Maybe in another life-formula 1

Going back

"Okay, Daniel, those were some solid laps. Bring it back to the garage, please," Angelus said over the radio, voice crackling through the comms. "Well, he's definitely still got it," Christian said, turning to Angelus. Angelus nodded his head as he looked at the flashing data.

It wasn't a grand event—thank God for that. Red Bull had rented out the track for a tyre test, though the rumors were louder than the engines. People said it was more than that. A test, maybe, to see if they'd bring Daniel Ricciardo back into F1 to replace either Nyck de Vries or Sergio Perez. Angelus didn't know how long Christian could keep calling something so clearly true a "rumor"... maybe until he believed it himself. Angelus didn't know—and honestly, he didn't care. He wanted to go home.

It was only Angelus, Christian, and another engineer were at the pit wall as Daniel brought the car in.

Daniel jumped out of the car, helmet off, balaclava still in hand, the word Verstappen stitched across it in fading black. The debrief was short, technical, and efficient.

Somehow, Angelus found himself seated in Daniel's driver's room, laptop resting on his knees, scrolling through the run data while Daniel changed out of his suit.

"So?" Daniel asked, tugging off his race boots. "What do you think?"

Angelus raised an eyebrow, not looking up. "I mean... very solid laps. Compared to Pérez, you're a few tenths faster over race pace. You've still got it." He paused, then added dryly, "Did you bring me in just so I can tell you that?"

Daniel pulled on a clean shirt, then turned to face him, arms crossed. "I'm not asking for the data. I could've asked anyone for that. I'm asking what you think I should do."

Angelus looked up from the laptop, frowning. "I imagine your manager—Brad?—would be more helpful than I am. I'm not exactly known for my amazing career decisions."

Daniel smiled faintly, but didn't drop it. "I know, but I want to hear it from you. You say things how they are in your direct Italian way, you won't try and sell me the seat like everyone else."

Angelus exhaled slowly. "Alright." He closed the laptop and let it rest on the table beside him. "I think it's a gamble to take that seat. And it does not guarantee you the Red Bull one. You should know that."

Daniel nodded once.

Angelus continued. "I think you'd hate the AlphaTauri. It's a shitbox. And it sucks on all fronts. You're not going to fix it... Yes, I think Pérez is slightly underperforming ...yes, he is struggling with adjusting to the car, and yes, the car would suit you more—but his sponsors have long contracts and even deeper pockets. He's also signed for one more year."

Daniel ran a hand through his curls, sighing. "Yeah, it's not that bright, is it?"

Angelus finished. "I told you what I know. What I don't know is what you should do. I'm just an engineer."

Daniel stared at the floor for a moment, then looked up. "But what do you think?"

Angelus looked at him. "I wish I had answers. But I think... go with what your gut. Don't have regrets. And if you take the AlphaTauri seat, go into it knowing it might be your last one, that it might not end like how you wanted it to...It doesn't mean you failed in any way."

Daniel smiled, a real one this time. "You've got a lot of wisdom for a... what, 19-year-old?"

Angelus laughed. 

There was a pause, comfortable but weighted. Then Daniel's eyes lit up like he'd just remembered something.

"Oh! Look what popped up on my page earlier. I'd forgotten it, but—man, now I remember." He grabbed his phone from the table. "Do you remember Monza? 2016?"