🏎 Emilia Romagna Grand Prix - Bologna, Italy🏎
Dakota's POV
"Morning, Kota," Lando grinned, giving me a fistbump as he entered the paddock.
"Morning, how was the flight?"
"Really nice actually, I slept for most of it," he shrugged, making me laugh.
We were back in Italy for the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix, also known as Imola.
It was a cold and wet week in Bologna, Italy.
Alessandro had mentioned the change in weather, predicting a wet weekend for the race. It would be the first wet race of the season. The clouds were grey and cast a gloomy feeling over the paddock as I walked down to the garage.
Imola included an interesting change in format- it was a Sprint Weekend.
Qualifying had finished on Friday, with Lando setting an amazing lap to get him to P3. Max had won the sprint race yesterday and Alessandro had snagged P2.
It would be quite an interesting race, especially if the rain came down in the final few laps. I was feeling quite good about it because Lando was decent in the rain, as was Carlos. I was just hoping the car could perform as well as the drivers.
I could spot Alessandro's tall figure anywhere, the bright red race suit standing out in the crowd of dark raincoats.
He was giving a pre race interview to a reporter.
Lando in his typical manner decided to scare Alessandro and jumped him from behind, interrupting their conversation.
"You muppet, you look like a walking red flag. Dunno what Kota see's in you," Lando remarked. His eyes widened and he slapped his hand over his mouth.
"Thanks Lando," Alessandro rolled his eyes, playing it off. The reporter didn't seem to notice and seemed to be enjoying the chaotic content the two former teammates were providing.
Alessandro's gaze fell on me and he smiled, making my skin feel warm.
Lando quickly took his spot and the reporter eagerly began to ask him a few questions.
"You look cozy," he said, glancing at the three layers of jackets I was wearing.
"Hey, it's cold," I huffed, crossing my arms.
"Walk with me to the garage?" he asked, tilting his head.
How can I say no to you?
I nodded and was about to turn to walk down the pitlane when a girl approached.
She towered over me, almost at Alessandro's height in a pair of heeled boots. Her long caramel coloured hair was pin straight and tumbled down to her waist.
There was a number of celebrities in the paddock this weekend, some of which I didn't even know. Including this girl who introduced herself in Italian.
"Hi, I'm Vanessa," she smiled coyly, reaching out to shake Alessandro's hand.
I stood stiffly in the corner, refraining from intervening.
"Alessandro, but you knew that already," he smiled.
No doubt his charming smile had her on cloud nine.
"I know that silly," she giggled, rolling her eyes.
I watched their interaction carefully. Alessandro must've felt my gaze because his eyes looked past her shoulder, connecting with mine. He raised a brow to which I shrugged, mockingly twirling my hair.
He stifled a laugh and shook his head. He sent me a wink, making the girl turn in confusion. My heart raced as I turned quickly, pulling my hoodie over my head. A few moments later, I turned back slowly to find that she had returned her attention to Alessandro.
A flare of jealousy ran through me as she placed her hand on his arm. I knew it was all part of the act, the act of being single, but I would be lying if I said it didn't hurt when he placed a hand on the small of her back as they walked towards me.
I sighed, turning my back to them.
I guess he would be walking with her to the Ferrari garage.
~
When I finally made it to the McLaren garage, it was relatively empty. The mechanics were all out on the track, getting the cars ready for the 63 lap race.
I dumped my shit into my cabinet and then took my seat, this time at the pit wall. Zak had insisted I join him there for no apparent reason, but I had a feeling he wanted to evaluate my work ethic. Or some other form of an assessment of my abilities.
I smiled as the camera's zoomed in to show Alessandro's family in the Ferrari garage. A tiny square on the pitwall screen showed the live broadcast, which was proving to be more of a distraction.
Putting on my headphones, I shifted my attention to Carlos.
E>"Radio check?"
C>"Copy."
E>"45 seconds to lights out."
I couldn't help but let my eyes stray to the TV screen displaying the starting grid. My heart skipped a beat, the shiny number 15 glistening on the red Ferrari.
Alessandro's first home race in a Ferrari.
