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October 10, 2015 - Sochi, Russia

I ran down the path from the GP3 paddock to the F1 paddock, weaving in between the small groups of people walking either way. I was with Campos during FP3, getting ready for the GP3 race which was supposed to take place right after when I had heard the session was red flagged and Carlos was getting taken away in an ambulance. I didn't wait for permission to leave, just booked it to the Toro Rosso garage.

I held the sleeves of my race suit bundled around my stomach, the suit itself hanging off my hips as I pushed my way through the crowd of media that had gathered outside the garage. Gianna was at the entrance, trying to explain they had no information, and waved me into the much quieter garage. I saw James, who almost immediately spotted me.

"What the hell are you doing here, you have a race." He sighed.

I frowned. "Is Carlos ok?"

"He's uninjured and conscious, they're just taking him to the hospital to do a full exam." He explained. "Again, what are you doing here?"

I punched his arm, releasing my worriedness and sighed. "Jeez, they had me terrified with the ambulance and all the marshals and everything. It was such a scene, I was scared."

James couldn't help but chuckle. "Sorry we scared you, I'll pass on your concerns to Carlos." I nodded without speaking, concern still present in my head, and he chuckled again. "Ok, now get out of here, you have a race of your own to run."

I nodded again with a small smile. "Yeah, right. Thanks, James."

——

"Back from your little venture?" Mikel raised an eyebrow as I got back to the Campos tent.

"Sorry, Mikel." I blushed, taking my helmet and gloves from him. "I was worried about Carlos."

"I get that, but you still have your own responsibilities. You're lucky our race got delayed so long, or you would have missed it." He scolded, more annoyed than I thought he'd be.

"Yeah, I said I'm sorry." I muttered.

"Just get in the car." He sighed. I decided to do as I was told, and after a quick radio check the two of us said nothing to each other until I was on the grid, the race about to start. I wasn't expecting much chatter from him, but his voice crackled over the radio. "P11 today, you have the chance for points. This is a pretty tough track to overtake on, especially in our car, so just play it safe and maybe you'll get lucky."

"I don't need luck, I have skill." I said shortly, now starting to get a bit sick of Mikel's short tempered and sassy attitude.

"Fine, then put it in the points." He shot back, and I didn't have time to respond before the lights went on, our signal to prepare for the start.

My start was decent, I managed not to lose any positions, and with a couple retirements in front of me and some spite-fueled overtaking, after the short 15 lap race I came home P7. I saw the checkered flag and was back on the radio.

"Points." I said simply.

"Well done. I hope you know I'm tough on you because I know you can push yourself to get these results." He responded.

Behind my helmet, I chewed on my lip. "Yeah, thanks. I guess I need to find a type of motivation besides being annoyed."

Overall for the team, the race was pretty uneventful, so after a short debrief Álex, Zaid and I were set loose by our engineers. I made sure to congratulate Álex on P4, his best result yet. As we left the meeting I checked my phone and saw a text from Max.

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