🏎 Melbourne Grand Prix Circuit, Australia🏎
Alessandro's POV
"Left. Right. Up. Down. Left. Down. Right," Aaron's monotonous tone was putting me to sleep as we did our reflex drills.
"Mate, have some enthusiasm," I huffed, straightening my back.
"How bout we do your drills outside in the paddock? Maybe the fans will give you enough enthusiasm," he suggested.
"Now you're talking," I grinned.
"What's got you in such a good mood?" my trainer asked, raising a brow in suspicion.
"We're in Australia, why wouldn't I be in a good mood?"
Melbourne, Australia.
Damn did I love this place. With more than 420,000 spectators, the energy was incredible.
"Hm, I fee like it's more than that," he mused, a thoughtful expression on his face. "Remind me, when did Dakota get here?"
"Oh fuck off," I muttered, stepping on the back of his shoe as we exited the garage.
I shook my head as his laughter rang out over the chatter in the pitlane.
I had arrived earlier than usual at the track with Charles for the Melbourne Walk. Albert Park had a unique set up for the race weekend and fans were allowed to interact with the teams, as well as us drivers on their way to the track.
Charles and I spent a good hour doing the walk and I think my hand was about to fall off my wrist from the amount of autographs I'd signed.
I never realized the full extent of my fanbase until this weekend. It made me realize that I just might be as popular as the prince himself, Charles Marc Hervé Perceval Leclerc.
Jesus that's a mouthful.
I sent Dakota a quick text, letting her know how popular I was. She responded with a playfully annoyed text that said something along the lines of "If i wanted to kill myself I'd climb your ego and jump to your IQ."
Typical Kota, always the charmer.
I turned my head as a loud cheer erupted from the crowd. Of course, the home favorite Daniel Ricciardo was waving to the crowd from his garage. He was the only one out of the 20 drivers who was Australian, unlike the plethora of British and German drivers on the grid.
"Alessandro!" a voice called from the grandstands as I pulled my race suit over my shoulders.
I squinted as the sun glared into my eyes and waved in the direction of the voice. Aaron chuckled, shaking his head as the fans cheered in excitement.
"I cannot believe they're obsessed with you, of all people."
"Don't be rude, Matthews," I scorned teasingly, prompting Aaron to flip me off discreetly.
Time seemed to fly by because after what felt like a few moments, I found myself sitting in the car and waiting for the back markers to line up after the formation lap.
E>"Radio check?"
A>"Loud and clear."
E>"Final two approaching grid slots... lights out in 5."
The low hum of the cars filled my ears as I held my breath, waiting for the five lights to go out.
I could see Charles ahead to my left, slightly ahead of me and behind me was the RedBull of Max Verstappen.
A single breath left my lips, fogging my visor momentarily. When it cleared, the final light went out.
My foot slammed on the throttle, lurching the car forward.
I could see Charles already pulling away and closing the door on me as we approached the first chicane.
My eyes flitted to the right mirror, spotting the RedBull looming behind me.
Not today, Verstappen. Not today.
The sun was beating down on the cars as laps went by. As evening approached, the angle of the sunlight began to bother my vision as it slanted directly into my visor.
A>"How many laps to go?"
A crackled voice came through the radio. I frowned, pressing the radio button again on the radio.
A>"How many laps remaining?"
More radio static.
Shit.
E>"Twenty-t- remain-"
A>"Twenty-two?"
E>"-opy."
A>"What's the gap?"
E>"Gap to Cha- .29"
I frowned. That didn't seem right. .29 would be in overtaking distance and I was way too far to be under a second away from my teammate. I could see his red Ferrari curving around the turn a few hundred meters ahead of me.
A>"Radio check?"
E>"Check? Can y- hear me?"
A>"Negative. It's cutting out."
E>"Copy, we are che-"
Adami never got to finish his sentence as the radio completely fizzled out. An irritating buzz was all I could hear, prompting me to turn off the radio all together.
It was just me and the car now.
Just my fucking luck.
As I came around the final corner and on to the straight, my eyes searched for the pit board hung agains the wall by my team.
Sure enough, a black board with MOR +1.29 in red was sticking out by the Ferrari pit wall. Directly under it was BOX +1.
I nodded to myself and hit the confirm button in hopes that they could see my acknowledgment on the computer screens.
Ahead of me, Charles darted into the pitlane, which left me in the lead.
"Okay Alessandro, you can win this. Let's go," I muttered to myself.
Max's RedBull was far off in the distance and well over 5 seconds behind me. One less thing to worry about.
However, when I glanced in my mirrors again, I realized that he was no longer trundling along behind me.
What the fuck happened to Verstappen?
I tried looking at the TV screens facing the grandstands, but I couldn't see any indication of what had happened to the Dutchman.
Whatever it was, it wasn't my problem. His loss was my gain.
The next time I came through the last corner, I darted into the pit lane to change my tires.
There was still no communication between the team and I, but it didn't seem to be causing too many issues just yet.
I came out behind Russel in P4.
Another 8 laps went by and I managed to overtake Russel and Perez within those few laps.
Now I was back behind Charles yet again.
From the timing chart on the giant TV, I could make out a purple flag by the name in second place, which happened to be me. That purple flag meant I was currently holding fastest lap.
