thank you all so much for over 800k reads on the first book of this series, giving us a total that exceeds well over a million on both books combined. i am at a loss for words with how grateful i am for you.
as promised, here's a little early birthday chapter. i'm turning 21 tomorrow (april 1st)! probably won't reply to too many comments for the first 24 hours this chapter is up bc i will be very very drunk.
~***~
Damien emailed my media schedule early Thursday morning, a little later than I would've liked due to him nursing, in his words, 'a killer hangover'. Why he thought it was a good idea to drink the day and night before he had work responsibilities was beyond me. When he showed up at my motor home with a pair of dark sunglasses over his eyes and an overwhelming amount of cologne to try and mask the lingering smell of liquor, I nearly fired him on the spot. Just because he's my friend doesn't mean he gets to act this way - it's unprofessional. My image was a portfolio of myself and those around me, and I didn't want him tarnishing it because of his irresponsible impulses.
Max and I, similarly to most drivers this weekend, opted to stay in motor homes as opposed to hotel rooms. Despite having separate ones, almost all of his belongings were in mine. The only time Max would spend time in his motor home was if he had work to do and didn't want to be disturbed. Because of this, I was able to find out from him that we would be having our main interview together, putting my anxious mind at ease as I waited for Damien to send over the schedule.
This weekend was going to be a pretty big statement for me and Max; it's the first full Grand Prix weekend where we were completely open about our relationship as drivers. We could finally walk to the circuit together without the need for speculation, we didn't need to sneak a quick kiss in private in fear of someone seeing, and we didn't have to make up excuses as to why we're together. This is the first time ever since people realised I was 'A', and I had honestly missed this aspect of our previous poor attempt at a relationship.
My brilliant white Mercedes shirt was a contrast to his deep Red Bull blue one, and I'm sure it made for quite some pictures as we walked hand in hand into the paddock on Thursday. My makeup was natural like my hair, which fell in waves past my shoulders and bounced with my stride. I smiled and waved my free hand to the photographers waiting at the entrance to give off a positive and optimistic vibe. I'm sure Max would've done the same if he wasn't using his other hand to hold a large umbrella to shelter us from the drizzle that fell from the light grey rain clouds. The sun decided that it wasn't going to make an appearance and was forecast to stay obscured for the remainder of the weekend. Goosebumps formed on my exposed arms with every gust of wind however I had made such a big deal about not needing a jacket before leaving that I didn't want to admit I was cold - I'm just too stubborn.
All of the drivers were at the circuit today so it wasn't a surprise to cross paths with some of them. Seb greeted me and Max in his typical cheery fashion, promising a catch-up at some point to discuss our summers. His teammate, Charles, had been in quite the hurry as he was running late for a scheduled interview and so could only give us a quick 'hey' and a wave. Lewis was dressed in a matching shirt to me and only offered words of encouragement. I had been a little but apprehensive about how he would feel being the second driver at Mercedes, however he made an effort to reassure me that he was happy to even race alongside me in my 'championship winning season'. I hope he didn't jinx that. I was surprised when we walked past Lando; he usually avoids our gaze after the incidents of the past couple of months, however this time I could've sworn that his lips curved slightly upwards into a smile. I might've just been imagining it, though, my brain creating something that I wanted to see. Either way, I couldn't stop thinking about it - I missed Lando, and I knew Max did, too.
"Maybe we should invite him over for dinner sometime?" I pondered aloud, my finger tapping against my knee.
"Hm?" Max sat up a little straighter in his chair. I had definitely interrupted his train of thought as we sat in front of the chattering group of reporters, readying for our interview, but he didn't seem to care as he looked over at me with a smile. Click.
"Lando. I said we should invite him over for dinner."
Max pulled his lips to the side. "I think it's too soon."
He had a point. I let out a small sigh, sinking into my chair in a way that allowed for my head to rest against his shoulder. Immediately he responded by leaning his head against mine. Click. "Yeah, I guess you're right."
"We can discuss it more later," as he reached for my hand that was placed on my knee, the cameras clicked once more. Gosh, they were obsessed with taking pictures with us. Max dropped his voice down to a whisper and ensured that the watching crowd would not be able to read his lips, "right now, I'm just trying to figure out a way to talk about the whole Pierre demotion thing without seeming like a dick."
"You're always a dick," I jabbed, laughing softly, "no but seriously, you'll be fine. I mean, I heard you practicing in the mirror this morning and that speech you gave about the team and championships best interest was pretty good. Just maybe drop that spontaneous singing moment you had, yeah? Or don't, it'll be fun to watch again."
Max playfully pushed my shoulder. "Shut up."
"Make me."
"Alright, we're all ready to go," a voice interrupted over the crackling speakers. I broke my gaze with Max to look over the crowd. Closest to us, there was a table with a few laptops set up and a member of staff in charge of controlling the interview. On either side of the table were microphones positioned both towards and away from me and Max. Damien had forgotten to give me a copy of the questions before Max and I walked onto the stage, so I was going in completely unprepared. D had managed to reassure me that he had checked over the questions and that they were all appropriate - I trust him.