A smile tugged at my lips as I remembered how he excitedly rambled about his P2 finish in the sprint yesterday. I was honestly hoping for a Ferrari win this weekend, Alessandro deserved it.
"Max is pointing his wheels towards you," I mumbled, my eyes trained on the TV.
C>"What?"
E>"Sorry, ignore that."
C>"Okay, do I push first lap or let the tires warm up more?"
E>"You can push, looks like there's more rain on the way."
"Fuck," I muttered to myself.
For a moment I forgot Alessandro was no longer on the other end of the radio.
I could faintly hear the 'it's lights out and away we go! 'through my headphones and forced myself to focus on Carlos.
That proved to be harder than expected as the roar of the crowd sounded throughout the track.
Alessandro had overtaken Max before the first turn.
I grinned, goosebumps rising on my skin. But it quickly turned into a frown.
"Carlos Sainz hits Charles Leclerc and the Ferrari is spun around! Sainz manages to keep going, but the Ferrari is stuck in the gravel! In the Scuderia's home race, Charles Leclerc is out of the Emilia Romagna Grand Prix1!"
C>"Ahh, someone hit me from the back."
E>"We're checking."
I cursed under my breath, scanning the replay as Ivan assessed the car for any damaged. I couldn't see anyone near Carlos in the moments before the touch. It seemed as though he had just lost control of the car.
E>" I don't see any damage on you car for now. Push so we can makeup places."
I didn't get a response from the Spaniard, but he did press the confirm button on his steering wheel.
This was going to be a long race.
Alessandro's POV
I could feel my heart pounding in my chest as I tried to block Max from retaking the lead, but failing as we entered sector 2 of the track.
I had gone wide in turn 4, giving both the RedBulls a chance to gang up on me.
My heart sunk a little as all the progress I had made was washed away before the first lap was even over.
Then, Adami came over the radio to tell me some amazing and absolutely splendid news.
E>"Charles is out. Carlos hit him in sector 1."
A>"Fuck."
E>"Order is Verstappen, you, Norris, Russel."
A>"Where the fuck did Russel come from?"
E>"He had a good start."
"Jesus Christ," I muttered, my visor fogging slightly as I let out a long breath.
The track was slowly starting to dry, but I could see dark grey clouds forming at the far end of the track. I knew those clouds all too well from my childhood days in Italy.
I was in P2, but I knew I was as good as last. Max Verstappen in the wet was a force to reckon with.
Fucking RedBull. That shit sure gave Verstappen wings.
My head felt like it was going through a washing machine down the straight. The car bounced up and down, the porpoising issue still to be sorted out.
I could hardly see where I was going, but what did that matter.
No matter how hard I tried, the RedBull remained out of my grasp. I would get close in the tight and twisty turns, only for him to speed off into the distance on the straight.
E>"Box. Box."
"Thank fuck," I muttered to myself. I was getting frustrated behind Max's car.
E>"Class 0 rain predicted in 15 minutes, but it may just miss the track."
A>"Copy, so we are sticking to plan A?"
E>"Affirm."
"Are you fucking kidding me?" I huffed as Max darted into the pits ahead of me.
So much for a change in scenery.
The racing gods were most definitely mocking me now.
His pitstop was quick, but mine was quicker.
Barely a foot separated the two of us, but we were restrained by the speed limit in the pits.
As soon as we were past the solid white line, it was all to play for. My carl lurched forward and flew past Max into the first turn.
RedBull was fast, but Ferari had better acceleration.
I swear I could hear the crowd cheer when I overtook him into turn 1. The grandstands were a sea of red, some obscured by a cloud of red smoke. Satisfaction spread through my veins when Max's car appeared in my mirrors.
The feeling didn't last for long because Max easily caught up to me in the next lap. There was still another 15 laps remaining, but I couldn't afford to lose the lead.
My family was in the garage watching, hell, all of Italy was watching. And I'll be damned if I settled for anything less than P1.
A>"Where the hell is he gaining?"
E>"Sectors 2 and 3."
A>"I need more straight line speed."
E>'Copy, we are checking."
A>"Check faster!"
