Y/N was living the dream. From the moment she was old enough to understand the thrill of racing, Formula 1 had become her universe. The rush of engines, the smell of burning rubber, the precision of the pit stop—all of it was as intoxicating as it was fulfilling. Working as a race engineer for McLaren wasn’t just a job; it was a calling, a passion, something that made her feel more alive than anything else in the world.
Y/N's friendship with Lando Norris and Oscar Piastri had been the unexpected, beautiful result of years spent in the pressure cooker that was F1. She had started at McLaren as a junior engineer but quickly climbed the ranks, earning the trust and respect of both the team and the drivers. They weren’t just colleagues; they were a tight-knit group, bonded by the trials of racing and the rare moments of triumph.
Lando and Y/N had clicked from the beginning. His easy-going nature balanced out her meticulousness. They spent hours together outside of work, from gaming nights to impromptu road trips across Europe during the off-season. Lando's infectious laugh had always been the perfect antidote to the stress that came with the job. Oscar, though quieter and more reserved, found solace in Y/N's calming presence. He was the newer addition to the team, and Y/N had taken it upon herself to help him adjust, ensuring he felt at home both in and out of the cockpit.
The three of them were inseparable, and their friendship was a source of joy in the grueling, high-stakes world they inhabited. Y/N's life was a blur of pit wall strategies, telemetry data, and late-night debriefs, but she wouldn’t have traded it for anything. She knew she was part of something special, not just a team, but a family.
It was the Italian Grand Prix that year that changed everything. The team had been struggling with performance issues throughout the season, but that weekend in Monza, something seemed to click. The car was fast, and both Lando and Oscar were feeling confident. Y/N had worked tirelessly with the crew to perfect the setup, analyzing every tiny detail, chasing every possible millisecond they could gain. Lando had qualified fourth, Oscar sixth—solid positions with plenty of potential to move up the grid.
Race day arrived with all the usual fanfare. The air was thick with anticipation as the drivers lined up on the grid. Y/N was stationed on the pit wall, headset on, eyes glued to the screens that monitored every aspect of the cars. The race began, and for the first few laps, everything went perfectly. Lando was holding his position, Oscar was making ground, and the possibility of a double podium finish for McLaren started to feel real.
But motorsport is unpredictable. The 35th lap was where it all went wrong. A slight miscommunication between Y/N and Lando during a crucial pit stop window led to him staying out one lap too long on worn tires. When he finally pitted, the time lost was substantial. Y/N cursed under her breath, the frustration and guilt gnawing at her insides. It wasn’t just a mistake; it was a potential podium slipping through their fingers.
Lando’s radio crackled to life. “We’ll make it back, Y/N. Let’s keep pushing.”
Y/N's voice trembled slightly as she responded. “Copy that, Lando. We’ve got this.”
But fate had other plans. As Lando rejoined the track, battling for position, a collision unfolded ahead of him. A slower car spun out, and in the chaos that followed, Lando had nowhere to go. The sickening sound of carbon fiber shattering echoed through the airwaves as his car was struck violently. The screens in front of Y/N erupted into a frenzy of red flags and alarms.
Time seemed to stand still as Y/N watched Lando’s car skid to a halt, debris scattered across the track. The pit wall was silent, everyone holding their breath, waiting for Lando’s voice to cut through the tension.
