in which they've both grown up with the lights shining on their faces.
in which they find comfort is the soft glow of each other's light.
redbull female f1!driver
paul walker!daughter
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T H R E E .
"Final lap, you're going strong Walker," the words blared through her radio, filling her with a sense of confidence, "hold position, it'll be difficult to overtake now, P4, aiming for a P4 finish."
"I can overtake," her voice came out frustrated, and muffled, her fingers absently just tapping on the steering.
"Negative, don't overtake."
"For fuck sake, I can overtake! There's 3 corners left, let me overtake!" Her voice was more confident as she spoke this time, anger spiking up in her at the fact they didn't believe she could do it.
"Hold P4."
"Fuck this," her foot pushed down further, closing the distance between her and the driver in front. Having not met them all yesterday she wasn't exactly sure who was driving in front of her, not that she had much of an ability to tell. She was sure it was a Mercedes.
"Walker! Hold P4, hold P4, you'll spin out!"
She ignored whoever was talking to her, going wide on the last corner and successfully overtaking the driver who now fell behind her. She waved her hand up at him as she laughed whilst finishing the race with P3.
"Told you I could overtake, don't try and underestimate me," she laughed through the radio, only initiating a happy persona.
"Well done, well done."
The next couple of hours were filled with media, much to her disappointment. Not that she didn't enjoy media, only now they weren't flagging her down in the street and instead grabbing her by the elbow and putting her in front of a camera - leaving her no choice but to answer the questions thrown her way.
"Starting P7 and finishing P3 on your debut race to Formula One, that must feel amazing! The cheers when you overtook Hamilton was unbelievable!" The interviewer spoke with an animated smile and animated hand gestures, causing Amelia to awkwardly rub her neck and nod along to what she was saying.
"Yeah, it - it was a surreal experience, I guess for my first Formula One race, and I mean being able to overtake Hamilton? I can tick that off my bucket list now," she laughed softly as the interviewer overpowered her laugh whilst placing a hand on her arm.
"Oh there's Mick! Mick get on over here!"
The young Schumacher walked over to the Red Bull driver and the interviewer who had a hold on her arm. His eyes lingered there for a while before smiling his boyish grin and letting out a polite hello.
Amelia slowly got out of the man's grip and moved closer towards the other driver, still nodding along to what the interviewer was talking about. Mick rested his hand on her waist, keeping it out of the view of the camera yet providing her comfort. Her eyes had gotten lost in the despair of her teammate's, seeing his defeated look whilst talking away. A sense of pity flooded through her body, agitated that she couldn't of helped Max.
She was guided away from the interview she was doing, with an arm slung over her shoulder. The sweat on the back of her neck instantly clung to the material of the shirt, heat rolling off of her and him.
"Good race out there today, not bad for a rookie," Mick smiled down at her as he followed his PR manager, the three of them weaving through all the human traffic.
She smiled back up at him, more genuine than she had with the interviewer, "yeah? Maybe next time you can overtake me instead, though it is nice to see you behind me," the unintentional innuendo slipped past her lips without her noticing, yet sent a blush crawling up Mick's face.
"Yeah? See you on the grid next time Walker, I'll be whipping past you," he sent a wink down towards the girl, an innocent smile plastered on his face.
"You're funny mini Schumacher."
"Oh I do try," he let go of her shoulder as his PR manager turned to speak to him, ultimately dragging him towards more interviews. He smiled at his best friend and turned to answer the questions fired at him.
Amelia smiled at the blond boy, her eyes softened as she watched him stumble over his answers in front of the camera. She was going to walk towards him, comfort him in some sort of way, yet was stopped from Max speaking out from behind her.
"Making friends?" Max questioned her as they stood in the middle of all the mayhem, their sweaty racing suits clung to them, and their hair was clinging to both their faces.
"Told you i would," she smiled at him with a wink, pretending that she had just met Mick. She felt more alive now than she had the night before. "I'm sorry, that I couldn't help you, I'll aim to get behind you next time, I can help you out."
Max frowned, wiping the sweat on his brow that was dripping into his eyes. "What? Why would you do that? You got P3? Celebrate, kleine vleugels," he patted her shoulders, shaking them to emphasise his point.
"I have an idea," she smiled at him, her features lighting up more and more as she thought. "I don't actually know if we're allowed to, I'll try. Next race, you'll see!" She walked off, away from Max, leaving him confused in a sea of interviewers and colleagues.
