Breaking the Grid

Abu Dhabi

Hi guys, I'm re-posting this chapter because it didn't update everything...

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It's been weeks, and now the final race weekend of the season is here. The last stop: Abu Dhabi.

I sit on the plane, legs stretched out, trying to find some comfort in my seat. Next to me, Alicia is flipping through her tablet, going through my packed schedule. It's overwhelming, but at this point, I'm used to it.

I break off a piece of my protein bar and take a bite, chewing slowly as I glance at her screen. I knew I had to be in Abu Dhabi—both as the next Formula 1 driver and for the media. But now, I'm discovering something new.

"Wait," I say, swallowing my bite. "I have a fashion show tonight?"

Alicia doesn't even look up. "Yes."

I sigh, leaning my head back against the seat.

Milo, sitting next to me, reaches over and tries to steal a piece of my protein bar.

I push Milo back gently as he nudges my arm with his nose, clearly interested in my protein bar.

"God, mate, eat your own food," I mutter, scratching behind his ear before he finally settles down at my feet. Alicia doesn't even react—she's too busy scrolling through her tablet, listing everything I have to do in the next few days.

"Then next week," she continues, "you have a photoshoot with TUMI."

I sigh but nod. TUMI is fine. At least they send me good bags—useful ones, not just flashy stuff I'll never wear.

Alicia barely pauses before adding, "And a video shoot with Lando for Hilton."

I groan, rubbing my forehead.

"And," she finishes, "don't forget, you also have to go to the FIA awards ceremony."

I tilt my head back against the seat and exhale deeply. It's a lot. It always is. I knew stepping into F1 meant more than just racing, but I still hate how much of my time is taken up by media things—photo ops, sponsorships, PR events. It's never-ending.

But then again, I can't complain too much.

I glance down at my outfit—designer sweatpants, a perfectly fitted tee, and a jacket that probably costs more than I want to admit. One thing I do enjoy about all of this? Fashion.

Since I became an F1 driver, brands send me clothes constantly. Prada, Jacquemus, Balenciaga—boxes just show up at my place, and I love it. I always liked fashion, even before racing took over my life, so at least this is one perk I genuinely enjoy.

Still, I'd rather be on track.

I absentmindedly run my hand through Milo's fur, feeling him shift slightly against my leg. He's relaxed, unlike me.

I glance back at Alicia, watching as she taps away at her screen. "You're sure I can't skip at least one of these?"

She finally looks up at me, unimpressed.

"No."

I exhale, stretching my legs out under the seat. "I have to go to the U.S. next week too, after the FIA night," I say casually, taking another bite of my protein bar.

Alicia barely looks up from her tablet. "Why?" she asks, her tone neutral but clearly checking if there's something on my schedule she missed.

"Kyra has an international game there," I reply, chewing slowly. "And I planned an interview too, a show appearance."

She nods, scrolling through my calendar, then sighs and tilts the screen toward me. "You still have a sponsor event in Monaco, though."

I groan, letting my head fall back against the seat. "Alright, call them and say I can't anymore."