The interview started slow with general light-hearted questions about our summer and standard queries about our relationship, and then it suddenly took a turn. "Given the tragic loss of one of your own two years ago at this track," I sucked in a harsh breath through my teeth, "a Formula Two race which you took part in, Alyssa," and I'm well aware of that, "how has that impacted how you've prepared for this race, especially given the poor conditions predicted for this weekend? Do you have any fears?"
"Spiders, puppets, heights," I joked, earning some laughter from the crowd of people before I cleared my throat and sat up a little straighter. My eyes fixed on the young woman who asked the question. Heading into the weekend, I was feeling mixed emotions, and I'm sure a lot of other drivers were too. This circuit was, in many respects, on of my favourites to drive on, however there's no denying the dangers present, most notably at the top of the hill at Raidillon. Max's eyes were focused on me, most likely out of concern for how I would respond. "I don't have fears, I have flutters. I prepare the exact same as I do any other race weekend, although with a much heavier heart. You probably want me to go into more detail but I won't. Max?"
"I'm in full agreement," Max said with a nod of his head. "We race for Anthoine and every other driver who lost their life doing what we do, however the sport is safer now than it has ever been. It's pointless worrying about what could happen out on track this weekend because it's something that could happen anywhere that we race. We'll just do what we do best."
There was a short pause as the interviewer organised her notes, tapping the cards lightly on the table. "Both of you have a change in teammate for the rest of the season - Mercedes welcoming back Sir Lewis Hamilton, and Red Bull opting to promote Alexander Albon from Alpha Tauri to replace Pierre Gasly. Has this changed the team dynamic in any way and are you happy with the pairings?"
I looked over to Max, prompting him to answer first. I knew he wouldn't like such questions, especially considering how the team situation played out. "I wish Pierre nothing but the best back at Alpha Tauri, a team he knows well and where I'm sure he'll be well supported. I like Alex, we get on well. All I can hope is that my teammate can keep up with me if we want to challenge for the championship. I know Alyssa and Lewis will make it extremely hard for us as they're both strong drivers, but we're going to give them a fight."
"Oh no, I'm so scared," I sarcastically replied with a small smile. "But yes, I'm happy to have Lewis back. Obviously I'm missing Stof, but having the experience of a seven-time world champion back within the team is invaluable if we want to win this year. Max is a strong driver, but so am I. Our seasons will be won, or lost, by our teammates."
"Once again, I agree with my championship rival."
***
The interviews for the day dragged on, and I longed for nothing more than to head back to my motor home with Max when the final one ended. There was one thing I had to do before I left the circuit and it didn't matter how much it was raining. A bouquet of pink and white roses was clutched in one hand, the other was hooked loosely in the crook of Pierre's elbow as we ascended the old pit exit. He held the black umbrella that sheltered us from the pattering rain. The smell of rain was mixed with the aroma of earthy, damp soil, something that brought me some comfort in such a difficult time. As much as I would've wanted this moment to be private between us, the cameras of Netflix thought it more important to get a story out of this than let us pay our respects. Luckily, their were no mics on us, and the boom that they carried to capture audio was respectfully held away for the time being.
I remember the race vividly. I remember exactly what gear I had been in when I witnessed the incident in my mirrors, I remember the exact sensation of my heart dropping when the team told me over the radio that it was serious, and I remember the grave looks on everyone's faces when I pulled into the pits with the red flag. I wish I could forget.
What tragically happened to Anthoine Hubert could've happened to any one of us, and it could happen to any one of us. This sport was unforgiving and cruel at the best of times. It didn't care how much talent you had, or how much you were loved on or off the track, or how badly you wanted to win - any race could be your last. Unfortunately, I don't think I really appreciated or understood that fact until Anthoine. With the many leaps and bounds we had made in terms of safety, the worst case scenario was never on my mind. As a driver, I just get in the car and drive without thinking of the consequences.
I placed a comforting hand on Pierre's back as he knelt down near the barrier. The roses I had brought with us were placed neatly against the red and white wall. I now held the umbrella in order to keep us both dry. We hadn't uttered a word to each other since the site had come into view, our conversation fading quickly, replaced by a thick silence. There was nothing to say, in all honesty. Neither of us had the words to express how it feels to be in this situation.
"You know," Pierre began, voice barely audible as the rain hammered against the umbrella, "it took over a year to hear his name and not want to cry. The memories of the man he was make me want to smile instead." I gently squeezed his shoulder in solidarity. When Pierre looked up, I had expected to see a small smile, albeit a sad one, on his lips. Instead, his eyes were filled to the brim with tears, which leaked and rolled down his flushed cheeks. "Do you think he would be disappointed in me?"
"Disappointed?" I asked in surprise. "In you? Of course not, Pear."
"But I was demoted..."
I furrowed my brow and pulled my lips to the side. "Anthoine knew how great of a racer you are, and I know that he would be nothing but encouraging given the circumstances. He'd want you to prove them wrong and make them regret them ever dropping you in the first place. The last thing he would be is disappointed in you."
