Under the Microscope (Book One of Three)

Chapter 18

Again please, comment and vote so I know if you're enjoying certain aspects of the story. I am just sort of writing the story that is in my head and am always up for any suggestions, although I have about 5 chapters written already. There's a bit of a time jump due to how long it was taking for me to write about each week.

****

Australia was followed by Italy, where unfortunately Alex and I both failed to score points once again. The media were unrelenting at first when it came to the situation but soon gave up pushing for more information after several of them lost their interviews with me. It sent a message around and soon after they realised that if they wanted my time, they needed to respect the boundaries I was clearly placing. It didn't stop the chatter around the paddock, but I was largely able to tune it out. I was also able to dispel other rumours regarding my family as the whole group surprised me by attending the race in Imola, and it was nice to be on the grid, ready to start a race and not be by myself, as my dad briefly joined me.

For him, it had been the perfect weekend. While my family had all been supportive, it was my dad that took me to every race and seeing my F1 car in person and watching me drive it had been emotional to say the least. Even while not getting points, it made me very happy to have them watch me.

After Italy was Miami, America, which was a whole experience. I had nearly lost my voice from all the talk shows and interviews, and the paddock was filled with celebrities every day, similar to how Monaco is. That had been a good weekend for Williams, but not so much for me as Alex got 9th and I was stuck in 14th. It was a good race, well fought as I battled with Daniel and Mick, all of us struggling with less-than-ideal set ups. That night Daniel and I had drunk our miseries away in the privacy of the hotel bar as he complained about McLaren, and I complained about Williams. Being outperformed by Alex was hurting my chance of getting a better seat next year and I was painfully aware of that. With new upgrades coming, but only one set of them, I was aware I was about to undergo a degree of humiliation at my home grand prix unless I could get some better results. Apparently dying my hair red had just boosted his luck, but I didn't mind overall, playing the part of the happy teammate in the media and just silently venting my worries to Daniel.

Despite not having spoken to the Dutchman since we had overlapped the other day in Australia, I was keenly aware of the two-race win streak he was on, capitalising on Charles' mistake in Imola and having a faster car in Miami.

This win streak was extended in Spain after Charles' engine blew up, although at least in that race, I placed above Alex. Still a good distance from the points, however and more embarrassingly, I was lapped twice by Max. The glaring differences in our cars' ability stabbing me in the stomach when the blue flags flashed for a second time to let the race leader past. Despite the constant reassurance from everyone around me that I was doing good, I couldn't shake the feelings of dread that came with every checkered flag and Rachel's voice over coms telling me my result. It didn't help that every time I went to look for the comforts of JC, to joke with or vent to, she was never there.

Despite Olivia making her best efforts to keep me off social media, I couldn't help but see all the comments. Blatant sexism I could handle, it pissed me off but fired me up. What was painful to see was all the people suggesting I simply didn't have what it took to drive. I stopped responding to Daniel when he asked to meet up after Spain and kept my appearances at different events to a minimum during a predictably bad Monaco weekend. However, technically I finished above Alex due to a DNF. Baku was worse still, as the porpoising issue most of us were experiencing was still unresolved which resulted in painful practice sessions, a short qualifying and worse yet a truly awful race. I was left limping slightly when I got out of my car, and kept my face hidden by wearing my helmet all the way to my drivers' room to hide the winces I couldn't keep in. I was quickly treated to help relieve some of the pain of the two-hour race, but I still wasn't able to hide much during my interviews that followed the race. The naturally bumpy street track had served to exacerbate the issue, with several drivers talking about it after the race. Having heard others do it, I finally felt able to talk about the pain I was experiencing week after week.