Gaining Traction | Formula 1

Chapter 14

Alessandro's POV

My heart was thudding in my chest as I drove around the track on my cooldown lap.

I barely registered Zak come on the radio to congratulate me.

Z> "Let's goooo! P4 Alessandro! Great fucking job! Amazing drive dude!"

A> "I'm sorry guys, I really tried those last two laps."

Z> "Dude, you just scored your highest finish ever! You should be proud.

A>"Thank you guys, the car was incredible today. Great job team."

I felt like I was under water. Even as I got out of the car my head was in a haze.

I could see the cameras surrounding Max, a few focused on me. I nearly stumbled over my feet as I walked towards the weighing scales.

My helmet stayed on, I didn't want anyone to see my face right now.

I'm pretty sure I looked like I'd seen a ghost.

"Congrats, Sandro!" Ivan grinned, patting my shoulder. I nodded, unable to say anything else.

Everyone around me was happy for me. I had never finished P4 in Formula 1 and it was apparently a big achievement.

But I couldn't help but feel like the third place finish had slipped right through my fingers yet again.

"Unlucky mate," Lando said quietly as I entered the garage.

He was the only one who had noticed my dejected stance.

"Yeah, fucking shit again," I replied, tugging my gloves off.

"Don't say that, you'll only feel worse. Be proud of yourself."

I didn't reply, putting both hands on the counter in front of me. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my breathing and keep my emotions in check.

The chatter in the garage increased as the crew returned to the garage and I took that as a sign to disappear into my drivers room.

The walls were soundproof, offering much needed peace and quiet.

It also meant I could let out a loud groan of frustration.

Nobody aside from myself needed to hear that.

I unzipped my suit and grabbed a team polo when a knock sounded at my door.

"Come in!" I called, thinking it was my physiotherapist, Aaron.

"Alessandro fucking Moreno, did you just get your highest finish ever?" a feminine voice spoke.

I whipped around to find Dakota peeking through the door.

"Sorry, I thought you were Aaron," I said, quickly pulling my shirt on.

She slowly shut the door behind her after fulling entering my room.

Her hair was tied up in a loose ponytail now, the braids long gone. Her racing suit was still on, only the a little portion of the top unzipped. She had come directly from the FIA garage to my room.

Dakota immediately noticed the look on my face and her smile dropped.

"Well that's not the expression I expected to see," she muttered as I sat down on the massage table in my room.

"Not now, Dakota," I sighed, not wanting to argue with her.

"Hey, don't beat yourself up over it. You should be happy! It's fourth place, not last."