Part 14

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In a couple days Sangil flies to Korea, and I fly to Spain. Winter testing has arrived. I'm in my hotel room the first night when I hear a knock at the door. It's Alex.

"Hey Sochi. Did you hear the news?" he asks.

"What news?"

"Williams aren't here."

"What?! Why not?"

"George said the car's not ready."

"Is he here?"

"No, not yet."

"Man. This sucks." Last year the Williams team didn't do well, placing last in the constructors championship. We had hoped they would be better in 2019. Especially for George's sake, this being his rookie season, too. "So you spoke to him? How is he?"

"Upbeat if the media asks, but pissed off, actually. I know he's looking at the future, the big picture. He does have a leg up on other young drivers, being in the Mercedes program, but if this is how the season goes for Williams it will be a long year."

"I know. I hope he can keep his spirits up. And the media will ask the same questions over and over, like they usually do."

"My least favorite part of F1."

I nod in agreement. "I got permission from management to fib."

"Really? I shouldn't be surprised, we all fib, but you mean something different than the common lies, right?"

"I'm going to be agreeing to almost everything they suggest. As if I don't have original thoughts of my own." I pause. "If I can, my temper may get the better of me."

"You don't have a temper."

"Oh, just wait. You run me off the track and the FIA will be bleeping my radio."

Alex laughs. "What are you talking about? You never cuss!"

"This year is a new me."

"The new you sounds horrible." He turns the door handle and is halfway out before he turns around to say, "Many congratulations on your marriage. I hope he knows what he's gotten himself into."

"Shut up!" I exclaim as I shove him out. 

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