LEGACY/// FORMULA ONE (3)

SIXTY NINE

SIXTY NINE

"I don't think that you should race, Larissa."

Toto Wolff spoke in a gently voice as his young driver walked in to her garage on the morning of her race in Spa, the same track where she had lost her best friend only yesterday.

He watched as she tried so desperately to cling on to her feelings, rubbing her eyes which looked a painful red color from all of the crying that she had done the day prior.

She had travelled from Liège, where Juan was being looked after in hospital, having stayed with him all night as she was scared that she would wake up and find out that she had lost him too, but thankfully, he was still fighting.

Then, she travelled back to Spa, to race.

She had the record for ten grand prix wins in a row and she knew that she had a high chance of that winning streak to come to an end due to how unstable her emotions were.

She was clinging on to life, just as much as Juan was.

"I can't let him down."

Larissa Cohen mumbled in a rough and gravelly sounding voice as she grabbed her fireproofs, climbing in to them without hesitating, as if she was on autopilot, though she looked more like a zombie than anything else.

"You're not letting anybody down if you don't race, as your boss I have to worry about you and your wellbeing and I do not think that you are well enough to get in to a car and drive at high speeds. You look like shit and I don't want you harming yourself or anybody else." Toto placed his hand on to his girls shoulder in an attempt to comfort her, his voice gentle but authoritative.

It was his job to look after his drivers, and he knew that she was not fit to drive.

"I can't let him down, I promised him that I wouldn't let him down." Larissa mumbled once again, obviously having not heard a word of what her team principal had said.

It appeared that she was completely in her own world, zoned out.

The Austrian man watched as she headed towards her car, noticing how her moves were sluggish and slow, looking as if she was dragging her body to get to her car, his heart aching for her.

She looked so broken.

"Lar, you are not fit to drive. Please, he wouldn't want you to do this." 

Esteban Ocon spoke with a pained look in his eyes, having himself lost his childhood friend. He didn't want to lose Larissa too.

"I can't let him down, I promised that I wouldn't let Anthoine down." Larissa mumbled once again, climbing in to her car, though the Ocon man grabbed her around her waist in an attempt to stop her, fearful for the girl in front of him.

He knew that cameras were on them right now, journalists talking about how the Cohen girl must be feeling and how much a mess she looked, how much pressure that she was under.

It wasn't right. Esteban knew that.

Everybody knew how much of an emotional day it was for everybody, how much a mess that she had been yesterday as she had ran to her friends as one of them lay dying, crying and sobbing until she had been forced away from them.

They should be leaving her alone, not filming her and talking about her.

The French man grunted in pain as the Cohen girls elbow collided with his stomach, sending him stumbling backwards which then allowed her to climb in to her car, clicking her seat belt in to place so that she could race at Spa.