Lights Out • 1 • Formula One ✔️

Press Conference - Post Race, Abu Dhabi

I inhaled through my nose and exhaled the breath through lightly parted lips. The rest of the drivers joining me on the panel seemed rather calm as they chatted amongst themselves, leaving me to pace in front of the large double doors. My thumbs ran over one another, my knuckles aching at the consistent pressure I was applying to them. For some reason, I was more nervous for the press conference than I had been stepping out onto the podium to reveal my identity and receive that first place trophy. I made a conscious decision to stay away from all social media and independent reporting companies until after this session. The high of winning the race was something I wanted to hold for as long as possible before the questions began.

"You look nervous, schatje," Max mused, wrapping an arm around me to stop my pacing. I forced a laugh but leaned into his embrace nonetheless; I need comfort right now. "I can't imagine why."

"Do you reckon I've made a mistake telling people?" I questioned as I looked up at him. He hesitated and clenched his jaw, a tell-tale sign - I had made a mistake. I let out a shaky exhale and covered my face with my hands. "Oh, God, I should've just let you win."

"No, no, no!" Max quickly protested, his grip on my waist getting a little tighter as my body began to nervously shake. "Absolutely not. I know you've done the right thing and waited for the right moment, but I just worry about you, that's all. Who knows how the public will react? I just don't want you getting hurt."

"That's sweet, Max, but it probably would've helped if I hadn't been misleading them since day one." I removed my Force India cap to run a hand through my curly hair.

"Probably," he shrugged, "however you might not have made it to this point being truthful given how sexist this sport is." I didn't know how to respond so instead just let out a groan of frustration and closed my eyes, allowing Max to hug me properly. "So, I take it now is a bad time to tell you that a private question session has been arranged before we begin with the rest of us..."

"What?!" I exclaimed. "Since when?"

Max put his hands up when he noticed my less-than-impressed expression. "Don't shoot me; I'm just the messenger! We'll all be out there with you so it's less of a grill. Just a warning that they haven't had a chance to sensor questions so there's no telling what's going to be asked. You don't need to answer-"

"Max, it's okay." I put a hand up to stop his rambling, my eyes glancing over his shoulder where an official looking lady was leading the drivers onto the stage. I bitter taste formed in my mouth and my heart didn't feel like it was in a good enough state to keep me alive. "You're making me more nervous."

"Sorry, schatje," he quietly apologised.

I shook my head. "It's fine. I'm fine. C'mon," I nodded my head in the direction of the woman. She was looking at us expectantly with her arm to the side, encouraging us to hurry along, "it looks like we're needed."

***

"So," the presenter of the conference began, his beady eyes scanning over the crowds of people. I tried not to focus on what was happening, accidentally distracting myself by staring a little too long at his balding head. "The first round of questions will primarily be directed at driver number seventy. Could you please officially tell us your name, age, and city of birth?"

I cleared my throat, forcing my eyes to glance quickly across the eager faces and apprehensive camera lenses, all poised to pounce at me with questions and flashes. "Hi, uh, my name is Alyssa Archer. I'm nineteen years old," there were a couple of mumbles amongst the people, "and I'm from Bristol, United Kingdom." Once I finished my sentence, a hand gave mine a squeeze under the table. I turned to Lewis and gave him a thankful smile. He was centre of the table, with Max on his other side. Kimi, Valtteri, and Fernando were alongside Max, whilst I had Charles, Seb, and Daniel. Thankfully the Monegasque was at the end of the table and not next to me.