Little Things

7- Emilia Romagna Gp

"You'll be starting P12 tomorrow"

I slam my hand against my steering wheel, pissed at myself for my time, "Fuck!" I check to make sure that my radio isn't on, not getting a reply to my outburst I sigh in relief

My car spun out during my last flying lap of Q2 not allowing me to try and set a faster time than the lap before, which I had momentarily locked up in

How am I supposed to prove I belong here if i'm not even starting in the points?

I pull back into my garage, keeping my helmet on until I get to my drivers room

This weekend is already miserable, now my car doesn't even want to turn.

_

"Alethia! Wait before you get in the car!"

I turn to see my pr manager, what does she want now? For me to change my last name cause a redbull driver has it? There's only so much you can force me to do.

"What"

"Okay rude, but once you're out of the car after the race find Charles and hug him, in park ferme so everyone can see"

"K" I turn around after that, refusing to continue the conversation with her any longer

I have to hug him. I hate physical affection, at-least with people I don't know super well.

I absolutely adore it when i'm with someone close to me, my love language is probably physical touch but the mere thought of having to hug him makes me feel unexplainably uncomfortable

Hugs are for the people that make me feel safe, that have the ability to put a smile on my face, hugs are an action I use to express my admiration for someone that I struggle to put into words. The only exception to my rules is after a race, when I hug my team and even then, it's not the same.

Hugs shouldn't be extended towards the ones that make you sick just talking to, that have lines of insults prepared in their head specifically with the intent to get to you.

"Alethia, It's time"

I don't answer Fred, only nodding and walking over to my car to get in

The second i'm allowed to head out for my formation lap every thought of him leaves my mind, immediately focused on how many people i'll need to overtake to get a podium.

I've done it once, I can clearly do it again.

It's lap 60, three more laps to try and overtake Carlos for third.

I'm going into turn seven, he's barely ahead, my eyes are straining to catch the second he makes the smallest mistake to allow me to get into his driving line

I brake later than him, catching up we're now side by side into turn nine, he has the majority of the inside line, pushing me off I feel my car jolt, followed by me hitting the wall, slowing to a stop

"What the fuck!" I hear Fred through the radio asking if i'm alright and what happened, I mutter a quick i'm fine and ignore the rest of their voices, once the cars completely still I get out, kicking the tyre and walking over towards the wall

What the hell is wrong with me? How could I be so reckless?

What's my father going to think?

My hands are balled into fists trying to suppress my anger, i'm a fucking idiot.

I'm lead back to the garage, everyone is silent, their eyes burning through me, I feel seen and I hate it, I want everyone to forget about me until I can rebuild my facade, I don't want anyone to see me like this, fuck I don't want to see myself like this. It's embarrassing. It's pathetic.