter with its ears flattened, tail puffed up and twitching like crazy. It was clearly feeling agitated around so many people closing in.
“Mama, can we keep the kitty?” Annie squeezed her mother while sobbing, her voice muffled by her mother’s shirt, “It saves me.”
“Oh,” a bystander asked, squeezing through the crowd and kneeled down beside the pair, “what happened?”
He was the journalist that was just talking to Lando.
“I am walking and then I don’t know where I am.” The girl barely swallowed back her hiccups, “And I was crying and then kitty was there. We walked together.”
“And then I found mama. It was like magic!”
Annie squealed in delight.
The journalist leaned over and tried to snap a photo of the cat, which was a very bad idea.
Then, two things happened at once.
First, the cat growled once before it pounced and bit the hand of the journalist.
Second, Alex figured out what his brain was trying to tell him. The cat was Max Verstappen, who just bit a journalist and was seemingly trying to go for another bite.
Oh shit.
Alex pushed past the crowd and kneeled down next to the cat. It was hissing on the ground at the journalist after it detached itself from the hand of the human.
“Max?” Alex whisper-shouted in disbelieve.
The cat turned towards him. They made eye contact and the cat nodded, once, like a human would.
It was really Max Verstappen.
Oh my God, Alex thought to himself calmly.
-----
Lando dashed to Alex’s motorhome which was the direction of where Alex was last seen. Alex somehow managed to disappear in the midst of chaos and slipped past the growing crowd. He was actually impressed.
He just wished he had thought of doing the same, instead of being dragged to do damage control.
He knocked on the door and waited.
No one answered him, which was bizarre because he could have sworn he heard voices coming through the door.
“Alex?”
He pressed down the handle of the door and, curiously, found that the door was not locked.
Lando stepped inside the room.
There were two people inside the room. One of them is Alex and a man wearing a Red Bull shirt. And also, somehow a cat.
Alex was standing in front of the cat and staring at it. He seemed to be talking to it, with a growing, slightly manic smile.
The Red Bull employee was pacing in the room. He seemed kind of stressed. One of his hands was holding a phone and he was talking anxiously to someone on the other side, the other hand was waving aggressively with weird finger movement.
The cat was sitting on the only table in the room. It sat upright on its back legs with its tail curled around its paws. And it was somehow the calmest being in the room.
“What’s going on?”
Alex laughed, unhingedly. He pointed in the direction of the cat and said, “Lando, please meet Max Verstappen.”
“What?”
“Max Verstappen, the F1 driver. Now, a cat.”
“What are you talking about, mate?”
Was Alex going into a schizophrenic episode before the GP? Was the car really that bad?
“Max got cursed into a cat.”
Lando turned to the cat and saw a piece of paper writing YES and NO under its paws.
“Max…?”
The cat pointed its paw to YES.
Lando tried to contain his laughter. Well, keyword was tried.
“Oh God,” he gasped between laughing, “What the hell.”
Lando looked at Max. The orange gave him an expression of such deep annoyance that was so Max that it sent Lando in another giggle fits. There were even tears.
“How do you turn back?” He asked when he finally calmed down.
“Meow.”
“He doesn’t need to do anything.”
Max and the Red Bull staff both spoke at the same time. The staff had already ended his call a while ago. Max turned towards him.
“The fact that it could pass through the anti-curse barrier means it is not a malignant curse and not a very strong one either. By my estimation, you will revert back to being human at night, possibly after the press conference.”
“It seems someone really doesn't want you to do media duties.” Alex said to Max.
“Meow.” Max blinked slowly. He seemed quite happy in Lando’s assessment towards the latest discovery.
“Why has no one cursed me into an animal?” Lando complained in a dramatic fashion, “I’d like to skip media duties too.”
Lando suddenly thought of a very brilliant or a very dumb idea, depending on who you ask. Lando was quite proud of it.
“Max, mate. You got to do the interview.”
“Meow?”
“Just imagine, you sitting there,”
“Meow,”
“And when they ask you a stupid question, you could cuss them all and they wouldn’t know anything.”
“Mrrrrr,”
“And the FIA couldn’t do anything about it!”
“Meow!”
“Yup,no. All right, we have to go back to Red Bull, Max.”
The staff opened the door and urged Max to leave. Max jumped onto the ground and was quite vocal about his disappointment on the interview idea.
“Max, if you don’t leave, I’ll have to carry you.” He waved at them, “Goodbye Alex, Lando.”
He shut the door, leaving Alex and Lando in the room. Lando looked over to Alex who had his phone out.
“Oh my god, please tell me you have photos.”
“Who do you think I am? Of course I took photos.”
“Videos too?”
“Videos too.”
“Great. Send them over please.”
“Done.”
-----
Max returned to his human form within the projected time. It was not the worst experience he had but the day could be better.
He turned on his sim sim rig and was ready to leave today behind though the expression on the journalist that he bit was worth memorizing.