please interact bc i need attention ty
*tw later on*
~***~
My interview was pretty infuriating so I was quite proud to have only sworn on the one occasion. It was no surprise that the main focus of the interview was about the fuck up we made with timing. I had been warned by Toto in advance not to blame anyone in particular since we hadn't come to an agreement on who was to blame. Most of my anger was directed to Esteban, but apparently there was a delay in telling him to speed up when the engineers realised I might not make the flag. Then when asked about why he didn't let me through, he said that there wasn't enough space by the time he realised and then we both would've missed the flag. I didn't know what to believe, so I did as Toto instructed and kept my answer about who was to blame vague: "It doesn't matter who's at fault; the mistake is inexcusable for a team like us and we'll take extra measures to make sure it doesn't happen again."
I had expected Max to be empathetic and perhaps give me a warm cuddle when I returned to our hotel room but that was definitely not the case. That little bastard thought Mercedes making an error was the funniest thing that could ever happen. He would break out into random giggles whenever he saw the tight look on my face, or give a patronising 'aww' and pinch my cheek. I wish I could've smacked that adorable dimple off of his cheek because it made his smile infectious. Max may be irritating sometimes, but he did know how to make me smile.
That night, once he finally settled down with fatigue, Max was a lot more kind. He would press random kisses to the side of my head and hug me from behind whenever we were standing. Max also held my hand during my phone call to Lewis as I ranted for thirty minutes straight about what happened. My teammate was angry, like me, and reassured that he would never let anything like that happen when he eventually returns to the team. He seemed to have the blame pointed slightly towards Esteban Gutierrez, however he did admit that he may have been biased because he wished he was racing this weekend instead. Just talking to Lewis made me wish he was here this weekend.
Max held me against his chest for the entire night. When it got warm, he would kick off the quilt so that he didn't have to let go. He didn't get much choice in the matter because I had a vice-like grip on his arms so he couldn't move. I was never going to take moments like this for granted and wanted him as close as possible. When he held me in his arms, I didn't feel angry anymore, or scared, or worried about what tomorrow might hold. I was content.
I didn't want to get up the following morning but knew that the team wanted me in with plenty of time to spare. The focus after qualifying was on what happened during it so there wasn't much time to prepare for possible race strategies. My engineer still needed to set me targets for my laps, as well as to discuss whether I'll be on a one-stop or two-stop. Being behind both Ferraris was less than ideal, but I still had the advantage over my teammate. From the data collected during the practice sessions, it seemed like Mercedes and Ferrari had a similar race pace so strategy was more than likely going to change depending on what Seb and Charles do.
The time leading up to the race felt agonisingly slow. The tension in the garage was thick, which probably played a part in the endless feeling of the preparation. I continued to ignore Esteban because of the tightness in my chest that I felt whenever I looked at him. The only words I spoke to him happened after the national anthem: "Stay out of my way." I didn't mean to come across as hostile, but I was still very annoyed. The other drivers during the parade earlier in the day had also kept an increased distance from me so as to not confront my stoney face.
When I went to put my helmet on, yet another little note fell out onto the floor. I hurriedly picked it up, feeling my chest swell with warmth before I had even read was on the crisp white paper: 'Don't let what happened yesterday have an impact on your drive. You're an exceptional driver and I know you're going to prove to everyone that you are not to be messed with. I know you're probably anxious about the race because of last year, I saw first hand how you were affected and I wish I could take away that pain. I've got your back no matter what x'.
My immediate take from that was that these notes couldn't possibly be from either Lando or Max; they knew I was anxious and wouldn't need to guess. Who keeps writing these notes?
Once I was settled in my car, waiting for the grid to clear, I kept my head down. My eyes were closed as I visualised the first few corners. If I had a good launch at the start, I could potentially find a way past a Ferrari within the first few corners. Esteban wouldn't dare compromise me, or I'd see to Stoffel replacing him a race early.
T> 'Radio check. Check, check.'
A> 'Yeah, all good on this end.'
T> 'How're you feeling?'
A> 'Ready to get this race over with.'
T> 'Don't feel disheartened, a win is still on the cards, and a podium. You just gotta do what you do best.'
A> 'Copy.'
