pre-season

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𓈒 🏁 .* ⋆ ۪








"Amaya, for these first few laps, don't think too much about the specs of the car. Just drive your best and we're going to see what final tweaks to make for your driving style."

She heard from inside her helmet, the crackly audio of the intercom right by her ear.

"Okay, I will."

The car started, and she drove out of the Maserati garage into the pit lane, ahead of Colapinto's car as the team began the first testing session of the year.

Trying to calm her nerves, she let out a sigh, the warm air trying to escape through the gaps in her helmet.

As the car neared the end of the pit lane, she applied pressure to the acceleration pad.

It quickened to the pace she had grown to miss over the break - reaching a speed where each blink of an eye meant 20 meters of darkness.














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Amaya Varese followed her teammate out into the post-testing area, where dozens of reporters stood behind velvet rope barriers that separated the crowd and the exhausted drivers.

As she stepped onto the shaded area, she took off her team branded cap, running a hand through her hair.

She tried finding Franco among the throng of drivers, some of whom shot her thumbs ups or encouraging smiles.

Almost instantly as she approached, the roar of the reporters' voices became louder, each one nearly shoving their way to the front to shout their questions her way.

She gave them a polite wave, the urge to just run back inside growing stronger by the second.



"Amaya, any comment on the Maserati car?"

                                      "Varese, thoughts on your performance today?"

"Amaya, over here!"


Their voices overlapped, and she decided to simply walk to the nearest microphone.

"Hey Amaya, congratulations on your debut. What are your thoughts on the car now? Is it on Red Bull's level, do you think?"

۪𝙜𝙤𝙡𝙙𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙜𝙚╰▸ ; oscar piastriWhere stories live. Discover now