A HIT NEW BOMBSHELL ENTERS THE F1 WORLD
Celia Winter, the first woman to ever win a Grand Prix and the woman that almost (by 9 points) won the world championships her second year
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The sun hung low over the São Paulo paddock, casting long shadows across the track as the Friday practice sessions came to a close. Celia was making her way back to the VW garage, her mind buzzing with the usual pre-race adrenaline, when Mick walked up beside her, hands tucked in his race suit pockets. He seemed...off.
"Hey, you okay?" she asked, sensing something was wrong.
Mick hesitated before speaking, his expression serious. "I need to tell you something, but promise you won't freak out."
Celia raised an eyebrow. "That's never a good way to start a conversation."
He sighed. "I'm leaving VW."
The words hit her like a ton of bricks. "Wait, what?" She stopped walking, her eyes widening in disbelief. "Mick, what do you mean you're leaving?"
"I got offered the Mercedes seat for next season," Mick explained softly, his tone apologetic. "Since Lewis is moving to Ferrari, and they want me to take his place."
Celia felt her stomach drop. Mick had been her teammate, her rock, and one of her closest friends since they both joined the VW team. The thought of not having him by her side during races, the thought of him driving for another team—Mercedes, no less—was a lot to take in.
"But... Mick," she started, her voice trailing off as she tried to find the right words. "You can't just leave. This team...we're like family."
"I know," he said, looking at her with empathy. "But this is a huge opportunity. You know how hard it is to say no to a seat like that."
Celia ran a hand through her hair, still trying to wrap her head around it.
Mick gave her a sad smile. "I know, Celia, and I'm sorry. But you should be happy for Logan, he's going to kill it. And this team is in good hands."
"Mick, Logan just signed his Indy car contract" said Celia "oh" "yeah, oh"
Her mind raced. They'd need someone reliable, someone fast, and someone who could mesh well with the team. Then, like a light bulb going off, she thought of Paul Aron, a talented young driver in F2, and one of the brightest stars in her racing academy.
"I'll talk to our team boss," Celia said, more to herself than to Mick. "Paul could be the perfect fit."
Mick smiled softly. "See? You've already got it covered."
She forced a smile, but her heart was heavy. "I'm gonna miss you, Mick."
"You're not getting rid of me that easily," he chuckled, pulling her into a hug. "I'll still be around. Just in different colors."
Later that evening, Celia was still reeling from the news when she overheard a conversation between Max and Daniel. The Australian's laughter echoed down the hallway of the paddock, but something about their exchange caught her attention. She slowed her pace, staying just out of sight.
