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sargeantposting · 9 months

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ARTICLE: The Florida Man of Formula 1 (2023)

Source: Michael M. Grynbaum, The New York Times Series: F1, 2023

Logan Sargeant, the only American driver in Formula 1, is zipping around the narrow streets of Baku, Azerbaijan, at roughly 200 miles an hour. His head bounces inside the cockpit as a wheel shudders over a rumble strip. It’s hard to hear over the banshee shriek of his V6 engine, carrying three times the horsepower of a run-of-the-mill Porsche Carrera.

Then the noise stops, and Baku vanishes. We’re inside a low-slung brick building nestled in the Oxfordshire countryside. The track, projected onto a CinemaScope-sized wraparound screen, was a mirage, part of a sophisticated training simulator. (F1 rules prohibit driving the real cars between races.) Mr. Sargeant climbs out of a replica driver’s seat wearing athletic pants. He won’t need a fireproof suit until later.

In three weeks’ time, Mr. Sargeant will do this for real: wind whipping his visor, G-forces of up to six times his body weight pressing on his neck, the ever-present threat of a catastrophic crash as he is watched by roughly 70 million people around the world. For now, it’s time for lunch. “Is chili bad for you?” he asks, digging into a bowl at his team’s commissary. “I don’t think it’s that bad.”

Williams Racing, in Grove, England. It was founded in Oxfordshire in the 1970s, but it’s now an American subsidiary: a Manhattan private equity firm, Dorilton Capital, bought the company in 2020 for an estimated $200 million.

F1 teams employ hundreds of employees and spend hundreds of millions of dollars developing the world’s most sophisticated racecars.

Reaching Formula 1, the highest level of international motor sport, is a big step for Mr. Sargeant, 22, a South Florida native who began racing rudimentary cars known as karts at 6 years old and this year joined the Williams Racing team as the first full-time American F1 driver since 2007.

For Formula 1 itself, finding a hometown hero for American fans is a giant leap.

Although it is enormously popular in Europe, F1 struggled for decades to break into the United States. That began to change in 2016, when the sport was purchased for $4.4 billion by the Colorado-based Liberty Media, owned by the cable magnate John Malone. Liberty ramped up its social media — F1 had barely kept a YouTube page — and backed a popular Netflix documentary series, “Drive to Survive.” Once geared toward aging white men, F1 now has a younger and more diverse fan base. American TV viewership is up 220 percent from 2018, and the sport made $2.6 billion in revenue last year.

Still, a subset of F1 devotees complain about what they see as an overemphasis on entertainment and ginned-up drama. Under Liberty, they argue, pure racing is taking a back seat to cheap tricks to reel in casual viewers. And they often use a dirty word for it: Americanization. “It is becoming more and more like Formula Hollywood,” Bernie Ecclestone, the 92-year-old Briton who built F1 into a global business, griped last year. “F1 is being made more and more for the American market.”

The backlash reached a crescendo at last week’s Miami Grand Prix, which was added in 2022 as a showpiece for American fans. In a prizefight-style pre-race ceremony, the rapper LL Cool J introduced the 20 drivers one by one amid swirling smoke and a squad of cheerleaders. Nearby, Will.i.am conducted a live orchestra playing the rap song he recently recorded with Lil Wayne as part of a “global music collaboration” with Formula 1. (The lyrics rhyme “Max Verstappen,” the name of the sport’s top driver, with “your champion.”)

“Pandering to the American audience is killing @F1,” wrote one fan on Twitter, echoing criticism that bubbled up across numerous F1 websites. Even the racers complained: “None of the drivers like it,” groused Lando Norris, a Briton who drives for McLaren. Undeterred, Liberty announced that the bombastic pre-race sequence would be featured at several more grands prix this year.

In the United States, F1 has long been associated with a certain European mystique, most famously, the louche glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix.

