annihilation (Charles Leclerc)

twenty five

British Grand Prix Qualifying:

There was never really a strategy when it came to qualifying it's just the process that determines the starting order for the race. We have a limited amount of time to complete as many laps as possible, with the fastest lap time determining their starting position.

Typically, qualifying is held over three sessions, known as Q1, Q2, and Q3. In Q1, all the drivers have a chance to set a lap time, with the slowest drivers being eliminated. In Q2, the remaining drivers have another chance to set a lap time, with the slowest drivers being eliminated again. Finally, in Q3, the remaining drivers compete for pole position, with the fastest driver earning the top starting spot on the grid which will either be Max or I.

Hopefully.

"You're going to the event tonight right?" Max wondered as we were both sat in my drivers room gossiping about our personal lives, or the trauma we shared.

I was best pleased that I managed to avoid Charles during the media day yesterday, for someone that loved me you'd assume he'd reached out.

"Wouldn't miss it, but the dress my stylist picked out is horrendous," I laughed "You may genuinely throw up when you see me."

He raised a brow, "It's pink isn't it?"

I nodded chuckling, despite being accepted back on the team Lorenzo thought it wise for me to still put on the nice girl persona. The one where I wear the dumb clothes, and post the dumb captioned Instagram posts.

Thankfully he doesn't control my Twitter, just every other social media platform.

"You will look beautiful no matter what you wear," he complimented "It will be a good time."

Tonight was the F1 Academy launch, obviously I couldn't miss that as the only female on the grid.

"It will if we do well in quali, if Christians mad the whole damn world is mad." I told Max which was truthful, the other day I'd called Christian dad and I didn't know whether to cry or dig a whole for myself.

"We will, you did incredible in qualifying at the last Grand Prix." Max reminded me, although I did come in fourth on the actual race so I wouldn't say I was proud of my efforts.

Charles carrying me up to the podium for qualifying, usually, there isn't a podium for qualifying just a pat on the back and a couple of 'well dones' but the one time they roll out a podium for qualifying I'm carried up to it, he made a spectacle out of it.

Christian burst in, so much for knocking I could've been damn naked, "Quinn- oh and Max, get into the main garage for the last minute car checks. We need a win this weekend so make sure the car feels good."

I walked out behind them both, pulling my helmet on over my hair which was arguably the most difficult part of the day, "Shit- Quinn go back to the drivers room a second." Max spoke as I continued to pull my helmet on.

"What? Why?" I quizzed, finally securing the helmet on my head and looking around as I held the visor up.

"No, go back now." I'd never heard Max so serious, he was ushering me back and pointing back towards my room, "What the hell?" I asked him, trying to push past and enter the main garage.

I wasn't in the mood for the joking, "Max, I don't know what you're trying to achieve here but qualifying starts in five minutes and I kind of need to get in the car to drive."

Max continued to push me back to the drivers room, "I know, I know but please listen to me."

"Does someone think I'm going to beat them out there today?," I laughed, "You scared Verstappen?"

He chuckled but didn't stop trying to get me back to the drivers room, "I mean always, but you can't- 

Well, it's a good thing I'm smaller than him, I ran past him and out into the garage to see what he was on about, just as I pushed through the doors the engineers were silent.

Max tried to grab my wrist and pull me back but I'd already seen it, and so had the cameras with the rest of the world watching from home, "Red Bull are the only team with no cars out and ready to start Qualifying, a look into their garage and it's not hard to see why." The commentators began.

My car, my number eleven car, "Oh Quinn." Max sighed as I wandered closer to it, the strategists, the engineers, the mechanics, nobody knew what to say.

The camera was zooming in on my car, the previous dark blue colour had been covered in words spray painted red, my car had the words 'Whore' 'Psycho slut' 'Drugged up bitch' on the sides of it.

What the fuck

Not even the commentators knew what to say, everyone was stood in the silence admiring the sight of the car that had been trashed, "Quinn-

"Who did this Christian?" I asked him, blanking the cameras that were listening to every word as they followed the drama.

"We don't know, the car has had the cover on to hide the new upgrades," he replied pulling me closer, "I can see the anger on your face, keep it in Quinn."

"Christian, my fucking car." I pointed to it, I was fuming, I was angry and I had every right to be. Someone's come in and fucked around with my car.

He pulled me so that he would whisper and the cameras wouldn't pick up the audio, the commentators weren't even talking as they wanted to watch my reaction, "Don't fight it, don't shout and don't get mad. That's what they want, you've worked hard to change."

"Christian." I replied harshly.

Christian was firm, he held my arm so tight I could swear it was bruising,"Quinn, if you're going to react you're going to cry and show them vulnerability. If you want this to stop you need to act like a little girl."

And as fucked as the whole situation was, he was right. Whoever did this to me clearly wanted me to start raging and get kicked from formula one again, so, I cried.

I cried for those damn cameras and the whole garage played along perfectly, "Oh Quinn come here." Christian acted, holding his arms out to hug me but turning so the cameras got the good shots of my teary self.

Max's brown were raised, clearly I wasn't giving him the expected reaction either as he came over to hold me also, "I didn't know you'd be this upset, I thought you'd- I don't know break things."

"I want to break everything in this fucking room Max." I murmured to his ear but still played on the act of a sad broken little girl, fuck them.

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quinncarter: at least life wants to fuck me
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