Lights Out • 1 • Formula One ✔️

Chapter 33

I'm good. I've got this.

My fingers drummed against the side of the steering wheel as I waited on the grid. Mechanics were still surrounding the car along with various different camera crews trying to get a shot of me sat in the car. Most of the other drivers were standing around their cars, giving interviews, unlike me. I had given Kudzai my statement this morning which she'll pass on to the press, along with a very detailed description of how the dinner went down (those details she didn't include).

This morning I had been on the phone to my brother who was excited to say that he was given back his TV privileges as long as he apologised to the boy he had hit and tidied his room. The apology was rather difficult to obtain, apparently, but he eventually gave it. I promised that I would do my best for him and try and win, to which he said: "I don't want you to win. I want Daniel to win. You can come second though." Thanks Xavier. I wouldn't trade him for the world.

"'A', can a just get a quick statement?" The reporters continued to shout despite Roberts desperate attempts to lead them away.

"Are you fully recovered after Baku's horrific crash?" I gritted my teeth to try and stop myself from telling the reports where they can shove their cameras. I get it's their job, and a very difficult one, but continuously harassing a driver during a period where they need to be focussed can get rather annoying. To try and ease a bit of the flocking, I stuck up my thumb and nodded at the cameras before turning my attention back to the screen of statistics my main engineer handed to me.

My eyes scanned the numbers; the team were expecting a podium finish with the pace we had shown this weekend and at least one safety car by the halfway point. If we're lucky, the safety car won't be because of any of our mistakes but from the misfortune of others. We were also on a one stop strategy. Starting on the ultras rather than the hypers, we should be able to go further into the race than some of the other drivers who were on the light pinks. The team expect that I'll need to pit by lap 40 depending on the tyre degradation, however I may be able to manage 50 if I'm not pushing too hard.

T> 'The tracks about to be cleared. Good luck today.'

A> 'I'll get you the podium I missed out on in Baku, don't worry. We'll get those Red Bulls.'

T> 'That's the spirit!'

Once the track was cleared, the formation lap began. I followed the Mercedes as closely as possible, trying to get my car in full view in Lewis's mirrors. My mirrors, on the other hand, were being swarmed by both a Red Bull and Ferrari. Daniel kept the pace quite slow, allowing time for his tyres to heat and to not let the pack spread out too much. There's nothing worse than waiting for ages on the mark as it overheats the engine and compromises things.

The formation lap was relatively short due to the length of the circuit and despite Daniel keeping the pack together, the wait on the start/finish straight felt like and eternity. Once all of the cars had finally reached their mark, the red lights started to appear. As each little dot flickered on, my heart rate intensified as the adrenaline began to course through my veins. Once all the lights were lit, there was only a matter of moments until-

Lights out.

My reactions felt quick as I launched off the line, Hamilton getting closer to my reach as we entered turn one. Up the hill we began to climb and suddenly I was aware of everything happening behind me. A quick glance in my mirrors and I saw Max trying to squeeze up the inside of Kimi, with Valtteri trying to go around the outside. Ultimately, there was not enough room and none of the drivers seemed to be backing out. In a haze of debris, the cars collided, Max's front wing clipping the back of my car, almost sending me in a spin. Luckily, I kept it under control and stayed on track.