⌞ the chain ⌝

⌞ forty-one : lessons ⌝

"Aye aye, captain."

_

It was the last few laps. I just had to get through this and find a way to move past Jem and it would be home free. Charlie was behind me and god, he was being aggressive about everything. Which I had expected but damn, he was not playing around. He wanted me gone. And I think I respected him a bit more because of it. He wasn't going to let me just have it and that's exactly what I wanted. I just didn't expect it. It was throwing me off a bit. I was nothing out here to him.

"That's because you are nothing."

I blinked and suddenly my father was standing in front of me. The smell of alcohol filled my senses. I could see the red in his eyes and the bags that hung a deeper purple below them. My hands were shaking in front of me as I twisted my fingers, trying to keep myself steady. I couldn't show fear. Showing fear gave him a reason to at worse. He wasn't looking for an excuse, a reason to make it more than just a lecture.

"Father-"

"No. Enough, Eilulia. This is not your dream, it's your brothers. The only reason we let you do this is so Charles can have competition, not so you can live out some blind fantasy that Jules has put in your head. You're not a driver, you're not a racer. You're nothing."

"Dad..."

"Enough of this. Get out of my face and if you do this again. This.. this blind showing off to prove you're something, there will be worse consequences than a grounding."

"Yes sir..."

_

"Lu!! Jesus fuck- get your head back in the race. What the hell are you doing in there?"

I blinked and I was in my car. I could feel the tears running down my face under the helmet. Shit, shit, shit. The race. I was in the race. I looked up to see that I had fallen. Bad. There were at least seven cars ahead of me and there couldn't be more than five laps left. There was no way I was going to even get close to the podium. What the hell happened to me?

"Sorry, sorry. I'm here, I'm here."

"Well, get the fuck back in this. Do you want to lose?"

"No."

"That's what I thought. Focus, you're better than all of these kids anyways."

I nodded and I clicked the radio button off. If I was to get back in this, I needed me and the car. Nothing more. The car would always be there for me, I didn't need anything else. It was a piece of perfectly designed machinery. It would always perform if I could focus and do what I was supposed to. One car down into the first turn and the second in the straight. I could almost see Damon's little fist pump.

It was the car that moved like lightning and I was there to ride it like I was some Greek hero. Quick around the turns, faster in the straights, a miracle of engineering and the pilot that knew it like the back of her hand. That was another car down and I could see George. Part of me would be okay with P4, that was a great place to start. But I wasn't here to just be great. I was here to be better. I was here to prove something. To that stupid little voice in the back of my head that sounded like my father.

George was there. In front of me defending like his life depended on it. And god, I was not about to let him win. Not here, not now. Two laps to get ahead. To touch the podium. To be something worth mentioning. To be a name. To be an icon. And it was right there for me.

"Lu, don't overthink it."

"Damon, shut the fuck up and let me drive!"

I heard him snort and then the radio went quiet. I had this. I was better than George. Not just in stats but in the moment. He was a raver and I was a driver. I had the world. I had the track. I had it all right under me if I could just see that line. What would get me around him, take a fastest lap, get something for fucks sake. Just a lap. Just a corner. Just a second. That's all I needed.

And there it was, the final lap flag. And I was still behind fucking Russell. I needed to get my head in the game. If I hadn't lost my shit in the moment, I would have been cruising in P1, not worrying about a damn thing minus the stupid shit Jem would be saying to me on the podium and whatever headline came out of me winning. But no. I was in P4 and Russell was making it nearly impossible.

Three turns. Three turns to do something.

But then there was Damon in the back of my head. Drive smart, not reckless. You can win without putting yourself in danger. There's always another way. And I felt myself back off. I could settle for great, I could settle for good. I could settle for a learning experience and figuring out what this meant for me, right? Why I had heard my dad, why I had that flashback of all things. It hadn't happened before. I had raced almost an entire season and that had never happened. I had been good, I had been okay. But now.. was it the crash? Racing again Charlie?

No. No, that would be giving in. I couldn't give up. Fuck safe, fuck smart. I was driver. I knew my way through. I didn't have to do what was expected, what made sense. This was my fucking car in my fucking race. And my foot hit the floor. I had half a sector left. Bigger moves had been made in less time. I was the next legend, as Lewis liked to say. I was making my own way.

And it still wasn't enough. The flag fell, George in front of me.

"Not a bad start, that's P4-"

"FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!" I slammed my hands against the steering wheel as I made my way back to the pitlane.

"Lu-"

"J'EMMERDE CETTE COURSE, J'EMMERDE CETTE VOITURE, J'EMMERDE CHARLIE, J'EMMERDE MON PÈRE, J'EMMERDE!"
(Fuck this race, fuck this car, fuck Charlie, fuck my dad, fuck.)

"Eilulia! Language. Calm down, Sebastian. Jesus, kid."

I forced myself to take a breath. Part of me was pulled back to reality by Damon calling me Seb, it caused a small smile to pull on my face as I steered into the pitlane. My entire body was shaking with rage. But this was my fault. I had hesitated, I hadn't trusted myself and it landed me just a step away from the podium. Never again.

I stopped the car and pulled myself out. I could sense the cameras before I even saw them. But I didn't stop, I pushed past the team and the cameras, past Damon. I needed the silence of my driver room. I needed the space to have emotions without being called a hysterical woman. I already knew that was going to happen because of my radio. And it was already something I regretted. But it was a heat of the moment kinda thing.

I slammed the door closed and ripped my helmet off, throwing it at the wall. "Fuck!"

"You know, we all have bad days."

I looked up to see Damon leaning against the doorframe, a sad smile on his face. I knew what that look was. Pity. I couldn't stand it. I had just fucked up my first race in F2 and it had been because of a stupid fear I didn't even realize I had. I felt like a kid.

"Yeah, I know."

"Do you wanna talk about what happened out there?"

I sighed, shaking my head as I flopped back onto the couch. My hands ran through my hair, pushing the sweat soaked strands away from my face as I tried to force myself to breathe. "Not today."

"Tomorrow then. We talk, we plan, we move forward and win the next one. Yeah, kid?"

"Yeah."

"Good." He held his hand out for me. "Now, let's go look like we're happy for Jem and your brother. At least maybe we don't have to act for George?"

I snorted, taking his hand and letting him pull me to my feet. I still felt like jello but as I pulled my race suit down, tying it across my waist. I could feel like it wasn't so hard to breathe again. The world didn't seem like it was going to end. I wasn't a complete failure. That was just the truth of it all. I had an off day. There would be better ones. A lesson. Take it and make it better.

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a/n: we're back guys. how is everyone feeling? how is the new year going for ya? good, good. glad to hear it. but as i did tell you before, this is going to be angst. im not sorry, you knew what you were getting into. and maybe they'll be some twin content in the next chapter... i promise nothing. as always, love it or don't :p