Breaking the Grid

Past

I sink into the couch, stretching my legs out in front of me, and glance toward the door just in time to see Kyra standing there. She gives me one of her small, knowing smiles, the kind that says behave yourself, before she waves and disappears into the hallway. The door clicks shut behind her, leaving me alone with the chaos of the upcoming broadcast.

I sigh, shaking my head as I pull the headphones over my ears, adjusting them to sit comfortably. The familiar weight settles over me, blocking out the faint noises from the street outside. In front of me, the two producers are watching me closely, their expressions half-amused, half-expectant.

"Alright," one of them, Jack, starts, grinning at me. "In about twenty seconds, we're live."

His co-host, Ryan, leans forward, adjusting his mic and nodding toward me. "And you're the one doing the intro, Becks."

I blink. "What?" My hand freezes midair as I was about to take a sip from my water bottle.

Jack laughs. "You heard me."

"You guys know I hate doing this," I groan, shifting in my seat.

Ryan smirks. "Exactly why we made you do it."

I glance between them, unimpressed, but they just grin back like two kids who know they've successfully pulled off a prank. 

Before I can complain any further, the soft hum of the intro music begins in my ears, cueing me in. I inhale, sit up straighter, and—like flipping a switch—slip into my professional voice.

I swear under my breath. Five seconds later, we're live.

"Alright, alright," I mutter, straightening up and clearing my throat as I hear the cue in my ear. Then, with practiced ease, my voice slips into something more relaxed, something a little smoother.

"Hey everyone, it's Blair Becks, Formula 1 driver, and today we've got a good one for you. " I shoot a look at Jack and Ryan, who both chuckle—"coming to you live from my very own home. Don't say I never let anyone in."

Ryan snorts. "Yeah, and the security at the entrance almost had us thrown out. Pretty sure your dog liked us more than your guards did."

I grin. "Well, I do have good security."

Jack leans into the mic. "She's not kidding. But hey, Blair, first of all, thanks for letting us do this at your place. You don't really do these, so we feel honored."

I shrug, leaning back against the couch. "What can I say? I was feeling generous today."

Ryan laughs. "Or someone made you do it."

I smirk, but say nothing. Instead, I glance at the rundown in front of me.

"Alright, let's get into it," I say, shifting gears. "We've got a lot to talk about—races, rivalries, and maybe even some unfiltered behind-the-scenes stuff."

Jack grins. "Let's start with the obvious—you finished your rookie season in F1, and let's be honest, it was wild. So, Blair, first season done. How does it feel?"

I let out a short laugh, leaning back. "For a first season? Honestly, amazing." I pause, shaking my head before smirking. "No, actually, let me correct that. It was chaos, exhausting, and terrifying at times. But... I loved every second of it."

Ryan tilts his head. "Even the accident?"

For a second, I hesitate. The memory flickers in my mind—the impact, the smoke, the way my heart had slammed against my ribs when everything stopped. But instead of dwelling on it, I just shrug. "Well, maybe not that second."