𝙾𝚛𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚊𝚛𝚢┃ Charles Leclerc┃

Chapter Sixteen - The Podium

The Australian Grand Prix—the adrenaline, the thrill, and the weight of anticipation—loomed on the horizon. The familiar routine of preparation became a sacred ritual, especially knowing that my dad and sister would be watching from the paddock, eagerly awaiting the race.

Each step in my pre-race routine carried a sense of purpose, a determined focus to leave no stone unturned. The memories of the last race, ending in that godforsaken crash, lingered in the recesses of my mind, a reminder of the fine line between triumph and setback in the world of Formula 1.

Amidst the buzzing energy of the paddock, my preparations commenced—a meticulous routine of physical and mental readiness. The engineers fine-tuned the car, their dedication a testament to our collective pursuit of perfection.

As I geared up, the anticipation soared. The Australian Grand Prix was more than just a race; it was a chance for redemption, a shot at rewriting the narrative, and showcasing the resilience that defined me as an F1 driver.

The presence of my dad and sister added a layer of excitement and determination. Their unwavering support was a driving force, a reminder that each turn of the wheel wasn't just for me but for the family and fans who stood behind me.

The lack of the presence of my mother also added a layer of determination. As I slid into my racing suit, the familiar mix of nerves and adrenaline surged through me. The hum of the track buzzed in the distance, and my heart echoed its rhythm. Memories flooded back, especially of Mum—the one who ignited this fire within me. Her absence was a silent motivator, her words echoing: "Go after your dreams, no matter what." I could always feel her presence in every turn, urging me to push harder, go faster, and never give up. This race wasn't just about winning; it was about honoring her spirit, channeling her strength, and proving that her legacy lives on in every mile I conquer.

Strapping into the cockpit, a surge of energy coursed through me, a mix of nerves and unwavering passion. The roar of the engines enveloped the paddock, drowning out any lingering doubts, as I focused on the task ahead.

As the moments ticked by, the rituals of visualisation and mental preparation intensified—a symphony of concentration amidst the surrounding chaos. The grid awaited, a battleground where speed and strategy converged, demanding my utmost skill and focus.

The starting grid beckoned, a realm where dreams collided with reality, and champions were forged in the heat of competition. My gaze lingered on the paddock, knowing my family watched from there, their presence a source of strength.

As the engines revved and the race began, I knew this wasn't just about a singular pursuit; it was about channeling the collective hopes and aspirations vested in me, a chance to turn setbacks into moments of triumph and determination into victory.

"So Ana, we're going with plan A. Attack as much as you can, but protect those tires. The track is going to be hot, so you need to preserve them."

During qualifiers the day prior, I had followed the same strategy plan and had finished in 4th place. It was effective, successful, and clearly the only path I could take for the actual race. That was, as long as Christian Horner didn't decide to throw some sort of spike strip in front of my car.

"Copy." I spoke to Jake through my radio.

The sun blazed high overhead as I gripped the wheel, the scorching heat adding to the intensity of the moment.

The engines roared to life, echoing through the circuit as I catapulted into the fray. The first lap was a whirlwind of adrenaline, the cars jostling for position, inches separating triumph from setback.

The circuit unfolded before me—a demanding labyrinth of twists and turns, each corner a test of precision and nerve. The pressure was immense, the weight of expectations heavy on my shoulders, as I navigated the treacherous chicanes and hairpin bends.