All the Way - an F1 story

55

12 December, 2021
📍Abu Dhabi, The United Arab Emirates

There was pandemonium as soon as Calina stepped back outside.

Marilena was guiding her through the horde of photographers and reporters. Richie, who Calina always saw as the calm, kind Pagani photographer, was behind her, his voice clear and loud as he shouted at those who tried to get too close. It was pure chaos, all around, and it was becoming too much for her.

"We need to go to the F.I.A." Marilena pulled Claina close, speaking close to her ear. "He wants to speak to you."

Calina's eyes widened. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

"I've got you, okay?" Marilena's tone was firm. "He can't do anything. He's not in charge."

Calina nodded. She knew she could trust Marilena, that the older woman would always have her back, but she couldn't help that sinking feeling. It only grew once they entered the building. Jean Todt was nowhere in sight, and that made it even worse.

Mohammed Ben Sulayem was waiting in his office; a smaller room, this time, but still just as tacky as the last time Calina found herself in front of his desk. He had the audacity to not even spare her a glance when she entered the room, and Calina could feel her shock dissipate at that, turning into a boiling rage. She watched as he continued typing on his computer, before looking at Marilena, who simply shook her head.

"What the hell did you want?"

Sulayem looked up, his expression suggesting he was surprised by the sudden anger in her tone. Calina crossed her arms, waiting for a response.

"Ms. Gaspé, there's no need for hostility."

"Well, the last time I found myself in your office, you came at me with a threat to disqualify me because of some bullshit over my name, so I honestly don't know what to expect," Calina replied. Behind her, Marlena cleared her throat, a clear warning to her to calm down. "So, what do you want from me now?"

Sulayem's glare was entirely cold as he turned his laptop around, a video of one of Calina's interviews from that Thursday played, one in which she had simply responded to the remarks Max had been making of her.

"Look, Max is entitled to his opinions, but I really don't care about what he has to say about me. I will admit that I am a bit surprised—I mean, I don't know what I've done for him to be talking like that, but it's whatever. If he wants to come at me like that, and say I'm not a serious driver, then that's fine. We can settle it on the track, then we'll see who's serious."

She couldn't help but roll her eyes, because of course he would use that against her. Of course he wouldn't acknowledge the interviews that led her to answer that question like that. Max was the saint in this situation.

"And you just walked out of a press conference. Ms. Gaspé, you are on a roll, aren't you?"

"Well, I don't like to waste my time just sitting there when clearly no one has any questions for me."

"You also attacked the character of another driver on live, international television." Sulayem sat back in his chair, looking smug now. "That's not a very good look for you. You really seem to be willing to destroy your own reputation with the media."

"You think I give a shit what the media has to say about me?" Calina countered.

"Well, with your position, I ought to believe you should. Take it too far, and— well, I just hope nothing goes too far with another driver."

Calina watched silently as Sulayem stood up, looking out the window that faced the paddock, where down below, a mass of people were gathered by the Red Bull hospitality, celebrating the new World Champion.