Test Drive ✓

lap 3: ballet in qualifying day

He grinned. Just faintly. "Glad you're here to translate."

Theo choked on his water. James ran a hand over his face like he was suppressing a prayer.

"Moving on," James said. "Radio protocol stays tight. Strategy comms through Theo. Telemetry insights through Rosie. Let's not get creative."

Rosie's stylus didn't pause. "Creativity's fine. So long as it doesn't spin at Chapel."

Jeongguk tilted his head. "That's funny. I thought you liked chaos."

"I like accuracy," she said, finally looking at him, just once. "And a clean Q3."

That shut him up. Briefly.

James shut the laptop. "Alright. Gloves on in twenty. Let's qualify."

The team stood.

Rosie gathered her tablet, already halfway toward the door.

Jeongguk watched her go in silent, thoughtful.

Theo leaned toward him and whispered, "She's gonna read your throttle traces like tarot cards."

Jeongguk smirked. "Good. Let her."

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The roar of the crowd was muffled from inside the garage, but Rosie could feel it anyway, that low, living hum, like thunder trapped in concrete. The first qualifying session had just gone green, and already the track was crowding with drivers itching to set an early banker lap.

Q1 wasn't about setting records, not yet. It was about staying in the game because the first twenty minutes served as a brutal filter, cutting the slowest five from contention. One misstep like a late brake, a flick of oversteer out of Copse and your session was over. Eliminated. Left to watch from the sidelines as the rest of the grid battled for pole.

Rosie stood behind her console, arms crossed, headset tight, her eyes sweeping over the data stream like it was gospel. She didn't speak. She didn't need to. Theo was already on the line, calm and clipped.

"Alright, Jeongguk, track's live. We're sending you out behind the Alfa. Softs look optimal. Two push laps, reset, then a cooldown."

A brief pause. Then Jeongguk's voice, static-laced and far too casual:

"Copy. Tell her not to faint if I purple all three sectors."

Rosie didn't flinch.

"Noted," Theo replied, and she could practically hear the sheepish wince under his breath.

Out on track, the W14 rolled down the pit lane. Jeongguk's car is the famous low, wide, black and silver glinted under the mid-afternoon sun. Rosie watched his out-lap delta. The tires were warming evenly. Brake temps stabilizing. No vibrations.

Sector 1 lit green.

He took Abbey flat, no lift, car twitching under compression. Farm was smooth, patient but in Village, the rear stepped just half a degree wide under throttle.

"Still dancing on exit," Rosie muttered into her mic, more to herself than anyone else. But Theo heard it. He adjusted his posture, ready to pass the note. She stopped him with a glance.

Let him feel it.

Sector 2. Loop into Aintree. Jeongguk kept the wheel steady, carried speed onto the Wellington Straight. DRS opened with a sharp snap. Green again.

She watched his brake trace into Brooklands, slightly late but just enough to unsettle the rear again then tighter through Luffield. The car hesitated. Rebalanced.