Race till the end-formula 1

26

An agonizing scream pierced the RADIO, silencing even the commentators as the black and red car crossed the checkered flag.

"FUCK!!!"

The world watched as Amadeus staggered, his mind unraveling.

He parked his car in a daze, barely conscious of his actions. He saw himself exiting the vehicle, felt the phantom touch of hands shaking his, but it was as if he was outside his body, a spectator. His helmet, was shielding his eyes, was all that kept him from shattering completely.

Because Amadeus lost.

"Engine failure," his mechanic's voice echoed relentlessly in his mind.

It was his fault. He shouldn't have missed practice. He should have noticed something was wrong.

As soon as he removed his helmet, the weight of reality crashed down on him. He felt exposed, raw, as if the world could see every wound, every failure. Yet, no tears fell. Numbness enveloped him, with the only sensation being the boiling blood thrumming beneath his skin.

His team surrounded him, offering hollow congratulations or empty consolations—he couldn't tell. Their voices all blurred into a meaningless hum. He didn't even know if he said something back.

"Come on, Deus, just some media, okay?" Sandra whispered, her hand rubbing his arm, trying to comfort him. Normally calming, her touch stung.

"Amadeus, so close yet so far, to have the title taken right at the last race. How are you feeling about how the race ended?" asked a reporter for the hundredth time.

Amadeus did not register the question his eyes blank as he stared right through the reporter.

"Amadeus." The reporter said trying again to gain his attention.

But Amadeus felt it the panic, his blood rushing before the cold sweat and the suffocating starts. Everything was too tight too bright too loud.

This is not happening here not today.

He found himself muttering a small sorry as he rushed out of the media pen his fists clenched at his sides his head down.

Carlos and Lando eyed him from their interviews. Carlos rushed over, trying to hold Amadeus's arm, but Amadeus pulled away harshly, no he didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve the care in Carlos's eyes now turning to hurt at being shut down again.

He was teetering on the edge, struggling to keep his emotions in check. He just wanted to be alone.

---

His body was hunched over the sink the driver's room bathroom felt so small he felt the walls threaten to swallow him

Amadeus didn't look like his dad, he always knew this, no matter how many times Carlos told him otherwise.

No, because Amadeus was all his mom, especially her eyes.

Even after death, he cannot escape the angry harsh eyes, because they stared at him with hate every day mocking him as his head rushed to collect itself.

Dark eyes stared at him full of judgment as he showed his weakness, as he spiraled. He could almost hear the voice that used to accompany them.

"You have always been weak Amadeus, soft, what a waste of time it was all those years I spent on you should have known you would always be nothing but pathetic what a waste"

The voice got louder and more angry the deeper he looked into his own eyes it was only when there was glass everywhere in the bathroom that he looked away.