Gasoline ~ Daniel Ricciardo

01| Rebirth

"Oh - it appears we have a nasty crash involving Ryan Bradford and her professional rival, Daniel Ricciardo - now, we all know Ryan from her dangerous quips and her explosive temper, which I've heard can make her quite the PR nightmare at times!"

The track disappeared from me at over 200 miles per hour. With gravel and tarmac flying away from my tear-logged eyes, vanishing from the area outside the halo as the car rolled again and again until it finally slammed into the tires lining the track. I waited, and took a terrified breath as my gaze locked onto a second car swerving my way.

In my entire life, I had never been one for praying.

It wasn't something my family had ever believed in really, but as the orange car got closer and closer to the halo, I found her eyes squeezing shut as I let out a silent prayer for anyone who would listen. The comms line between my car and the garage was online, with my Red Bull crew asking if I was alright. They continued checking in with me as I remained upside down in the vehicle made completely to all of my measurements.

Ryan... Ryan do you copy? I could recognise the voice of Van Li, my engineer, as he asked whether or not I was doing alright.

In all honesty, I couldn't tell what was going on. Everything was moving too quick for me to focus, and my head was still spinning and ringing from the impact with the wall and the track under me.

There was the flashing of Orange and Yellow as a Renault and a McLaren screamed past, the howling from their engines igniting a familiar rage in my stomach as once again I was kept from what I deserved. Just another day where I'd be unable to claim a victory. But hey, maybe in Portugal I'll get a podium.

"I'm here," I finally replied. The seatbelt holding me in place was restricting my breathing, and making it uncomfortable to talk.

"I seem to be hanging but I'm gonna cut myself loose... I think the car is on fire," I called to my team whilst reaching for the seatbelt cutter kept in the pants of my overalls. "That fucker cost me my podium," I cursed, and freed my body from the burning carcass. My arms were braced for the falling onto the gravel, and caught me quick enough so that I didn't crush my neck under the rest of my trembling body.

Van Li's voice was still loud in my ear, "Copy, we have visual on fire," he called out, and adrenaline seeped through my veins once more, preparing me to escape. We'd practiced these sorts of drills plenty of times before, but it was still fucking terrifying once you were put in an uncontrolled environment having to face the real danger.

I pulled herself between the tiny gap which the two cars had provided, and felt the heat searing down my leg, ripping through my body as my rival's helmet blocked the sun from my visored face whilst he pulled me from the ablaze car.

I tried to get a good footing so that I could not be dragged by my biggest rival across the track. I hated that he wanted to help me, I don't need his help and I think it's degrading having him drag me across the gravel like a ragdoll. I kicked out again, and he let go of me.

"Fine, be like that," He scoffed and watched as my back slammed into the flooring.

I rolled onto my side, the pain tearing through my lungs and creeping up my throat until I was coughing up and begging for fresh air. Flamed devoured my car, the bright '13' on the front charring under the heat. Ricciardo was yelling at me, and I didn't realise what he was saying until the heat on my leg became unbearable.

He brushed his own arms clear of the flames, "You're on fire!" he shouted.

Panic filled me, and I crawled onto the wet tarmac of the track, praying for the remnants of the rain to put out the fire. I attempted to tear the jumpsuit off, and managed to get it around my knees before pain tore through my hands at the burns which had developed.