Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Monaco, Pre-Race

"This is not the track you want to bring new upgrades to, yet Mercedes and Jaguar have brought substantial ones to their cars. Perhaps they felt it was necessary to bring them in sooner rather than later?"

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MONACO
6TH RACE WEEKEND OF THE SEASON
MAY

We didn't get to go to Monaco early. The teams did, setting up quickly and preparing the garages, but we didn't. Liam wasn't too fussed about it, but James was. I'm not sure if it's going to affect the three of us, really. We've all raced here before, and we'll all probably finish near to each other, considering Monaco is our shared weakness.

I wander into the garage to speak to Carlos, one of the mechanics that's been a star in helping me better communicate with the team when it comes to relaying information about how the car feels to drive. I'm not like half the big names, who know the ins and outs of the cars, but I do know when something feels wrong with it. I'm just not that great at explaining it when it really matters.

The upgrades look good. Visually, our car isn't too different. It's not like Mercedes who have gone from that ugly smoothed side to something more resembling the RB19. We already had chunky sidepods; the people working flat out at the factory wanted to adjust them for better airflow. As I'm reminded of all the upgrades again, walking around the car with my helmet in my hand, I'm fairly confident that even if these changes don't generate a sudden improvement here, they'll do it in Barcelona.

"Will we be able to catch up with Mercedes?"

Carlos scoffs. "Absolutely. Mercedes are rushing to copy Red Bull. We're testing out what does and doesn't work and then we'll put it towards next year, when you guys will have a title-worthy car."

He's not entirely wrong about Mercedes. From what I've heard, they've copied the high front wheel suspension - something we run as well. But they still have that huge floor, which has our team doubting whether Mercedes really has brought anything game-changing to their car overall.

"What do we think about the risk of sliding for this weekend? If I can't keep the rear in check, you guys will have an insane amount of work to do when I hit the barriers."

"Minimal, but this is Monaco, everyone slides here."

I pull my helmet on, laughing gently at the remark. He isn't wrong. Even the most experienced drivers can end up eating their confidence if they so much as touch certain barriers. A few teams have been unable to score more than one point between both drivers over the past handful of years here.

We aren't expecting much. Just getting a single point between us will be good enough for Oliver.

I'm in the car and out of the garage early. Monaco will get busy quickly. Everyone wants to be out and testing how tight the track feels compared to the size of their cars. I take my first lap slowly, which enrages the engine, but I have to let past drivers like Alonso and Hamilton, who are already zipping around the narrow streets.

My second lap doesn't go well. I almost clip the barrier at turn 12 - Tabac - because I misjudge the space available.

"Shit! Check damage, check damage!"

"No damage."

Thank fuck.

I use a few more laps to gain confidence, but I have to bottle out of the Nouvelle Chicane twice in a row. It's so sharp, so tight, that as my car tries to threaten a lockup on me, it's better I just slow down and go straight through rather than risk a full lockup that'll destroy a set of tyres.

With half the session to go, yellow flags come out. I slow down, as required, but the flags change to goddamn red.

"What happened?"

"Webb. Kissed a barrier and lost a wheel for it."

I'm almost pressing the white TALK button to ask if he's okay, stopped only by catching sight of him ahead, right up to the side to allow everyone to pass. He's out of the car and looking unhappy about it with the way he lets his arms fall to the side. I can't see which barrier he's smacked - I'm already past and heading to the pits now - but I don't doubt he screwed it up coming into turn 15 and ended up smacking his front right into the following turn's barrier. It's the same mistake I made the last time I was here.

"While we're waiting, any chance we can get the suspension looked at? The car tried to throw me at the chicane."

"Copy, will do."

The red flag doesn't last more than a few minutes, but I remain in the pits for longer. By the time I can go back out, Albon's slammed into another barrier with amazing timing. Free Practice 1 won't be resumed. I'll have to wait until the second session to test if the suspension adjustments have worked out.

In the break between the sessions, I catch up to James. He's not expecting to get out for the next session, nor is Alex. Their cars are both damaged enough that it'll be a long night for the mechanics. There's not much I can do but offer my sympathies; I have to get out there and use the session, even if they can't.

And use the session I do.

On mediums, I'm getting better lap times. I dare to get closer to the barrier at Tabac, mostly down to the encouragement of Mateo, who wants me to stop being so scared of the risks. I get why: the more I try to avoid one barrier, the more I'll hit the one I'm not currently looking at.

My timings are improving, but I'm not in the top ten yet because I keep running close to slow-moving cars. Every time I see the white flags, I'm trusting that the driver - or drivers - ahead of me will be out of the way. They're not. It's by some sort of miracle that when Stroll takes the Mirabeau turns slowly, right in my way, I don't go straight up his rear.

"What the fuck is going on with this Aston Martin?!"

I know raging down the radio won't do much about it now that I've had to abandon the flying lap, but it makes me feel better.

As I prepare to go for another attempt at a flying lap, the red flags make another return.

I think I really do hate red now.