Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 10

i don't know what day it is anymore but i'm 80% sure it's the weekend so h a v e a c h a p t e r.

***

I brushed away all of my negative thoughts, or at least tried to. When your performance doesn't even seem to improve on the day of qualifying, it's hard to feel motivated or optimistic. It wasn't that I couldn't do it, or that the car couldn't do it, there was just something lacking. I was pushing to the absolute limits but something between my car and myself wasn't in sync with each other. The team were getting as frustrated as I was, and the comments on social media were far from kind.

As I waited in my driver room before I was needed to head out for qualifying, I couldn't help but read through my Twitter. People were mentioning me in many different posts, the majority making fun of my performance. I had scrolled past the hundredth 'her win last race was a fluke', and 'remind me how she got into f1 again? p8 in a mercedes 🤮' when there was a knock on the door. I quickly hid my phone underneath the sleeve of my driver suit, which was folded in my lap, just as the door opened. Riki, my race engineer, stepped in and closed the door behind him.

"You here to give me a pep talk?" I questioned, relaxing my posture as to not seem stressed.

Riki let out a sigh as he took a seat on the bench next to me. "I know you're beating yourself up."

I knew there was no point keeping up the act. Despite not knowing Riki for long, he could read me like a book. He knew when I was pushing too hard, and knew when I still had more to give. Our dynamic was perfect for the racetrack but I just didn't seem to be producing the times. "Well, if you consistently performed badly in each practice session, you would do the same. I'm driving a Mercedes, for fuck's sake! I should be closer than half a second to Lewis."

"No matter what happens in qualifying, we know you can make up places in the race. Last season proved you can make some risky overtakes work. I recognise that you're struggling with the car at the moment, but you'll get used to it - I know you will. Now, put your phone away. I don't want you on any sort of social media until the race weekend is over." When Riki saw I was going to protest, he quickly continued. "Damien can manage your accounts for you. A short break will do you more good than bad so don't be dramatic."

I reluctantly brought my phone out from underneath my sleeve and slapped it down into Riki's outstretched hand. His triumphant smile made me feel a little less bad about giving up my phone. My main worries surrounding the situation were that I wouldn't be able to personally address any accusations or queries that fans of the sport may have. The last thing I need right now is people thinking I'm rude which would damage my reputation even more.

"When do I need to head out in the car?" I asked, my arms remaining folded across my chest.

Riki looked down at his watch and pulled his lips to the side. "There's no harm in getting in now. It'll give us plenty of time for radio checks and to make sure all of the adjustments are suiting you well."

I brushed some of the loose baby hairs back and stood up from my seat, before pulling my suit fully on and securing it. I drew in a large breath through my nose and then exhaled it through slightly parted lips. "Guess I'm ready for whatever position I get."

***

A> 'Seventh? I'm only seventh?'

T> 'Sorry, Lys.'

A> 'No, I'm sorry. This is shit.'