The Red, The Silver, and The Girl Who Liked Both

The Saturday Before

The morning and afternoon before FP3 was nothing. No meaningful conversions, no relationship developments, nothing. Not even Lewis. I woke up to find Max missing, which was completely concerning. Eventually I found him out of the balcony of the hotel room, which I didn't know existed. Max greeted me silently, nursing a cup of coffee. He wrapped his arm around my waist, pulling me close to his side. We stayed that way for a while before Max headed inside to get ready.

We didn't have to head to the track as early this morning, so we took a bit longer than usual to get ready. Max stayed close to me the whole time, and I could tell he was nervous. At 11 we headed out and went straight to the Pits. Checo was already there, and he greeted me with a side hug and a kiss to the forehead. Checo and I have always been affectionate. Not as much as Max and I, but it was up there. Checo and Max left to jump into their racing suits and retrieve their helmets from wherever they left them last. This allowed me to wander a bit, staring down the pit lane.

It was hot today, hot for December. But I guess that's the norm in the Middle East. I find myself wishing for snow, despite never particularly liking it. At 2pm sharp, Free Practice 3 began. I was instantly set on edge by the rumbling of engines and the whine of the cars. It usually calms me, but today was different.

The majority of drivers begin on hard-compound tires. However, the Red Bulls started out on mediums and the Mercedes drivers opted to start the session on softs before qualifying runs came thick and fast at the end of FP3.

Mid-way through the session, Lewis set the fastest time of the weekend of 1m23.274s, going 0.751s clear of Bottas who was P3. As if I could be any more nervous, the medium-shod Red Bulls were more than 1.5s behind in the early stages.

However, neither Mercedes driver improved on their respective times when rivals began soft-tired qualifying runs at the end of the session. When he did equip softs, Max did improve to P2, two-tenths off his (now clear to say) rival Lewis. It broke my heart, knowing the state of our friendship not 9 months prior. Max lost two flying efforts, however, the first to a lock-up at Turn 6 and another to a snap of oversteer at Turn 9.

Thankfully, Checo secured fourth, 0.02s behind Bottas, with his final effort to leave McLaren's Lando Norris under a tenth behind in P5. So this is it: no more practice sessions – just an all-crucial qualifying session and the Grand Prix on Sunday.

Max said nothing as he returned from the practice session. I tried everything to cheer him up, getting him water and a towel. I felt like a personal assistant rather than his almost-girlfriend. I stopped in my tracks immediately at the thought. I promptly shook it out of my mind as I half listened to what my uncle had to say to the two drivers.

"Vickie?" Someone says and I realize I've zoned out.

"Hm?" I reply stupidly, unsure of who was asking.

"Did you have anything to add before Qualifying?" Christian repeats the question I didn't hear.

"Uh nothing that I can think of, no. Just to kick some Silver Arrow ass," I try to sound encouraging but I'm very embarrassed.

Checo smiles and Max remains emotionless. I hate seeing him like this. I can't help but feel like he thinks I won't want him if he doesn't win tomorrow. I'll have to think of a way to ease his worries.

An hour before Qualifying, Max and Checo do one final warm-up lap. They has to make sure that everything is absolutely perfect with their cars because they have only one lap to get their times in — if either of them (Max especially) makes a mistake and spins off the track or suffers a mechanical problem they could find themselves starting right at the back of the grid. Before I know it, it's already 5pm and time for Q1.