Pierre sniffled as he wiped away the tears from under his eyes with the heel of his palm. I opened my arms, which he gratefully stepped in to, wrapping his tightly around my waist as he buried his face into my shoulder. I ignored the occasional splash of rain that fell onto my skin as right now my priority wasn't on keeping us dry, it was on giving my friend the comfort he needs. Soothingly, I rubbed circles against the thin fabric of his Alpha Tauri windbreaker. He deserved so much more than this pain.
"Every race weekend since, Cate brings up the dangers of racing," he said, pulling out of the hug so that he could look at me. "I didn't really think twice about what could happen to me, but now I find myself worrying about what would happen to her if I were to have an accident. I mean, she's having my baby. I want my child to have a father."
"And they will," I reassured him. "It's not selfish to want to race, no matter what anyone says. You're a Formula One driver, Pear, it's a part of who you are. Asking you to stop racing is like asking a lion to stop hunting. It's hard, I know, but just think of how proud you're making everyone who loves you. Your son or daughter will want to witness the highs and lows of their father's career, and your determination to continue on through everything is so admirable. I'm proud of you, and they will be too."
"How do you always know what to say?" he tearily asked through soft laughter. "It's really a talent, mon petit navet."
I shrugged my shoulders and returned his smile. "It's what I would want someone to say to me."
Staying with Max meant that I would be taking on a whole new level of responsibility. I would have two people dependant on me to guide them through their mistakes, and I would want them to be proud of the person I was. I knew Max had his doubts and worries about his future in the sport, but he needn't worry. The twins will adore him no matter what because of his resilience and skill, and I can only hope to even share a fraction of that love for it would make it all that much more worth it. God forbid something were to happen to him, things would fall to me. Would I be ready? Probably not, but I'll do my best. I guess that's all I ever can do. When you're me, mistakes are inevitable, however I pride myself in being able to learn from them.
With my lips held between my teeth, I took a step back (although still stayed close enough to share the umbrella) in order to survey the corner. My eyes followed the natural line that cars would take over the crest, and I was very aware of how simple it would be for something to go wrong again as it had done too many times before. It seems that Pierre had the same thoughts I did when he softly spoke up, "this corner should've been changed."
"For a sport so driven on ensuring safety is at the forefront, I'm surprised they haven't at least changed the barrier," I mused. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed the Netflix crew inching closer. They boom that had been held by their sides was now held high, and I'm sure they were eager to capture my thoughts. What I wanted to say wasn't a controversial take, however I knew that it would strike up a conversation when it is heard - that's exactly what I want, so I continued, "I know every corner is dangerous when you're in an F1 car, but this... I don't know, it just feels like a corner which is infamous for being incredibly dangerous should be changed. Just because we're aware of the dangers to our lives every time we climb into the cockpit, doesn't mean that more can't be done in order to minimise these risks."
Pierre's eyes flicked between me and the camera I'm sure was behind me. From the look in his eyes, I knew he had caught on to what I was doing. "Exactly. They could easily put in new barriers to stop cars bouncing across the track after an impact, or adjust the entry or exit of the corner to make an accident less likely. Driving over the top of the hill blind is a thrill as a racer, but I do not like the idea of encountering a car over the crest and not being able to do anything to avoid a collision."
"Even some gravel could improve the safety so much," I added. "The driver in me loves the rush of driving this corner flat out, and I don't want that feeling to go, but I'd much rather drive into the section knowing that I'm highly likely to make it out the other side."
I felt Pierre's fingertips brush against mine, and I instinctively took his hand and held it tight. We huddled closer to each other to the point where our heads were resting against one another. We didn't need to say anything in that moment, but I decided to speak our thoughts,"I just hope everyone stays safe this weekend."
Famous last words.
~***~
*not edited*
this chapter ending definitely isn't foreshadowing anything... when have i ever been that cruel to you before? 😌
as always, leave your thoughts to the chapter throughout. if you forgot to leave anything, girly wtf are you doing? reread it now and leave a comment. don't make me be mean to your favourite characters.
on a serious note, what's going on in ukraine right now is heartbreaking. i stand with ukraine and the people - i encourage you to do the same. it should go without saying that war is not the solution. please help where you can. linked here will be a website with resources.
currently rewatching the 2009 f1 season in its entirety. ngl, it kinda makes me miss the refuelling aspect of f1 races. that whole other level of strategy could win or lose a race and, as you already know, i live for the dramas of f1 so this excites me. i don't think i've spoken about the brawn livery before but omfg its one of my favourites of all time. also, it's crazy how far the graphics have come in such a short period of time. it really makes you appreciate the effort and technology of the new era.
qotc: the 2022 season has started since the last update. i want your predictions for the championship after the first couple of races - who's going to win?
aotc: unless mercedes gets their act together, and tbh even if they do, i reckon it will be a challenge for them to finish the season with their ninth consecutive constructor's championship. i reckon it'll go to ferrari. as for the drivers, my top three prediction is as follows: max verstappen, charles leclerc, carlos sainz. the battle rn between max and charles is just beautiful and i can't wait to see it get better as the season progresses. still, i think max will just pip charles for the championship this year, although it will probably be right down to the wire again.
(i hope i'm wrong and k-mag and haas win the championship)