THE ROOKIE driver ✔

Chapter 6: Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari

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The morning sun had just begun to stretch across the Emilia-Romagna hills, casting a golden hue over the storied tarmac of the Imola Circuit. For many, this was a sacred place—where legends had been made and lost, where the echoes of past races still whispered through the trees that lined the track. The Emilia Romagna Grand Prix wasn't just another race; it was a return to one of the places where his love for racing had first blossomed. The track was as much a part of his childhood as the streets of Rome. But as he stepped out of his car and walked into the paddock, the usual buzz of activity surrounded him. Engineers hustled around, setting up for the weekend, while journalists and photographers were hunting for the next soundbite or candid shot, and fans buzzed like bees, eager to capture every moment.

Matteo checked his watch, knowing that every minute of his day had been meticulously planned out by his PR team. He barely had a moment to take in the sight of the track before Clara, his PR manager, was already by his side, clipboard in hand and a determined expression on her face holding out a crisp schedule.

"Morning, Matteo," she greeted him with a smile "We've got a packed day, so I need you on your A-game. First an interview with Sky Sports, followed by some time with the Italian press, just a few questions and photos to satisfy the Italian fans. Then it's the main press conference, a quick break for lunch, and then a photoshoot with Pirelli. We'll finish off with a fan Q&A and a roundtable with the other drivers. Sound good?"

"Sounds good" Matteo replied, trying to keep his tone light even as he inwardly sighed. The day was going to be long, and he could already feel the tension settling into his shoulders.

Clara gave him a reassuring nod. "I know it's a lot, but Just take it one thing at a time. And remember, the fans are really going to be pulling for you this weekend. Give them a good show, yeah?"

Matteo nodded, though he knew his smile didn't quite reach his eyes. He appreciated Clara's attempt to keep him motivated, but truth be told, he didn't really enjoy media day, just being taken pictures of and interviewed all day long wasn't really how he wished to spend his Thursdays. As much as he loved racing, the endless parade of media obligations was something he had never fully embraced.

The day kicked off with the interview for Sky Sports. Matteo was ushered into a small setup just outside the paddock, where a host and cameraman were already waiting. The questions were routine, covering everything from his thoughts on the season so far to his expectations for Imola. Matteo answered them all with practiced ease, his responses measured and polite, but inside, he was counting down the minutes until he could move on.

He knew how important it was to maintain a good relationship with the media—after all, they were the ones who shaped his public image. But it was hard not to feel like a puppet, repeating the same lines he had said a hundred times before. He smiled when expected, laughed at the lighthearted questions, and nodded thoughtfully at the more serious ones. But his mind kept drifting back to the track, where he longed to be.

After the Sky Sports segment, he was quickly shuttled to a corner of the paddock where a group of Italian journalists had gathered. This interview was more personal, touching on his upbringing, his family, and what it meant to race in front of an Italian crowd. Matteo tried to stay engaged, but the repetition was starting to wear him down. He answered questions about his childhood memories of Imola, about the pride he felt representing Italy, but inside, he was already exhausted.

As he moved from one interview to the next, Matteo couldn't help but feel a growing sense of frustration. The questions were all the same, yet each reporter seemed to expect a fresh, enthusiastic response. By the time he reached the press conference room, he was struggling to keep up the facade. The bright lights and the sea of cameras waiting to capture his every word felt suffocating.