I wasn't feeling up to much of a conversation with Riki, and the silence that followed made me assume he had picked that up from my responses. Once this weekend is over, I want to just move on and forget this weekend ever happened. My chance at redemption for last year's Baku incident seemed to be slipping out of my fingers. The next race weekend couldn't possibly go any worse than this one... right?
The lights went out for the formation lap and I slotted in behind Charles's Ferrari. I made sure to stay close to his gearbox to let him know that I was going to be aggressive off the line and that he should watch out for me. The pressure would hopefully cause him to make a mistake.
For the entire lap, the team fed me information regarding track temperature and how it's predicted to change, the wind speed into corners, and how my tyres were expected to hold up. I knew that they were hoping to get a minimum of twenty laps out of my tyres so I was going to have to take extra precautions to not lock up my tyres upon entry to any of the corners. On track, I weaved around until my tyres were warmed up to the optimum temperatures to give me the best grip off the mark.
I was breathing heavily through my nose to try and get myself into the calmest state possible. Being jittery on the first lap of a circuit like this was bound to end in a crash. I tried not to let the nerves build as I waited for the rest of the grid to line up. My foot pressed gently on the pedals, causing the engine to rev in anticipation. In my mirrors, I saw my boyfriend's car and couldn't help but smile. I could just picture the scowl on his face that he gets when he's focused. It was still a little weird referring to him as my boyfriend after so long, but it made my heart flutter. All I wanted was for the race to be over so that he can hold me for longer.
One by one, the lights began to light up. The anticipation of lights out hung in the air, a canopy over all of the drivers. We were all in the same mindset with the same goal: improve your position and don't crash doing it. My sights were set on leading the race. A couple of dives up the inside, or a cheeky overtake on a wider line would help me achieve that (and look skilful doing it).
Lights out and away we go.
I released the clutch and sped off the line, upshifting as quickly as my car would allow. My start wasn't spectacular, neither impressive nor poor. It certainly put me on the back foot because Seb seemed to launch off the line, but Charles and Esteban G didn't do amazingly well. Once I got up to speed before the first corner, I was forced to brake early or risk running into the back of Seb. Charles's other Ferrari was on my right, boxing me in so that I couldn't attempt a move around the outside. I trusted him not to turn into me in the first corner and found myself breathing a sigh of relief when we came out unscathed.
My mirrors were filled with the swarm of the field. Max and Esteban O had gotten past Esteban G, with the Racing Point directly behind me with Max weaving into clean air. It was a surprise to make it through the second corner cleanly, too, especially since Charles insisted on sticking to the outside. My wing came close to clipping the inside wall.
*low*
The following straight allowed for me to gain a bit of speed. I shifted up into a higher gear as I closely followed Seb, inching ever closer to the Ferrari ahead. If it wasn't for Charles constantly sticking to my right hand side, I would've made a move around the outside. Seb had the inside tightly covered with his elbows out. Knowing that I needed to get ahead of Charles properly, I risked going a little later on the brakes and turned in. My left front jumped over the inside curve and my line was thrown. The only thing keeping me out of the wall was a quick correction on the steering wheel. Despite losing some of my front wing to the rear wheel of Sebastian's car, I was ahead of Charles so I didn't really care. Adjusting how I turn into a corner because of the small, missing piece of wing shouldn't be too difficult. Track position can play a huge role here.
Seb's exit out of three was poor so I took advantage of it. A quick look in my mirrors told me I was clear to make a move up the inside as Charles was defending from Max. I went late on the brakes again and slipped my car in between the wall and Sebastian's Ferrari, forcing him to take a wider line. It may have been aggressive from my standpoint but it worked. The red Ferraris were still in my mirrors, adamant on chasing me down.
T> 'Keep it clean, Alyssa. We don't want a penalty.'
A> 'Tell them not to hit me, then.'
It was a simple request, something that shouldn't be too hard for Seb and Charles because of their experience in the sport. They should by now know what sections you can overtake on, and where you should just chase. Leading up the castle section, you usually just chase the car ahead. From what I saw in my mirrors, Charles seemed to be eyeing up a move on Seb.
