ready for it ...

iii. bahrain

The Bahrain International Circuit shimmered under the desert sun as Celia Winter, her purple VW Racing car glistening, pulled out of the garage for the all-important qualifying session. She felt a surge of adrenaline coursing through her veins, a mix of excitement and determination. The challenge of securing pole position was an exhilarating prospect.

Inside the cockpit, Celia adjusted her gloves and tightened her grip on the steering wheel. Her helmet felt snug, like a second skin, as she focused her thoughts on the task ahead. The radio crackled to life, and Konrad's voice came through her earpiece.

"Alright, Celia," Konrad said calmly. "This is it. The moment we've been preparing for. Let's give it everything we've got."

Celia nodded, her eyes fixed on the track ahead. "I'm ready, Konrad. Let's go."

She revved the engine and accelerated down the pit lane. The Bahrain circuit's first few corners felt like old friends, and she navigated them with precision, warming up the tires to the perfect temperature.

As she approached Turn 4, Celia unleashed the full power of her VW car, the roar of the engine echoing in her ears. The desert wind rushed past, and she felt in sync with the machine beneath her. The car felt responsive and agile, a testament to the meticulous work of her mechanics and engineers.

The timing screens in the pit garage displayed provisional lap times. Celia was pushing hard, extracting every ounce of performance from her car. Max Verstappen had set a blistering time, and she knew she needed to beat it to secure pole position.

"Konrad, how's our pace compared to Verstappen?" Celia asked, her voice steady.

There was a brief pause before Konrad replied, "Celia, you're on pace, but we need a little more. Push harder on this next lap."

Celia gritted her teeth and attacked the corners with even more determination. The tires gripped the track like velcro, and she felt the G-forces pushing her body to the limit. As she rounded the final turn and crossed the finish line, she glanced at the timing screens.

P1.

The satisfaction of seeing her name at the top of the leaderboard filled her with a surge of pride. But she knew it wasn't over yet. There were still minutes left in the session, and Verstappen would be gunning for a response.

"Fantastic, Celia!" Konrad's voice crackled with excitement. "You've taken provisional pole. Just a few more minutes to hold it."

Celia kept her foot down, pushing herself to the edge as she circled the circuit once more. The tension was palpable as Verstappen and the others chased her time.

The seconds felt like hours, but as the checkered flag waved, Celia's position remained unchanged. She had done it—secured pole position at the Bahrain Grand Prix.

As she guided her car back to the garage, the team erupted into cheers. Celia couldn't help but smile beneath her helmet, knowing that her hard work and determination had paid off.

She switched the radio to the team channel. "Thank you, Konrad. You and the team are amazing. This one's for all of us."

Konrad's voice crackled back with pride, "You did it, Celia. Pole position. Now let's focus on tomorrow's race. We've got a championship to win."

From the VW garage she could she how annoyed Max was. Oh how she loved proving people wrong. Especially men. Especially Max Verstappen.

X

The first Grand Prix had arrived. Celia stood on the grid, her purple VW Racing car gleaming under the floodlights. She was determined to convert her front-row start into a victory, but she knew that Max, wouldn't make it easy.

As the red lights went out, Celia's car rocketed off the line, chasing Max down the long straight towards Turn 1. The roar of engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air as the pack jostled for position. Celia was right on Max's tail, her eyes fixed on the Red Bull who overtook her straight.

The radio crackled with Konrad's voice. "Good start, Celia. Stay focused, and let's push for the lead again."

Celia nodded inside her helmet, determination etched on her face. She was in Max's slipstream, inching closer with each passing second. Then, as they approached Turn 4, it happened—a sudden jolt rocked her car. She swore under her breath as her front wing scraped against Max's rear tire.

"Konrad, I've got damage to the front wing," Celia reported, frustration evident in her voice.

"Copy that, Celia," Konrad replied. "Stay out for now. We'll assess the damage."

Celia fought to keep her car stable, but the aerodynamic imbalance was taking its toll. Max was pulling away, and she couldn't attack like before. She nursed her wounded car through the next few laps, desperately trying to stay in the fight.

"Box, Celia, box," Konrad ordered. "We need to change the wing."

Celia dove into the pit lane, and the VW Racing team sprang into action. In what felt like an eternity, they replaced her damaged front wing and sent her back onto the track. But precious time had been lost, and she rejoined the race down in P5.

She pushed her car to the limit, slicing through the field, determined to salvage a podium finish. Meanwhile, Max Verstappen continued to lead, his Red Bull untouchable.

As the laps ticked away, Celia found herself in P3, behind Max and Checo Perez. But then, a surprise in the form of Fernando Alonso, driving brilliantly for Aston Martin, emerged in her mirrors.

The radio crackled to life again. "Celia, you've got Alonso behind you. Hold your position."

Celia defended with all her might, fending off Alonso's relentless attacks. But it was clear that her chances of catching Max were slipping away. Then, in a daring move, Alonso lunged past, relegating her to P4.

Frustration boiled within Celia. She pushed harder, trying to regain her lost ground, but time was running out. The checkered flag waved, and Max Verstappen took the victory, with Checo Perez in P2.

Celia crossed the finish line in P4, her disappointment palpable. She knew that her race had been compromised by the early clash with Max, and it left a bitter taste in her mouth.

Back in the garage, she climbed out of her car, helmet still on, and stormed over to the wall where her mechanics awaited. Her voice was filled with anger as she spoke over the radio, "I can't believe he ruined my race! He crossed the line this time! He didn't even get a penalty"

Konrad tried to console her, "Celia, we'll analyze the race and see what happened. Sometimes, these things are beyond our control."

But Celia was fuming, her eyes burning with intensity. She had lost the race she believed she could win, and Max Verstappen had played a significant role in it. It was a rivalry that had just escalated to a whole new level. And it was already bad. There was no doubt that the battles between them would be fiercer than ever in the races to come.