Lights Out • 1 • Formula One ✔️

Chapter 1

Barcelona testing was over before I knew it. The excitement and anticipation of finally starting my career as a formula one driver was high. I couldn't be more eager for the first race in Australia, and then all of those which would follow in hopefully a successful start to my first season. The car had been shown to have fantastic pace over the course of the testing week, keeping up with the Red Bulls, which was a pleasant surprise. The team had hoped to keep, as a minimum, on par with the top teams after the high of finishing fourth the previous season, only a mere fifteen points behind Red Bull. My teammate, Esteban Ocon, was only marginally quicker than me - a shock considering my experience levels compared to his. The statistics and data certainly boosted my confidence, along with the rest of the team's, that both of our cars had the potential to be competitive this season.

Nobody really knew my name whenever I wandered the track and paddock. My Force India shirt was inconspicuous. It had allowed me to hear little snippets of buzz and gossip amongst other teams: 'Who is A?'; 'He's showing a lot of pace already which is worrying'; 'A is definitely going to be a threat'. Not all of the comments had given me as much of a spur because there was also some negativity. I had learned to brush off and not dwell on anything that would make me doubt my ability.

One thing I had been looking forward to throughout testing was the party scheduled for after testing. It was for all the teams to attend, including drivers, so it wasn't going to be suspicious when I attended it this evening. Esteban is forcing me to go with him for the car journey, much to my dismay. His reasoning being that it would get people used to the idea of seeing us together as friends rather than them getting suspicious of my career. Whilst he did make some sense (something I knew to be a rare occurrence), my usual cover story that I was a strategist for A usually was enough. Technically, I'd also have the excuse that I'm related to a team member, however my stepmum and I weren't overly close anymore and she's also one of the strategists for our closest rival team, Red Bull. My stepmum had been working at Red Bull for the past two years and I made her promise to say nothing incriminating about me to any of her team members.

"Knock, knock." Esteban poked his head around the frame of my hotel room's bedroom door, snapping me from my daydream. His voice made me jump but I tried to keep it suppressed by playing it off as me accidentally touching my straighteners. I had just about finished straightening my usually unruly curls when he appeared.

I stopped and turned to look at him, noticing his pale pink tie and black suit. "You do know that saying 'knock, knock' defeats the point of actually knocking? Your hand works just fine." I exhaled softly in amusement at his expression. Spinning back to face my mirror, I turned my attention back onto my hair and dragged the last few strands through the heated utensil.

"Where's the fun in that?" Even in my peripheral vision, I spotted Esteban's wide, goofy grin. He strode into my room and sat down at the end of my bed, just behind the stool I was sat on. "Are you almost ready?"

I hummed in confirmation, finally turning my straighteners off. "I just need to change into my dress," I told him, pointing at the large black holder that was situated on my bed. Esteban had been eyeing it wearily since he sat down. I stood up and kicked the wheeled stool underneath the desk so that I could access the garment more easily.

"Please tell me it's not pink, or a dead body."

"Don't worry, it's just a black dress. No pink." I held my tongue to suppress my laughter at how relieved he looked. "Why so worried?"

"I saw the dresses Kudzai had been looking at for you and all of them were a disgusting shade of pink. You would have looked like a tacky flamingo. I don't know how I fell in love with a woman with such bad taste for other people's clothing." Esteban seemed to shudder at the thought of me in the dress, or maybe it was the fact that his girlfriend could only really dress herself well.