As FP1 got closer, I changed into my racing outfit. I decided to already put on my helmet before I got back into the garage to save myself from more up close camera shots.
My helmet design was not that colorful, but very sparkly. The base was a flaky, glittery black, with three wide stripes wrapped horizontally around the middle, reaching from the front all the way to the back, with the colors of Germany, black, red, and gold, in a chrome finish.
Besides some sponsors, only my logo was printed on the sides.
I trembled with excitement when I slid into the car. The mechanics did an amazing job, everything fit perfectly.
In the team meeting this morning we decided to give FP1 to me solely for focusing on the car and getting comfortable around the track again.
It felt like flying, only better. After two out laps, I started my first flying lap on mediums, testing early where the limits were. While accelerating, I wasn't able to breathe, same as for the braking zones, which challenged every single muscle strand in my body, but the more the forces kicked in, the more daring I got.
*MATT* Ok, everything running smoothly, front brake bias at 57%
is looking good for you, just don't be too greedy, we still have time.
*ME* Copy. Car is feeling really
good on high speeds, but it's
getting pretty twitchy in the
low speed turns like 5 and 6.
After 20 minutes on the track, I returned to the garage to look at the data and footage, and my feeling was right, the data showed the rear of the car being skittish in slow turns. We adjusted the aero accordingly. There was a red flag due to an engine failure on the Renault of Ricciardo anyway, which led to Pierre, who drove behind him, getting soaked in oil. I couldn't help but joke about it on the radio, knowing Pierre was a good sport and wouldn't take it the wrong way.
I went out again, pulling of my best time for the session.
*MATT* That was a 39:09,
well done Suvi, box after this lap,
box after this lap.
*ME* Urgh, felt faster than that.
Copy, understood. Box box.
The chance of having another go in the last minutes were taken from me, as Seb crashed his Ferrari while spinning into the wall at turn 19. The relief I felt when I saw him jumping out of the car lessened my frustration though.
//
FP2 came and I managed to get a 01:37:51 on softs before I needed two laps to cool down the tires and brakes.
*MATT* So, Bottas, 5 seconds behind, flying. 2 seconds.
*ME* Copy. Making room.
I slid my car to the very left to leave the Merc room to swerve to the right just before the entry into turn 11.
I was already going slowly, but now I had to slam my foot down on the brake pedal, only just avoiding locking up. The two cars in front of me were all over the place.
*ME* What the fuck, did you guys
see that? What was the Haas trying
to do? I thought Bottas was on a flying, why did he turn in like that?
*MATT* Copy, looking at it now,
is the car ok?
The cars were spinning to the outside, so I had taken the inside, having no other choice than rolling over a lot of debris.
*ME* Feels like I have
picked up half a car,
I can still get it back
to the pits though, I think.
*MATT* Ok, it looks like you have a slow right rear puncture,
so game over anyway for now, just bring it home safely.
*ME* Understood.
The damage on the floor was too much, it was clear that the repair jobs would last longer than the rest of the session, and frustrated as I was, I packed my things and headed back to the hotel.
I took a long, hot shower, ordered some room service and talked with my brother on the phone as Flint stepped in.
He immediately realized that I was no good company this evening and kept the talking as little as possible, their sessions at Racing Point weren't a paramount achievement either. We ate, silently, brushed our teeth, silently, got into bed, silently, picked a movie on Netflix by 20 seconds of conversation. 30 minutes in, I let out a pissed off growl and let myself fall on the pillow next to him.
„I was on my way to such an amazing lap, I could feel it. And those guys can't even communicate properly and ruined it. My car's floor was ruined."
Flint studied my face, shut off the TV and gave me a compassionate smile.
„Wanna rant about it?"
„No. I'm too tired for that.", I pouted.
„Then come here", he said, reaching out his arms for me.
YOU ARE READING
A U R O R A // F1
Fanfictionthe sun broke through the clouds and made her braids look like two golden chains running down her back. I glanced at her face, her eyes lost in the hustle and bustle around us in the padock. if someone could ever be perfection, it would be that girl...