Both Ferraris seemed to get a better exit than me out of turn seven. I hit the entry curb at a weird angle and was therefore compromised with less grip when I pressed back down onto the throttle. There was no way that an overtake was going to happen before the castle section so I drifted across to the right-hand side of the track. To my surprise, the red cars were side-by-side when I looked back at them.
*medium - roc, but detail varies *
I shifted my gaze to the corner ahead. This tight section of track was easy to get wrong so I needed to keep a tight, clean line. I had been prepping my car for entry into the castle so I'd have minimum turning of my car. This would allow me to carry more speed through the section. A jolt hit me as I started to make a left movement with my steering wheel and I suddenly found myself in the barrier. I had instinctively pulled my hands away from the steering wheel the moment I felt the impact, and I was in the wall a blink of an eye later,
A> 'WHAT THE FUCK? WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME. FUCKING IDIOTS. FUCK, FUCK, FUCK!'
T> 'Alyssa, are you okay?'
A> 'I'M IN THE FUCKING BARRIERS. WHAT A LOAD OF BULLSHIT. FUCK THIS RACE!'
T> 'Okay, we hear you. Marshals should be with you soon. There is a traffic jam behind you. Both Ferraris seem to be out as well with damage. We don't know what happened.'
A> 'Well there's a fucking Ferarri up my ass, for one.'
The first thing I did was shut off my engine. Then my rage quickly turned into panic when the buckle of my seatbelt wouldn't come undone. The team were still speaking to me over the radio as I tried not to have a freak out in the cockpit of my car. My mirrors were useless to see what was happening behind me because one was hidden by the barrier and the other had fallen off somewhere. It seemed as if both of the Ferraris managed to hit me... fucking idiots. I unfortunately wouldn't know until I got back to the garage and saw a replay, but that doesn't seem to be happening soon because I can't get out of the car.
Luckily, marshals were on me quickly and seemed to pick up that I couldn't get my seat belts off. All it took was someone else's hands and I was able to pull myself frantically out of the car. It was only then that I realised how much I was trembling. My legs felt like jelly when they finally touched down onto the surface of the track.
Seb and Charles were both out of their cars by the time I had finally gotten out. They were not even looking at each other which further confirmed my suspicions that they may have crashed. I also noticed how the rest of the grid were forced to a halt on track because of how our cars were blocking the road. It was too narrow for anyone to navigate the wreckage without hitting one of our broken cars or a piece of debris that used to belong onto it.
Whilst Charles headed straight for the runoff area where a team of marshals were waiting, Seb approached me. He placed a hand on my shoulder when I tried to walk away, which I firmly shrugged off in annoyance.
"Are you okay?" I barely managed to hear him over the rumbling engines of the cats waiting to pass. I guessed that they'd be instructed to shut them off until our cars are cleared and the track is free to do a restart.
I barely lifted my visor, only allowing a gap big enough so that he could see my scowl. "Don't talk to me when I'm mad."
"Alyssa, you're shaking," he stated. No shit. Although his words might not have suggested it, Seb was definitely mad, too. His visor was low like mine but I saw he wore a similar scowl. His shoulders were unnaturally squared, and he occasionally glared holes into his teammates back as he waited for my response.
"Well, two fucking idiots just crashed me into the wall on a track that I'm really starting to despise," I shot back, arms folding across my chest. I could never control my temper like Seb was controlling his. All I wanted to do was explode. My stomach was twisting with the verge of an anxiety attack, so I forced myself to control my breathing.
"Charles just turned into me on the straight!" He exclaimed. "I'm really fucking sorry." Seb took another step closer and wrapped an arm around my shoulder. My muscles didn't seem to be able to work together for long enough to push Seb away so I let him hold me as we were led off track. His helmet rested against mine, causing me to become aware of his limp.
"Are you hurt?" My heart started to race faster at the idea of another driver ending up injured this season. My eyes widened and my knees were on the brink of just giving up.
Seb shook his head. "It's just a little sore," he rubbed his left leg (the opposite one to me). "That Mercedes car of yours is made of something quite tough."
"Go see a medic," I instructed him, frantically looking around for a medical team of any kind. There was a car waiting behind the barrier; I expected it to take Seb to the medical centre and me to my garage. I helped Seb shift some weight from his bad foot onto me and slowly shuffled forward. When marshals saw he was in pain, they rushed over to our aid.
