Chapter Text
Max Verstappen 16
Max blinked awake to a ceiling he didn’t recognize.
He wasn’t in his small bedroom back in Maaseik, nor in the junior program’s guest house. The sheets were nicer, tidy around his body, and heavier. His hand stretched out automatically to reach for his phone- only to find fingers that weren’t his. Bigger. Thicker. He froze.
Sitting up, he caught sight of a man in the mirror across the hotel room. He jumped out of bed, there was no one there. His heart racing he rounded the bed, the floor was empty. Taking a deep breath he tried to look under the bed, a box base stopped him in his tracks.
Calmer, he looked around again and saw the man, dark hair, older face, scruffy stubble. His heart hammered. Looking wildly around himself he spoke up, maybe it was a window?
“Um, excuse m-“ he had to stop, the man had moved his mouth at the same time as him, it was so damn creepy, his voice had drawn out Max’s. “Are you-“ he stopped again.
The man was not imitating him, and that was a mirror.
“No, no, no… what the hell…” His voice came out lower, mature.
He stumbled out of bed, his eyes fixed on the reflection. The man looked back at him, tan skin, dark hair, brown eyes staring back from a panicked face. He was looking at Sergio Pérez. New Force India driver.
Max’s mind reeled.
“Sergio?!” He pressed his hands over his face, seeing the same reflected in the mirror, feeling a beard that shouldn’t be there. The realization was cold and hot at once: he wasn’t in his own body anymore.
Sergio Pérez 23
Sergio woke up feeling lighter than usual, his body almost twitchy, restless. He sat up and frowned- why were his arms so thin? His chest flatter? His hair softer? He looked down at his hands. His…pale? hands.
Confused but calm, he was probably dreaming, he pushed himself toward the open door of a bathroom, connected to the room he had found himself in. The mirror nearly made him drop, jumping back he turned quickly, someone else was in the room with him, that feeling you had in nightmares filled him and he wished pointedly to wake up.
He looked around. Nothing.
Sergio moved slowly back to the mirror. The person- the kid- was there. Blue eyes, baby-faced features, sixteen, maybe seventeen. He really felt like he knew that face.
He looked back at his- the hands, he pinched his arm.
“Ouch, ok dormido no estoy… probablemente” his voice was so weird, this mouth felt unpracticed around the Spanish. Turning back to the mirror Sergio examined the reflection, this face was familiar yes, but that didn’t really narrow down the options on who it could be, considering how many people he met daily.
He walked back to the room he had woken up in, the bed looked like someone has lost a battle with the sheets, two blankets were on the floor. On the night stand he saw a phone, the screen asleep, he picked it up, pressed the home button and smiled when it lit up. No password, excellent, just apps staring back at him. He hated these all-screen things, what was wrong with buttons?
“¿Quién eres niño?” Sergio knew a way to find out, he opened the email app and looked for a name. He found it immediately. Max Verstappen.
“Max?” he whispered. Scrolling through he found promotional emails, F3 emails… oh.
“Oh” right. “Max Verstappen, el niño promesa” the karting talent that just went up to F3.
Sergio’s mind fought to make sense of it. He put down the phone flexed the teenager’s hands, pressed them against his cheeks. He’d met Max Verstappen in the paddock recently, the Dutch karting prodigy everyone was talking about. And now… he was him.
He picked up the phone again.
---
Max
There was a phone in the bag by the door, he had upturned it and found a wallet full of cards and pictures, and a Blackberry that Max found annoying to navigate. The contacts did not help, he knew who Sergio was, but Sergio probably didn't know who Max was, and even if he did there was-
The phone was ringing. Unknown number.
He picked up.
“Um, hello?” Max had his finger ready to hang up.
“Hi, this is Sergio, is that you Max?” oh thank god.
“Sergio, oh thank god, this is insane!" Max, speaking with Sergio’s deeper voice, nearly shouted through the line "I’m inside you! People are going to notice-“
“Calm down, Max. Calm down.” Sergio, his voice sounded a bit choked. “We’ll figure this out before anyone notices. Just… don’t go near my engineers, or family, or sponsors."
“What? What if they come for me and I have to test a car like this, or give an interview?!” Max was being very reasonable in his opinion, considering the situation.
“We need to meet, organize some way to fix this” Sergio continued, like this was not straight up out of a science fiction movie. “Panicking won’t help, and you especially need to try and keep it together Max.”
“What, why me? Aren’t we in the same amount of shit?” Max was sure if there was a moment to allow himself to panic it was now.
“Well, you’re the one who has access to both money and time, I’m in your house and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have to get us plane tickets.” Sergio paused. “And probably a reservation somewhere so we can plan.”
They both went silent for a long moment, the enormity sinking in. Preseason was weeks away. Their careers- Max's just starting, Sergio's mid-stride- were suddenly entangled.