THE ROOKIE driver ✔

Chapter 18: Marina Bay Street Circuit

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Thursday evening in Singapore was one of those perfect, tropical nights where the air clung to your skin, warm and sticky, but alive with an unmistakable buzz of excitement. The drivers had traded in the high-stakes intensity of formula one racing for a more relaxed—yet equally competitive—vibe at a local go-kart track. The track was a hotspot for locals and tourists alike, but tonight it was hosting something special: a chance for the Formula 1 drivers to let loose for a social media event for the formula one main accounts.

As Matteo strolled toward the track, the hum of conversation and laughter filled the air. The normally serious and laser-focused drivers were in good spirits, grinning and joking with each other, as the crew was busy setting up their accipients and the cameras were ready to capture every moment of the action. The karting track itself was lit up under bright floodlights, casting long shadows over the asphalt. Rows of colorful go-karts were lined up, engines already revving in that high-pitched, whiny way that instantly transported Matteo back to his early racing days. It was a far cry from the roaring power of their Formula 1 cars, but there was something nostalgic and thrilling about the simplicity of it all.

Matteo adjusted his helmet, a flicker of focus crossing his face as he and the other drivers started to climb into their karts. Matteo's cars was a bright red with stripes of yellow, It looked a little worn—like it had seen a few battles—but he didn't care. His excitement was palpable, the grin on his face stretching wide as he glanced over at the other drivers gearing up around him. This was supposed to be for fun, but Matteo could already feel the familiar flutter of competitiveness rising in his chest.

"Hey, Rossi!" Oliver Williams' voice rang out from a few feet away. He was leaning casually against his own kart, his grin was as cocky as ever, but there was a glint of playful mischief in his eyes. "Feeling pumped for this, or what?"

Matteo laughed, shaking his head as he settled into his kart's seat. "Oh, I'm pumped all right," he said, adjusting his gloves with a determined tug. "But don't think I'm going easy on you. I might be here for fun, but I'm definitely taking home some bragging rights tonight."

Oliver smirked, pushing off his kart and hopping into the seat. "Bring it on, mate. Just remember who's been owning the track lately."

Nearby, Leo, the Canadian driver from Eminence Velocity Racing, was fiddling with his kart like he was prepping for an actual race. He looked over at Matteo, a cheeky grin spreading across his face. "Hope you're ready for a real challenge, Rossi. I've been practicing my karting skills. No mercy tonight, my friend."

Matteo shot him a grin right back, feeling the camaraderie and good-natured rivalry swirling around them. "Oh, is that right? We'll see who's eating whose dust, Leo."

The group of drivers made their way toward the starting grid, a line of multicolored go-karts humming with barely contained energy. Engines purred and sputtered, the scent of gasoline and burning rubber mixing with the humid night air. The crowd gathered around the track, fans and locals alike, drawn to the rare sight of F1 drivers letting loose on a smaller stage. Even though this was just for fun, the atmosphere crackled with an undeniable energy—these guys were pros, and it didn't matter if it was a karting race or a Grand Prix, their competitive spirit never really turned off.

Matteo looked around at the other drivers, each one ready to leave it all on the track, even if it was just for laughs. Matteo pulled down his visor, the plastic clicking into place with a sense of finality. The fun banter and casual laughs faded into the background as his mind shifted into gear. The flag was raised, and the karts began to roar a little louder. He revved the engine, feeling the kart vibrate beneath him as adrenaline surged through his veins.