Away We Go • 2 • Formula One

Chapter 56

The build up to the race was hectic. Any free time I had, reporters and media personnel were desperate to try and get my input before the race start. Although I didn't want to, Damien reassured me that it would be beneficial for me to interact with them on my terms rather than the frenzied questions when I'm in need of some peace. I ignored any and all questions relating to the incident between Max and Lando on Thursday by stating that it had nothing to do with me. There was no need to add fuel to the rumours when the main focus of today should be the race.

During the parade, I was told to keep my distance from both Max and Lando by Toto himself. He wasn't one to get involved in drama so didn't want anyone in his team to be, either. I wasn't going to protest because I was grateful for it. I hated drama, too, yet I always seemed to be dragged into it. Instead, I situated myself next to my former teammate, Esteban Ocon. He just so happened to be at the opposite end to Kevin Magnussen, too - a bonus.

"You going for the win later, then?"

"Obviously," I rolled my eyes at Esteban's silly question. "You may be here to lose, but I'm not."

"Nah, that's Williams," Esteban replied with a teasing smile aimed at the British and Canadian drivers standing just beside us. George and Nicky, who must've been listening in to our conversation, both turned around with a frown and quickly tried to protest.

I bit my lips together to try and hold back my smile. Both drivers were listing off the times that they didn't come last in the race, however their performance in qualifying was enough to add salt to their wounds. "The truth hurts, Georgie," I said, shrugging my shoulders innocently, "just suck it up and deal with it. I'll enjoy lapping you both today."

"And here I was, thinking you were the nice one," Nicholas said. He folded his arms dramatically over his chest and jut out his bottom lip in a pout.

"As I said in Baku," George began, gently tapping Nicky with the back of his hand as he looked directly at me, "she thinks she's too good for us now she's at Mercedes. We don't need her, Nicky, baby. Just ignore whatever she says because it'll probably be mean. That negative energy would just bring us down-"

"You can't exactly get any lower," I pointed out, knowing that it would push all of George's buttons in a playful way. Esteban let out a short, loud laugh, and invited me to a high five, which I accepted just to watch George's smile fall even further.

Nicky pulled his lips to the side. "She's got a point."

"Speak for yourself, P-twenty," George shot back.

I adjusted the hat on my head as I casually leaned back against the bar to watch the Williams pair bicker in comfort. The cool breeze as we reached the more exposed part of the circuit ruffled the loose hairs of my braids. Teasing any of the drivers on the grid was always a great way to de-stress and keep my mind off of the race ahead. Keeping up a positive front about myself could be exhausting sometimes, however projecting it onto others seemed so much easier.

"I'm not the enemy here!" Nicky raised his arms up, seemingly done with George's ranting about how great Williams will one day be (maybe). "She is!" He pointed a finger directly at me.

"Woah, woah, woah," I copied Nicky's actions, holding my arms up in protest, "I believe Esteban was the one who started this."

"And?" George raised his eyebrow sassily. ""Let's get into your qualifying, huh? P-three, was it? Pretty poor for Miss Mercedes."

"I have to let others think they stand a chance," I replied with a shrug. "It'll make my win so much sweeter for me, and more sour for everyone else. Just the way I like it. I know you wouldn't know what winning a Formula One race feels like, boys, but it's pretty fucking great." Or at least it used to be. "Isn't that right, 'Steban?"