The Team // A Formula One AU

Yuki

I wander outside to wait for the others while they get changed. My white Fortress shirt is a perfect fit and I can almost feel my number burned on my back. I feel like a part of this now but I'm so scared because I'm still convinced Tom picked the wrong person. But he says he didn't, and here I am, so here I go.

"Yo Yuki," Charles says as he too emerges from the changing room. "Or should I say Yoki, for short."

"Hey Charlie," I reply.

"Don't call me Charlie."

"Don't call me Yoki," I counter, grinning.

"Touché," he says.

"What does that mean?"

"It means... I don't know how to explain it in English."

I laugh slightly and most of the others come out into the slowly thickening mist. The weather in this place is awful. We trail in dregs over the stone path and down the bank to the garage, chatting about the damp track and our new shirts. When we get close enough Tom and Erik start ushering the taller people precariously onto benches in front of a camera. I'm not one of those people. Actually I think I might be the shortest person here, but that's okay because it means I'll be quicker than them. I hope.

"I guess we'll be on the same row." Lando spawns next to me and I jump a little.

"Oh. Yeah." I look to the top of his head to try to judge who's tallest. It's him by a few centimetres.

Once the tall ones are balanced precariously on their bench and the middle people stood in front, we move to the area of grass Tom is violently indicating at. Six of us crouch in front of the middle row and are told to act natural, something which is much easier when you're not trying to smile, stay still, look at a camera and not obstruct the people behind you.

"Can we do funny ones now?" Lando yells beside me and George nods enthusiastically, making the others on the bench sway dangerously, Lewis grabbing Checo's shoulder for support. The photographer doesn't seem to see why not so Phil retreats to the comfort of his chair as we pull random faces and jump onto each other's backs in pandemonium. Tom, Peter and Erik also wander off and the camera man is left with three benches and twenty teenage boys trying to make a pyramid on top of them.

"Oooowwy!" I once again cannot fail to hear Lando's screech as I accidentally pull his hair trying to get up to Alex's dizzy height. I just manage to plant my hands and knees firmly to his left and scream 'I'm the tallest now' before Lance stands on Daniel's hand and we collapse painfully onto the wood and grass. I think I definitely broke my jaw.

"I got the photo!" The cameraman tells us and we crawl back to our feet, half expecting ambulances. Tom comes back to laugh at the photos and Max takes off his shoe to look at his twisted ankle. It makes me a little worried for him but his spirits never fail and he suggests we take another team photo in the shirts of the teams we support. I race back inside to change again.

Alpha Tauri is my team and I've never really known why. Maybe the history or the fact they're the underdogs, I don't know. But I support them with my heart and soul.

"Hey!" A voice near me exclaims. I turn to see a blue-eyed boy, taller than he is imposing, also wearing Alpha Tauri's white shirt.

"Hey!" I say and we grin in immediate companionable friendship. "I'm Yuki."

"I know. But uh... I'm Pierre." We shake hands.

Pictures completed, the photographer packs up and Weird Old Phil tells us we should do the same before our flight tomorrow. We won't have time later, what with the final race and the debrief Tom has scheduled.

I can't believe we're going to Indianapolis. Let's hope the weather's nicer than it has been here.