Gridlocked Hearts

X

The Ferrari garage was ablaze with an electric energy and excitement as a swarm of dedicated engineers and mechanics meticulously inspected Claude's car for any potential damage from the 3rd practise session that morning. The scorching Australian sun beat down upon them, magnified by the heat radiating from the recently used engine. Beads of sweat trickled down Claude's forehead and he ran a hand through his dampened hair. It was almost unbearable, but he could not bring himself to care. Making his way to his driver's room, he smiled at members of his team, waving them through in the corridor.

Claude loved Australia. He loved the people, he loved the track, he loved the atmosphere, but most of all, he loved the passion. There was no other place on Earth that captured raw emotion the way Australia did. To say he was excited to race there again, was an understatement.

"You ready to go for the hat-trick?" The French driver jumped as Don's booming voice echoed through the room. The American team principle was overly cheery, and judging from the reddened cheeks, Claude suspected that he had already helped himself to an Australian beer.

"I'm always up for another win!" He returned the smile, peeling off his sweaty racing suit and leaving it hanging on his hips. Claude had won the Australian Grand Prix for two years running and he was determined to make it a third.

"Well you looked good in practise, so I've got nothing to worry about. Just make sure you talk to the engineers about turn 12. It looked a little tight there, same with Noah," Don left the room, and Claude sighed, the exhaustion of practising in the heat finally getting to him.

He considered going outside, and visiting the fans wandering around the paddock, but the blue sofa in the corner of the room looked really inviting, and he was still recovering a bit from jet-lag.

It did not take him long to make himself comfortable. The couch was not as soft as it looked from a distance. In fact, the material was a little scratchy, but he was so tired, he didn't care. He closed his eyes, waiting for sleep to greet him. That's when he heard an irritating British accent, shouting down the phone, on the other side of the door

"Yeah well the car sucks, Luke..." Claude raised his eyebrows. Judging from that reaction, Noah's practise session had not been as successful as the Frenchman. There was a pause before the English driver spoke again.

"I don't care how he's doing in it. It's literally been built around his needs... yes I know and I am grateful, but how am I supposed to compete with Ferrari's golden boy? I mean Don's wife has a picture of him on her phone background and," Noah swung the door open and froze, spotting his teammate lounging on the sofa. Claude smirked, and gave him a little wave, hoping to unsettle him even more.

"Oh I didn't realise you were here. Luke, I've got to go," Noah shut off his phone, and sheepishly made his way into the room, eyeing a chair in the corner opposite the sofa. The atmosphere was tense and thick, the two not daring to look at each other, instead opting for uncomfortable and awkward silence. Finally, Claude had enough.

"The car does not suck, Blanchett," He said, and the English driver's head shot up. He frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"Please don't start. I'm not in the mood," There was a slight plead in his tone that made the French driver scoff. He watched his teammate mess with a zipper on his race suit and sighed again.

"Look, I'm not trying to start anything but you just need to get used to the setup. I was the same when I first drove for Ferrari," Claude was not sure why he was being nice but seeing Noah sat there, face solemn and hands nervously fiddling, made him feel strange. He immediately regretted the olive branch, however, when the English driver burst out laughing.