Lights Out • 1 • Formula One ✔️

Chapter 5

I sat in the back of Esteban's car, scrolling through my Instagram feed and eating up the remainder of my data for this month. I couldn't help but search for people talking about the race - more specifically, how they thought I had performed in my first race. I clearly wasn't the only one who was frustrated with the team order to swap Esteban and I around. We were on our way to a team meal to celebrate the first race of the season being relatively successful. It was more than likely an attempt to keep morale high and carry the same positive energy to the next race weekend in Bahrain. I had managed to change earlier in the evening into a cute, checkered skirt and a smart blouse so didn't feel out of place when we had arrived at the restaurant. My old clothes were currently stuffed into a gym bag in the back of Esteban's rented car.

As soon as we pulled up outside, I climbed out of the car. My movements were slow and careful to avoid any risk of flashing people who happened to be walking by. There were a couple of cameras around because there were quite a few recognised faces in the motorsport world who were a part of the Force India team.

An arm linked with mine and I turned my head to see Kudzai attempting to match my walking pace. I slowed down to her speed, settling behind Esteban and his main engineer as they walked and talked ahead. "Have you spoken to Max yet?" She asked. I sighed, shaking my head. I had been meaning to text him ever since the end of the race but didn't know how to congratulate him without seeming patronising.

"What do I say? 'Sorry we beat you'? I don't want to ruin the friendship this early on."

"As much as I would love to see his reaction," she cracked a smile, "that's not a very good opening line. Here - give me your phone." Kudzai didn't wait for my reply and took my phone straight out of my hand. Stupidly, I had allowed her to have a fingerprint saved on my phone meaning she could unlock it without a password (although she did know my password, anyway). When I realised I wouldn't be able to take it back from her until she had finished, I watched anxiously over her shoulder.

'Hey, good drive today. I'm sorry it wasn't for more points but you had a spectacular race. I'm still proud of you (even though you're on the traitor team 😉) x
-Alyssa 😊❤️'

"Are you sure he won't get pissed at that?" I nervously asked, taking my phone back. My eyes continued to scan over the message as the delivery confirmation appeared underneath it. My stomach felt like it was getting heavier and I turned my head to Kudzai as she hesitated to give reassurance.

Kudzai had her lips pulled to the side and a thoughtful look on her face before coming to a conclusion. "Nope! He's a bloke, Lys. They get pissy over anything." She laughed. I couldn't help but smile at the truth behind her statement; men are just as dramatic as they claim women to be. "Esteban almost had a fit because we were out of his 'special' milk when he last spent the night at ours."

"Aw, bless. Sorry about that." I grinned, looking at the Frenchman. He seemed to have noticed us staring as he turned to look at us, confused. Kudzai just shook her head, smiling innocently. Before he could say anything, she had grabbed my arm and lead me into the restaurant. It appeared as if some of the team were starting to enter, which meant that we should probably follow their lead.

"The team booked three tables; I think we're on the far left one." Kudzai pointed at the table in the corner. It was decorated in Force India colours identical to the other two on its right. I quickly counted twelve chairs. Thankfully, only some of the team were coming tonight, otherwise we would've had to book out multiple restaurants to accustom them all. Some had already flown out to Bahrain, some were still at the garage, whilst others were called back to the factory in the UK.