All the Way - an F1 story

32

7 September, 2021
📍Monza, Italy

Calina was tired. Not from having just woken up, but from waking up and feeling like shit almost immediately. It had been happening too much lately, and she was tired of it.

As comfortable as her bed was, Calina hadn't left it since the second her uncle had set her down on it in the late hours of Sunday night. It was bad. The sound of keys fiddling in the lock of her front door forced her to get up, pulling her yellow cardigan tighter around her body, and go see who had arrived.

Her fellow driver stood in her entryway, struggling to kick his shoes off while also making sure the backpack that was slipping off his shoulder didn't make him fall over. He looked slightly dishevelled, like he always seemed to look during their F2 days, and it was such a refreshing sight.

Nyck had this odd expression, like he was both sorry for her and relieved that she was up and moving.

"Hey." Calina only nodded at him. She felt like all the energy in her had just gone, left the moment she crashed into that barrier on Sunday.

"Feeling any better?" Another nod. "What did the doctor say?"

The doctor sighed, tucking the small light pen back into her coat pocket, turning away to write in her report.

"Well?" She turned to look at the trainer.

"I haven't seen anything unusual. She's all clear, really. Nothing internal, no sign of concussion or brain injury," the doctor told Lella. "Of course, I would monitor her in case anything comes up, but you are all good to go." Her trainer sighed in relief, squeezing Calina's hand.

"That's good," Nyck said, setting his bag down on a chair in her living room. "And you can race?"

The doctor, Annika, Calina saw on her nametag, smiled, though it was more pitiful than anything. She then turned to her, a hand resting on the driver's shoulder.

"You had it this weekend," Annika told her. "Get some rest this week, okay? I want to see you going in Italy."

"Yeah." Calina's voice was scratchy, a combination of having just woken up and having not spoken in days. "Though, she was kind enough to remind me I lost my first win because I was an idiot."

Nyck was quick to shut her down. "No. Max was an idiot."

"I should have backed off."

"Calina! You were racing, and Max overstepped. He couldn't handle the fact that he was going to lose, so he played it dirty. Don't—" he stopped, taking a moment to breathe before he continued. "Why do you blame yourself? You were never this hard on yourself. What happened?"

Nyck was so right, but Calina was too exhausted to say anything else, so she moved to her couch, lying down as her friend continued to move around her kitchen. "Did you at least eat something?"

She nodded. Matteo had spent the night, and made sure that Calina ate at least half the smoothie bowl he made for her before leaving for training, promising to be back later on in the day.

"You didn't have to come by," Calina muttered. The coffee Nyck had made was now cold, and she really never wanted it, but Nyck was so determined to help her feel better that she really didn't have the heart to say no. He shrugged.

"I wanted to come," he said, glancing around at the home. "It's been a while. I kinda missed this place."

Calina's house wasn't anything grand, which came as quite a surprise when people would mention the wealth of her parents. It was modern and simple; perfect for someone who would rather live alone, but still loves having people over. Between the kitchen, main living room and the dining space, it was more than enough space for her. On the opposite side of the entryway, the room which was supposed to be an office was converted into a music room. Charles had helped curate that, because according to him, her bedroom wasn't an appropriate place for her instruments. Upstairs, in addition to her room and the guest bedroom, the third room was a good enough place for her simulator, and while she preferred going to the factory and using the much more realistic one there, it was fun to see her friends try and attempt a lap around Monaco without colliding into the barriers.

Though, now, her house felt much emptier. Her family pictures were gone from their spot on the living room bookshelf, her framed diploma taken down from the wall. During the move, many of her personal things were moved to Bastien's house for safekeeping, or were already brought over to her apartment in Monaco. It definitely felt weird, knowing that in only a few months' time this wouldn't be her home anymore. Many good memories had happened in the walls of this home, and Calina had to admit that a part of her hated leaving. It had been years since she last lived full-time in Monaco, and she wasn't sure what it was going to be like. She had her grandmother not too far, as well as Nyck and Olivier and Sophie, yet she was still uneasy.

Calina had been feeling uneasy a lot lately, and she was tired of it.

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Spending her morning with Nyck was something Calina didn't realise just how much she needed, and she had to admit that she was feeling much better than before. Unfortunately, he had to leave to attend a lunch with Toto, but he promised he'd visit again before he left the city.

Nyck was good company, and since they both finished racing in Formula Two, following their own paths with their racing careers, Calina missed just getting to spend an uninterrupted few hours with her friend. She had seen him out, a pang in her heart as he drove off in his rented Benz.

Matteo had arrived not long after. By then, Calina had retreated back to her bed after cleaning up. He opened her door to find her snuggled under multiple layers of blankets, watching her on-boards from the Monaco Feature Race two years earlier, one of her better races.

He instantly collapsed onto the bed, beside where she sat, evidently exhausted from the training session he had been at, yet Matteo still listened intently as Calina recounted her morning, and she returned the favour when he wanted to moan about how hard the coach had pushed them.

It was nice, sitting there and talking about anything and everything with him, apart from racing, of course. It was nice for that to not be the centre of every conversation she ever had with someone in the past few years. It felt better than it probably should have.

And while she loved it, Matteo really needed a shower, and he was grinning like a child when Calina whined about how sweaty he was and how it was ruining her blankets. In the time he left, she decided to look at her phone for the first time in hours, only to see Marco had been blowing up her messages, demanding a phone call.

"Holy shit, she's alive," her boss drawled as soon as she picked up. Calina half-heartedly rolled her eyes at him as she reached into her kitchen cabinet to get a glass. "I did message you. Normally, one would expect an answer from their driver A.S.A.P."

"And I was hoping for a professional conversation with my boss, but I guess we're both not getting what we want today, Marco." Calina could hear a faint chuckle in the background, one unmistakably belonging to Horacio. Marco, too, seemed quite amused at her witty remark.

Calina already knew this was going to be one hell of a phone call.