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25

"last lap, bring it home Em"

I grinned as widely as my constricting helmet would allow, I was turning into the second corner with a comfortable lead between me and Leclerc. All my senses were higtened and it felt truly indescribable. I could make out the roaring of the engine in my ears but it somehow did not register. I only felt the car underneath me and only saw the black beautiful track in front of me. Through what felt like sole dumb luck the entire race has panned out in my favor.

I had qualified fourth but with a gutsy undercut strategy I had fought my way up to second by the thirty-eight lap with only Max in front of me, he however had fumbled and gone onto the wrong tire strategy unleashing me into first when he finally had to pit. He then kept both Leclerc and Russel too busy to attack me by forcing them into driving on the defense, placing all of them in a three way battle for second place.

Max made agressive attempts at passing the scarlet driver and the black mercedes that reflected their bitter rivalry almost ironically well. They- mostly Max and Charles were in a nailbitingly tight championship battle, Charles currently held the lead and it frustrated Max to no end. His attempts at passing were met with equal agression from the other two drivers. The scrap was intense and at times unsportsmanlike, none of them hesitated in pushing one another off track. The frantic battle resulted in them crashing when turning in to turn 14 when Max tried to lunge past on the inside of George whom slammed the door shut, also slamming his car into Max's. Which only left Charles, however the Ferrari was not even close to fast enough to keep up with me on the long straights especially with the lack of downforce the previous contact had left him with.

The damp hairs on my arms and neck stiffened as I passed the finish line, a sense of relief washing over me as I heard the booing of fans. "Atta girl, that's what I'm talking about. Proud to have our girl back" Markus cheered over the radio.

I had no other response than a eardrum busting scream. "Good job kid, well deserved. You have worked so hard for this and we're so proud to call you our driver. Enjoy, you've earned it" Christians voice sounded over the radio.

I cruised around my cool down lap before pulling into the slot marked by the first place sign. Staying seated in the car for a moment, thanking god or whatever high power that had willed me through the race.

I unbuckled my seatbelt with sweaty shaking hands and pushed out of the car, quickly placing the steering wheel by the halo and then not wasting a second before rushing over to the rowdy RedBull mechanics that stood waiting for me by the barriers.

They roared and cheered in pride as I threw myself up and into their awaiting arms. They were all jumping up and down and almost pulled me over the barrier in the process. I felt sticky with sweat and tears but I payed it no mind. My ears were ringing and the mechanics where roughhousing all around me.

After a few celebratory moments I was put back down onto my feet and allowed to walk over to the scale and get weighed. I did not look at the number since I wanted the moment to remain good and happy.

To be hontest I felt a little lost. Unimaginably happy and relived of course but a little lost. I did not know where to go and so for a moment I just allowed myself to stand there and take it all in. I let my gaze sweep over the crowded area and looked to see who would be the third driver and to my surprise I locked gaze with Lance daddy's money Stroll.

I started to head towards him and congratulate him but I did not get far before I was interrupted by a sweaty monégasque clad in red lifting me up into a bone crushing hug. I suppressed the squeak from how tight he squeezed me and eased my arms around his neck in reciprocation.

"Congratulations miss race winner" He snickered into the side of my head before placing me back down. "Thank you mister Ferrari, you weren't too bad yourself"