From the information on the dash, I was purple in the final sector and improving.
That gave me the confidence to keep pushing as I inched closer and closer to my teammate in P1.
Dakota's POV
D>"Carlos, you're doing amazing. Currently P6. Gap to Lando P5, 1.5"
C>"Copy. Starting to see some graining on the left front."
D>"Alright, easy on the kerbs."
I hummed in content to myself as the atmosphere in the garage was one of relief. The cars were finally improving and looked to be in much better shape than the previous two races.
Lando was doing well and had few complaints, as did Carlos.
Zak seemed to be quite pleased with the progress as he milled about between the garage and the pitwall with a small smile on his face.
I felt as though the weight had been lifted off my shoulders. The work Ivan and I had put in to the cars was paying off, both cars running in the top 10.
Sure there was only 18 cars running after Seb and Max had DNF'd, but it was still improvement.
"Looks like we're going to get a Ferrari battle," Ivan pointed, gesturing to the TV screen in the garage.
My attention shifted just in time to see one of the Ferrari's send it up the inside line of the other.
Alessandro, always the dare devil.
I hid a smile as he overtook Charles in the fourth DRS zone with the added speed advantage. With the new cars, it was easy to overtake, but staying ahead was the difficult part.
With only 3 laps remaining, Charles wasn't going to let that first place finish go. He immediately appeared right along side Alessandro, trying to over take him. But Alessandro already knew all of his tactics.
He studied his teammates race craft meticulously. He knew exactly what game Charles was playing. Alessandro wasn't a fool to fall for his tricks.
He knew Charles was waiting for Alessandro to take the bait with the DRS zones, only to make it easier for Charles to overtake him in the next sector. But Alessandro knew better.
The fans were on the edge of their seats as both Ferrari's slowed down significantly. They were both trying to hold each other up and force the other into the DRS zone first.
Alessandro seemed to get fed up of the you go first behavior and suddenly picked up speed. It took Charles by surprise and he seemed to scramble to get on the throttle.
The gasp was audible throughout the paddock and the grandstands as Charles suddenly lost control of the car and went sliding off the track. His Ferrari came to a halt in the gravel trap, rear wheels spinning uselessly.
L>"Fuck. I can't get it moving. I'm sorry guys, the car is beached."
I couldn't help but feel sorry for Charles, the frustration evident in his voice.
But Alessandro didn't give two fucks about his teammate in that moment.
He was winning the Grand Prix.
C>"Alessandro Moreno keeping up Ferrari's happy hunting grounds here in Australia. His second career win in Formula 1, Alessandro Moreno wins the Australian Grand Prix! He crosses the line and takes the fastest lap of the race, as well as Driver of the Day!"
I couldn't help but smile as his radio was broadcast.
A>"Let's fucking gooooo! I can't hear anything on the radio but thank you guys, great job this weekend."
That explained the silence on his radio channel, it was broken. It also explained why the team could do nothing to stop Charles and Alessandro from racing each other on track. I wondered for a moment if he would get a reprimand from Mattia for causing Charles to go off track.
Alessandro knew how to play mind games. He didn't do it often, but when he did, he did it well. And today, his teammate fell victim to his tricks.
"Landoooo P5!" I grinned, patting his helmet as he finished getting weighed.
"Fuck yeah baby, whoohoo!" he grinned, his eyes sparkling with childish excitement.
"Carlos, ¿cómo estuvo eso (How was that?)" I asked, giving him a quick hug.
"Much better, gracias," he smiled, patting my shoulder.
A happy sigh left my lips as I walked towards the podium. A sea of spectators flooded the start finish straight, all of them making their way down to see the podium celebrations. It had been a while since I had seen a crowd that large, but it filled me with a buzz of energy.
Carlos was happy, Lando was happy, Zak was happy, and there was no doubt that Alessandro was happy. That meant I was happy as well.
Everything was going well and I couldn't be more grateful.
"Are you going to be in trouble?" I asked, wrapping my arms around him as he came backstage behind the podiums.
"Maybe, but I don't care. My radio was broken," he muttered, kissing my head.
His suit was all sticky from the champagne and the bottle in his hand was sliding out of his grasp.
He set the trophy down on the ground and tipped my head up slightly. Raising the bottle to my lips, he let me have a taste of the sweet champagne.
Even though it was nice and cooling, I pretended to gagged.
"I've been poisoned by the enemy," I joked, pointing to the Ferrari branded champagne.
"Oh please," he rolled his eyes, an amused expression on his face.
"All jokes aside, I'm so proud of you," I grinned, squeezing his free hand.
Alessandro smiled, his dimples making an appearance as his green eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Come, they're waiting for me down there," he said, gently nudging my back. Picking up the trophy, we walked towards the stairs that led down to the pitlane.
Suddenly I became aware of how exposed we were. I glanced around, panic rising in my chest.
If someone had seen our interaction, we were both fucked.
Thankfully, there was only a few people working on cleaning up the confetti and they all seemed too focused on other things to have noticed.
I made a mental note to ask Alessandro if he had told the team about our relationship.
Because if he hadn't, there was too much at risk to slip up.
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