Turbulence [𝗠.𝗩.]

Monaco, Race Day

"This is a track where qualifying determines the race. If you're not on the front line, you haven't a hope of being on the podium, let alone winning."

⸻

MONACO
6TH RACE OF THE SEASON
MAY

"Fancy your chances today, Estie?" I call over the noise of the busy garages.

"Estie?" I hear Lando ask from up ahead of us. He looks like he's just heard me drop the worst possible insult. Esteban's laughing.

"Yeah, you heard me." I'm not backing off, even if it'll get me mocked. I know I'm one of a rare few that gets along well with the Frenchman. "I can start calling him Estie Bestie if that's better?"

"No!" Lando shouts, turning away from us as we cackle at him.

After we've heard the national anthem, I catch up to Esteban again quickly, tapping his arm. To get him to turn around. I know we have limited time before the race starts, I also know I have no hope in hell of getting to the podium from P9.

"Kick Max off the podium for me." I half-shout into his ear, earning myself a laugh off of him. "I'm serious! I have a bet going with Olivia, you gotta kick Max off there for me! I'll buy you dinner tonight if you do it!"

He laughs, stopping at his car, whilst I have to walk on to mine. I almost feel sorry for Mick; he's at the back of the grid. Hopefully he doesn't have a repeat of last year, when he smashed the car into pieces. I don't think Oliver would be pleased about it, even if he has previously said he wouldn't be too upset over a crash here and there.

As I get into the car and prepare for the race, it all becomes a blur of routine. Radio? Working. Car? Responsive and set up how I want it to be. Formation lap? Nice and smooth.

Lights? On.

Out.

I stay on Carlos Sainz's side as we go through the first turn, but he's got off the mark quicker than me, and I have to remain in my position, following him around the track. Yellow flags briefly fly up.

"Is Mick okay?"

"Mick avoided the contact." Mateo replies in a short, focused tone. He wants my head on my race position, not my teammate's, as I settle into a long stint at P9.

As I manage the chicane smoothly on Lap 3, I hear Mateo again. "Potential penalty for Russell. Will update you if it happens."

"What for?"

"Starting position."

Russell wasn't in the lines. Good. His mistake - if they slap him with a penalty - becomes my fortune. As the knowledge rattles around the back of my mind, I feel the barrier come close to my rear right at Tabac. I know it's the air movement this time and not my mistake. It feels just like my near-miss in the earlier sessions two days ago.

Sainz takes his chance to start hopping up places, leaving me behind Russell. Thank you very much, I think to myself as I try to get closer, only to take back my gratitude seconds later.

"Negative on penalty."

Fuck's sake. Well then, I'll have to take him on if I want an extra point.

"How are the tyres looking?"

"Deg as expected. Pit window remains the same."

The visual mess of the city becomes irrelevant to my eyes and mind as my world narrows down to the track and the cars ahead and behind me. I have another sixty-odd laps to go, if I'm counting properly. I have time. Plenty of it. For now, I need to settle into how I take the circuit.