"You should see one, too," he suggested. "You look like you're in shock."
"It was a low-speed impact because I was braking. I'll be fine."
"Take a bit of time before going back to your team."
I shook my head. "No, I need to talk to them. Someone's going to be reprimanded for what happened.
"Yeah, my teammate," Seb replied, his tone laced with disgust as he spat out his final word with venom. "Honestly, with how aggressive he drives, you'd think he had never driven before!"
"I won't say anything until I see the replays," I told him, "and only then will I judge."
***
"Charles really is fucking stupid." I scoffed and folded my arms across my chest, eyes fixated on the large screen in front of me. At first, I didn't want to rewatch the crash, but I knew that I'd have to if I wanted to make sense of what happened.
As the Ferraris approached the castle corners, Charles went for an overtaking move on Sebastian. He tried to go around the outside of Seb but he had taken the racing like, causing Charles to be squished into the wall. He didn't have any right to make a move like that, mostly because Seb had no obligations to give him room. Charles should've backed off. That way, he would have never pierced Seb's rear wheel, causing the German to lose control of the car and hit into me (with Charles following a moment after). Toto had to join Seb at the medical centre after punching the desk in frustration too hard. I totally got it, wanting to do the same myself.
"Ferrari are trying to argue that you caused the puncture during your contact with Seb on turn three," Riki told me, pausing the video so that I would focus on him.
My mouth opened in shock, and then closed as I clenched my jaw. "That's bullshit!"
"You and I know that, but you need to let the stewards know that when Toto gets back. He'll want to see them as soon as possible before the rest of the grid gets racing again in half an hour."
I flopped backwards into the chair, covering my eyes with the palms of my hands as my fingers gripped my hair. "This just isn't my circuit."
"I'm afraid not, kid. I'm sorry your race ended this way."
"I'm more annoyed at the fact that I'm going to have to control my temper in front of the cameras yet again. Maybe next year I'll get someone to fill in for me here so I don't experience any more disasters."
Riki chuckled. "I'll take your spot for you."
"Dream on," I said after scoffing.
"C'mon, let's go see what damage Toto has done. If that vein hasn't popped in his forehead or if he hasn't broken his hand, I'll be very surprised."
I nodded my head in agreement. "This weekend definitely couldn't have been good for his stress levels."
Riki forced a tight-lipped smile. "It's definitely one to forget."
~***~
Race Result Baku:
P1 VER*, P2 OCO, P3 GUT P4 RIC, P5 NOR, P6 HUL, P7 SAI, P8 ALB, P9 STR, P10 LAT, P11 RAI, P12 RUS, P13 SCH, P14 GRO, P15 KVY, P16 MAG, DNF: ARC, VET, LEC, GAS.
~***~
*not edited*
so this is almost late... but not quite!
writing a race just seemed so difficult considering i wrote one for china. i started writing what had happened for the rest of the race but third person writing just didn't sit well with me so i deleted about seven hundred words ooooooops
who's sending the notes in lys's helmet? has your thoughts changed? let me know who you think!
drama, drama, drama, eh? in the racing season and this chapter! i'm going to say this only once - seb cannot retire for the sake of me maintaining my sanity. i would love for him to go to mercedes, but that doesn't look all too likely. i'm worrying! also fuck carlos sainz lmao. he's a good driver but he's said/done too many things for me to be a fan of his any more. you probs won't be seeing him much in this book but i'll try not to slag him off too much.
who's going to get the blame for that one? i'll focus on writing the results of the stewards for the next chapter so you won't be confused. although you'll probably be mad with the conclusion i've come to :)
new book out! please check it out. it's called 'i love you', and can be found on my profile. this book also inspired me to alter my book covers so sorry if you didn't recognise this book when i uploaded!
i tried to keep them similar to what they had been colour wise just because i liked that aspect. on the note of covers, my cover book will also be opening again so make sure you check it out, too!
qotc: how much have you spent on online shopping this quarantine?
aotc: i'm horrible for it. all together, i've spent over £200 on clothes 😭 the only reason i can afford it is because i'm using the money i has saved for a holiday which i obviously cant go on now (still fuck you corona). hope you're all staying safe and healthy. all my love ❤️