E>"Engine mode 9."
I quickly turned the engine dial one to the left, my eyes constantly flickering to my mirrors.
It was no use.
Max had DRS and way better straight line speed. All I could do was watch as he flew past me.
E>"Head down, we can get him back next lap. 10 laps remaining."
I pushed as hard as I could and suddenly we were side by side into Acqua Minerali. Our wheels brushed against each other as I tried to go around the outside. It was a futile attempt because it was Max's corner and I had run out of track to make the overtake.
E>"Patience. Don't take any risks."
A>"Yeah, I got it."
With ever lap that ticked by, my desperation grew.
There was only three laps remaining, but I was bolder than ever. I felt confident. I had figured out how the car was moving and how much I could push it to the limit.
I decided to go for the overtake.
I approached the chicane steaming hot. What I didn't take into account was the raised kerb on the corner of the track.
Such a critical fact had completely slipped my mind.
It was a rookie mistake. A costly one too.
The wheels of my car brushed against ground and moments later, the raised kerb had launched my car off the track.
One second I was driving on the track, and the next second the wall was headed straight for my face full speed.
I could feel the impact of the car hitting the ground again throughout my body. The rear of the car slid out and spun 180 degrees and narrowly missed the wall. It felt like an eternity before I finally managed to get the car going again.
A>"Fuck. I fucked it. The front wing is damaged."
E>"Keep going, you're still in the points."
A>"Shit, mate. I'm sorry guys"
E>"Keep pushing, one lap remaining."
-------------------------------------------
"Al-"
"Not now."
I walked with my head down through the paddock, only stopping to check my weight.
My visor was fogging up with every heated breath I let out. Still, the helmet remained on my face. I shook my head, yanking off my gloves.
I couldn't show my face. I was humiliated.
I had one job.
One fucking job and that was to win.
I was a joke. Everyone was laughing and I could already see the headlines.
Ferrari F1 driver bottles it in final lap desperation.
"Alé!"
"Alé!"
"Alessandro! Slow down will you?" she exclaimed, running to catch up to me.
I grabbed her arm, pushing her into my drivers room.
"There was just one fucking lap left," I spat, tugging at the clasp under my chin.
"I know," she replied calmly, which only made me more upset.
"It's the biggest race of my career and I ruined it!"
"No you didn't, it was a mistake. You're human. We all make mistakes."
"Not like this," I muttered, shaking my head.
"Alé, it was a mistake."
"Fuck, I can't be making stupid mistakes like this!"
"You're right," Dakota replied. "So learn from it. Don't be so greedy next time."
My head snapped to look at her, caught off guard by her words. She gazed back at me her eyes devoid of the sympathetic look that I hated.
"Come, Lando's on the podium. I'm sure he wants to see you."
I was about to protest, but she was already out the door.
Muttering under my breath, I followed after her.
Not even minutes after the podium, I found myself in a sea of Tifosi. The Ferrari supporters were incredible. The amount of passion they had for this team was incomparable.
"This is what I was trying to avoid," I muttered, not in the mood to take photos after a horrendous finish in the race.
Dakota squeezed my hand that was hidden in the crowd of people.
"Take a few photo's. They'll appreciate it. Look, there's a kid there," she said, pointing to my right.
Sure enough, a young boy around 5 was sat on his fathers' shoulders. His hands reached out in my direction, his smile revealing a missing tooth.
Plastering a smile on my face, I approached the crowd barrier.
"Alessandro! Sei il mio pilota preferito (you're my favourite driver)!"
"Grazie," I smiled, signing the team polo he was wearing.
I took off the hat from my head and placed it over his head. The hat dropped over his forehead, nearly covering his eyes.
A look of pure elation crossed his face and it was something I would never forget.
Waving to the fans one last time, I turned to find Kota smiling at me with a look of adoration on her face.
"See. That wasn't so bad, was it?" she whispered.
"I'll let you take a win this time," I mumbled.
"Well at least one of us is a winner today," she smirked.
Although it stung a bit, I couldn't help but hold back a smile.
Lingering at her side for a moment, I gave her a playful glare before moving on to avoid suspicion.