𝐈𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐛𝐥𝐞, Formula 1

Chapter 15

We stand for the Monaco anthem, all drivers lined up as usual. Except for Charles, of course. You'd think he's their crown jewel with how they treat him.

He's stood right in front of the royal family, in front of them! I know him well enough to understand how much this is feeding his ego. I suppress a smirk, settling for glaring at the back of Verstappen's head.

He's starting ahead of me. It would be a bloodthirsty race.

The anthem finishes, and like tidal waves, the track is consumed in chaos. Mechanics rush to cars while photographers try and get final photos of drivers. I shove past an energetic Crofty interviewing a less enthused Gasly.

I walk past a Ferrari of Leclerc, and the Mercedes of Hamilton. He's always performed well here, it's no surprise he's starting ahead of me on the grid.

I peek over my shoulder and see Charles being paraded about like some king. To monegasques, he's already won. Pole position is enough to make him a shining hero. His cheeks are flushed and his face is theatric in its expressions.

He's so excited, any onlooker can see.

I make it to the familiar orange and white car, I pat the sides of it gently. Someone hands me my helmet and it slides over my head. It muffles some cheering, but it's still present.

I get in the car and that familiar feeling washes over me, or lack thereof. I shake out my shoulders as I set my sights on the car ahead of me.

Defend.

Forget Verstappen for a second, focus on keeping my places.

In this track, it's not just about getting past turn 1. It's having eyes on the back of your head on every single corner. There's no spot to take a breath, because if you do, you're already behind.

My eyes stare holes into the back of Hamilton's car. They dart to Leclerc, knowing how he must be twitching like how he does when he's excited.

The lights are going out in a flash. I can hear the cheers roar louder, even over the humming of my car.

Turn 1 and I keep my place.

Verstappen is pushing me towards the wall, hogging the entire road! I slowly inch my car closer to his, going wheel to wheel through every corner.

We speed through the corners, gaining on the Ferrari ahead of us. But I don't see that, all I see is the Red Bull that's threatening my wheels into the wall.

He brakes, I brake a millisecond later. I know he notices because I'm the next corner he pushed us both wide from braking beyond the reasonable apex.

Lap 4

Yellow flags are waving wildly. My eyes flash to my mirrors, seeing cars eventually slide into view.

"Who was it?" I ask on my radio.

My mind isn't focused on the crash, it's on Verstappen. I saw the red flags when he was directly beside me. I'm not willing to give up with position.

Neither is he, apparently.

"Russel and Perez crashed." Francisco says. Then, after a second, "let Verstappen have the place."

It makes my jaw tighten.

"He has to back off too, or-or not go speeding off, that's not fair!" I say, voice high strung and unlike my own.

"Radio..." Francisco reminds me. Right, I'm sure my voice is on every broadcast right now. I stay silent. "Just bring in the points, we will fight later." He promises.