𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐅𝐄𝐑𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐈 | 𝐂𝐋𝟏𝟔

𝐗𝐗𝐈𝐈𝐈

·˚ ༘

────────────────────────────────────────

March 5th 2023

ZAHRA NICHOLS

The race had ended, and the atmosphere in the paddock was wild. Engines roared and then silenced, leaving an echo of the excitement that had just unfolded on the track. The air was filled with the scents of burnt rubber and sweat, mingling with the leftover buzz of adrenaline. It had been an eventful race, and now it was time for the post-race interviews.

During the race, my phone buzzed. Anderson's name flashed on the screen. "Nichols, you're switching assignments with Hansen," he said, his voice fast and no-nonsense. "He'll cover the race reports and you're on post-race interviews. Nearing the end of the race I'll send you a list of drivers to talk to, but Parker's also covering some people so it's probably just gonna be one driver," he said, then quickly hung up before I could say a word.

I glanced at the list Anderson sent over. There was only one name on it: Leclerc. Charles had a DNF, a mechanical failure. I tried to feel a twinge of sympathy; this wasn't the way any driver wanted to start their season, but there was also a bit of anxiety forming in my stomach.

My task now was to get a one-on-one interview with Charles. Well, not exactly one-on-one. It was those interviews where a bunch of reporters would pile up while multiple drivers did separate interviews at the same time. It was going to be loud, chaotic, and nerve-wracking. A part of me dreaded it, but the professional in me pushed those feelings aside. I approached the area where Charles was standing, surrounded by a few early reporters. He looked frustrated, his usual calm self slightly cracked by the day's events.

I took a deep breath, gripping my mic tightly, cue cards ready, and made my way towards him, a huge camera and a few crew members following me. I flashed my SkySports lanyard and the crowd parted just enough to let me through, and suddenly, I was face to face with Charles again. At least in the last interview, we were separated by a table.

"Charles," I said, pushing the mic towards him. "Tough day out there. Can you tell us what happened?"

He looked straight into my eyes, and I could feel the intensity of his gaze. It was like he was searching for something in my expression, some clue or answer that he couldn't find. I tried to maintain eye contact but found it getting harder by the second. My heart raced, but I needed to stay focused.

"Yeah, it was a tough race," Charles began, his voice strained but controlled. "We had a mechanical failure that forced us to retire early. The team is looking into it now, but it's obviously not the way we wanted to start the season."

I nodded, trying to keep my questions sharp and to the point. "What are your thoughts on the car's performance before the failure? Did you feel competitive out there?"

Again, his eyes locked onto mine, and I felt a lump in my throat. Was he trying to say something other than the usual interview answers? I glanced down at my notes for a moment, breaking the eye contact to get my self control back.

"The car felt good initially," he replied. "We had a strong pace, and I was confident in our strategy. It's just unfortunate that we couldn't see it through to the end."

I nodded, moving on to the next question. "How do you plan to bounce back from this in the next race?"

He paused, his eyes still piercing mine, as if he were searching for answers beyond my words. "We'll analyze what went wrong, fix the issues, and come back stronger. The team is resilient, and so am I. We'll be ready for the next race."