Unexpected Teammate
Y/N stood at the edge of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas garage, her eyes scanning the data screens, fingers tapping against the tablet in her hand. She could feel the stares of the other engineers and mechanics. They weren’t hostile, but the unspoken skepticism lingered in the air. At twenty-eight, Y/N was the youngest lead engineer in the team’s history—and the first woman to hold the title. She was used to being underestimated, but this was different. This was Formula 1. The stakes were higher, the pressure relentless.
And, of course, there was Lewis Hamilton.
As if on cue, Lewis entered the garage, his signature calm swagger present as always. His helmet dangled casually in his hand, and though his face was relaxed, Y/N could see the intensity in his eyes. He was a seven-time world champion, after all. His gaze flicked toward her for just a second, but it was enough to send a clear message: prove yourself.
Y/N straightened up. She had been preparing for this moment since the day she accepted the position, and despite the lingering doubt in the room, she knew she belonged here.
"Ready for the session?" Lewis asked, his voice even, though there was an edge of curiosity in it.
"Yes, I've made some changes to the setup," Y/N replied, keeping her tone professional. She handed him the tablet. "I adjusted the rear wing angle and fine-tuned the suspension stiffness. It should give you better traction out of the corners without compromising top speed."
Lewis glanced at the data. His brow furrowed ever so slightly as he scanned through the adjustments. "Interesting," he murmured, almost to himself. He looked up at her. "This is different from what the team usually does."
"I know. But trust me—it’ll work," Y/N said, hoping the confidence in her voice masked her nerves.
Lewis didn’t say anything else. He gave a small nod and turned toward the car, handing the tablet back to her. Y/N let out a small breath she didn’t realize she had been holding and moved back to her station, watching as Lewis climbed into the cockpit.
The session began, and Y/N monitored every piece of data flowing in from the car. Her heart pounded in sync with the engine's roar, watching the tire temperatures, brake wear, and lap times. Lewis was fast, but he was pushing the car harder than usual, testing its limits under her new configuration.
"Lap time’s improving," one of the other engineers said, sounding a little surprised.
Y/N smiled to herself. She knew it would. Her calculations had been spot on, and now it was showing on the track.
Over the radio, Lewis's voice crackled. "Car feels… good. Balance is better in the low-speed corners."
A wave of relief washed over Y/N, but she didn’t let it show. There was still work to do, and she knew one good lap wouldn't erase the doubt surrounding her. She stayed focused, making small adjustments throughout the session, listening intently to every piece of feedback from Lewis.
When the session finally ended, Lewis climbed out of the car and headed straight toward her. He pulled off his helmet, his brow damp with sweat, but his expression unreadable.
"You were right," he said simply, handing the helmet to one of the crew. "The car feels better. Whatever you did, it worked."
Y/N nodded, trying not to let her relief show too much. "Thanks. But we can improve it further for tomorrow. I think we can shave off another tenth if we tweak the diff and tire pressures."
Lewis studied her for a moment. His guarded skepticism seemed to soften ever so slightly, but he wasn’t going to give away too much just yet. "Alright," he said, "let's see what you've got."
The next few weeks followed the same rhythm: small adjustments, long nights at the factory, and endless scrutiny from the team. Yet slowly, Lewis began to engage with Y/N more directly. He asked questions about her decisions, and each time, she gave him answers that weren’t just technical but instinctive. He respected that. Y/N wasn’t just relying on data; she was thinking like a racer.
As the season progressed, Mercedes clawed their way back into the championship battle, and Y/N’s innovations became a key part of their strategy. It wasn’t just about shaving tenths off lap times anymore—it was about predicting tire wear, nailing pit strategies, and getting the upper hand in wheel-to-wheel combat. Lewis trusted her more now, and it showed on the track.
One rainy afternoon in Suzuka, Lewis stood by her desk before qualifying. The rain poured down outside, the sky dark and menacing. Y/N was reviewing wet weather data, trying to determine the best tire compound for the unpredictable conditions.
Lewis leaned against the desk, crossing his arms. "What do you think?" he asked, glancing at the radar.
Y/N bit her lip, considering her options. "If the rain eases up by Q3, we could risk slicks. It’s a gamble, but you’d have the advantage on the straights while everyone else is still on intermediates. But if the rain doesn't stop—"
"—I’ll be sliding off the track," Lewis finished, a small grin tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"Exactly," Y/N said, smiling back. "But you’ve pulled off crazier things."
He chuckled, then his expression turned serious. "I trust you. Call it."
Y/N blinked, surprised by the weight of his words. For the first time, it wasn’t just about the data or the adjustments. It was about trust, the foundation of every great driver-engineer relationship. And now, she had earned his.
She nodded, standing a little taller. "Let’s go with slicks."
Lewis grinned, and for the first time since they’d started working together, he reached out, clapping her on the shoulder. "You’re a hell of an engineer, Y/N."
As he walked away to prepare for qualifying, Y/N watched him go, feeling a surge of pride. It had taken time, but she had proven herself. She wasn’t just the youngest or the first woman in her position anymore.
She was part of the team.
