Race Day
Anna's POV
I woke up to someone knocking on my door.
"Anna! Wake up, it's RACE DAY!" George's voice filtered in from the hallway.
I groaned, pulling the covers over my head. "Tell Aston I need five more minutes."
"No can do!" I heard a chorus of footsteps running down the hallway.
The paddock was a whirlwind of media, prep, strategy briefings, and that specific kind of nervous adrenaline only race day could create. Cece handed me my water bottle, and Matthew—my ever-stern engineer—gave me a look that said no distractions today, please.
"You good?" Charles asked as we crossed in the paddock.
"Yeah, think I'll make Seb regret that bet."
He grinned. "I don't doubt it. See you out there."
On the grid, I watched the final checks being done on my car. Helmet on. Heart pounding. Everything faded except the hum of the engine and the calm voice of Matt in my ear.
MC: "Alright Anna. Time to write your story today. Let's go racing."
The lights went out.
And we were off.
Charles darted ahead. Max tucked into the slipstream. I kept tight on the racing line, dancing the car through corners, lap after lap of pure instinct.
In lap 28, Seb and I went wheel-to-wheel in Turn 3, the old-school elbows-out racing that fans lived for. I edged him out.
Final laps. Max and Charles were battling ahead, tires nearly shot. I kept pressure on in third, waiting for a mistake.
Last lap. Charles made a late move on Max. They touched—slightly, but enough—and I swept into second.
The flag waved.
Podium.
I stood next to Max and Charles, soaked in champagne, laughing as Seb clapped from P4. The national anthems played. The fans roared.
That night
Everyone piled into the common room for the post-race wind-down. Chips, drinks, socks on couches, and championship points still hanging in the air like static.
"You looked like a missile through Turn 6," Carlos told Anna, handing her a fizzy drink.
"You looked like a cat with nine lives trying to defend against George," she shot back, grinning.
Max, eyes half-lidded with exhaustion, looked around at the group—his ridiculous, brilliant, chaotic second family.
"You know," he said, "I think we should actually plan a vacation this year."
"A vacation?" Lando repeated like it was a foreign word.
"Yeah. No cars. No racing. Just us."
"Where?" Yuki asked, perked up.
Max smirked. "Anywhere but here."
There was a pause before they all erupted with suggestions—Italy, the Maldives, Tokyo, a road trip through Spain. No matter what, they'd go together.
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The secretive
FanfictionWhat happens when Anna Cela joins the grid ahead of the new season, and is trying to hide a secret from the rest of the grid but are they also hiding something? All F1 drivers in a relationship with the same women, sounds crazy right? Not to these...
