Heartdriven

6. Broken Dreams

Waiting on the bench, she had no expectations of John giving her any more than a moment of his time today... if it felt busy between practice sessions, imagine what it was like before a qualifying session.
As John had informed her, cars enter parc fermé after qualifying, which she had learned meant no changes to the setup could be done before the race, so they needed to nail it. A few more minutes and she had to head off to the track, she was just a photographer, his work actually mattered.
Just let it go, you will see him again, there is another day, another race.

She got up from the bench and headed down the paddock, trying not to be in the way of anyone of importance, which, frankly, they all looked.
"Jane! Jane!" she could hear someone shout in the distance. Not her name, but meant for her. She turned around towards the sound and fell down, hitting the ground with a thud. Not feeling much harm in her body, but the weight around her neck freed. Her camera on the ground.
"No, no, no..." she started to tear up as a mechanic tried to help her up.
"I do apologise m'am, you turned around so quickly, I couldn't get the cart out of the way in time." She had been knocked over by some tyres headed for qualifying.
"It's not your fault, I didn't... look where I was going." John grabbed her by the other arm and assisted the mechanic in getting her back on her feet. She was slightly bruised on her elbow, wrist and knee, that skimpy clothes was already paying off, huh.
"I'll take over from here, Frank." The mechanic touched her arm in a display of remorse.

"Why don't you take the rest of the day off? Go back to your hotel, get yourself in a bath and clean these things?" He lightly blew some air on her wrist as a bit of blood peeked through her skin.
"Yes. I'll... I'll do that." John yet again helped her up from the grass, where she had landed to ground herself, brushing a bit of dust and grass off her clothes.
He looked at his watch, "I am truly sorry, I have to go. Please take care of yourself. It will be better after the race. I will see you then, yes? We can have dinner, celebrate... or criticise the race result," he smiled at her which did make her feel better in the moment, or at least made her focus on something else and returned it to him.
"There we go." He softly stroked a tip of her hair through his fingers and went away again... running after a short distance, and she nervously looked around before heading to the exit.

Even after the warm bath, her body felt sore, and the wounds were swollen. She sat down at the table in her hotel room, wanting to inspect the damage to her beloved camera. It was done. The lens was alright, just few bumps, and luckily you could say, the memory card of the day could be saved, so she had some revenue to recover. But no way she could make it for the race.
She neatly put the broken camera on its place in her bag and inserted the memory card in her computer to send the selected photos for publication, trying to force her own memory forward of which driver was in which car on which photo.
Fernando Alonso, Ferrari. Check. Mark Webber, Red Bull. Check. Lewis Hamilton. Jenson Button. Kimi Raikkonen. Sebastian Vettel. Felipe Massa. Nico Rosberg. Sergio Perez. Daniel Ricciardo, too.

Her first Formula 1 race experience being as an audience member might as well be another good way to go through it, maybe she could get a decent overview of where things are going down, choosing the best positions for the next race.
The first turn is always an obvious choice, but maybe she could learn a thing or two from observing other photographers, what they were doing and where they were, or rather where they weren't.
Queues were covering the entire area, looking at all the people who would spend hours crowded in the beating sun, she did feel lucky to have the benefits of her paddock pass. She would get paid to do this on a regular work day.
"Excuse me, m'am, I can't let you in." A tall man stepped in front of her, a security guard.
"Excuse me?" She looked around and saw people react as if she was already causing a scene.
"I have a paddock pass, look see?" She held it up to his face.
"Yes, I do see that, m'am, but it says you are a photographer. I don't see any camera. I can't let you in as a photographer without any equipment suited for your media duties."
She looked at him gobsmacked. "Are you serious right now?" The security guard laid his hand on her shoulder and escorted her out of the paddock.