In the United States, F1 has long been associated with a certain European mystique. Its drivers race across the Ardennes forest (Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps in Belgium), the plains of Lombardy (Italy’s Autodromo Nazionale di Monza) and, most famously, the louche glamour of the Monaco Grand Prix. The sport’s stateside image could be summed up by the 2006 comedy, “Talladega Nights: The Ballad of Ricky Bobby,” which featured Sacha Baron Cohen as a pretentious French F1 driver named Jean Girard, a snooty Eurotrash foil to Will Ferrell’s macho NASCAR cowboy.

In 2023, F1 can feel a bit more Ricky Bobby than Jean Girard. In Miami, drivers circled a track built in the parking lot of the Dolphins football stadium, past an artificial Monaco-style “harbor”: blue-painted asphalt topped with ersatz yachts. A new Las Vegas race in November will have cars zooming down the Strip past Caesars Palace. Meanwhile, traditional races in France and Germany are gone.

Katy Fairman, a journalist based in Brighton, England, who runs the F1 podcast “Small Torque,” said she was surprised by the spectacle when she attended a race in Austin, Texas. “There were girls with pompoms,” she said. “I remember watching it and thinking, Oh my gosh, this is so different from anything I’d seen F1 do in a long time.”

Ms. Fairman conceded that some Europeans find the American hullabaloo “tacky.” But she added: “When it’s something to do with America, I think Europeans are quite judgmental. I think it’s just a bit of lighthearted fun. You guys like to have a party.”

The arrival of Mr. Sargeant, who grew up about an hour’s drive from the Miami racetrack, has spurred new interest, including a profile and photo shoot in GQ, and he’s happy to play the part. “What’s up America, let’s bring that energy!” he shouted to the cameras after LL Cool J introduced him as “the local boy done good.”

But as with F1, there are growing pains. In Miami, Mr. Sargeant finished last, his race ruined on the first lap when he damaged a front wing. After the checkered flag, he apologized to his team, his voice barely a whisper: “I’m so sorry. I can’t believe it.”

Weeks earlier, in an interview in England, Mr. Sargeant had demurred about the pressure of wearing the stars and stripes. “I try not to get too caught up in the talk of the role of ‘first American,’” he said. “It’s still very early for me, and I have a lot to learn still.”

If Mr. Sargeant doesn’t perform, there are dozens of drivers eager to take his spot. “At the moment,” he said, “I just have to worry about staying here.”

For a globe-trotting athlete, Mr. Sargeant can be soft-spoken and endearingly self-conscious.

‘I just want to get back in the gym.’

Before his tough Miami weekend, Mr. Sargeant was asked how he would celebrate a top 10 finish. “Honestly, it might sound lame, but probably just go back to my house and get in my bed for another night before I go back to London,” he replied. “That’s all I want to do.”

For a wealthy, handsome, globe-trotting athlete, Mr. Sargeant can be soft-spoken and endearingly self-conscious. It’s not unusual for someone who, like a tennis prodigy or Olympian gymnast, has devoted their life since childhood to a sole pursuit.

Mr. Sargeant was 6 when he and his brother Dalton got a kart from their parents for Christmas. “No one in the family was really even that much into racing,” Logan said. “We just picked it up as a hobby, something to do on the weekend.” He began winning junior races around the country — too easily. To reach the next level and pursue Formula 1, he’d have to leave behind his friends and beloved fishing excursions for life on a different continent: “We just needed a higher level of competition, and at the end of the day, that was in Europe.”

Mr. Sargeant left Florida before his 13th birthday, bouncing between Italy, Switzerland and Britain as he raced on the European junior circuit; in 2015, he became the first American to win the Karting World Championship since 1978. “As a kid, it was tough,” he recalled. “Coming from Florida, being outdoors all the time on the water, great weather — it was literally vice versa.” He eventually settled in London, where he spends most days working out with a trainer. “I get away from a race weekend, and I just want to get back in the gym,” he said. “I hate that feeling of leaving slack on the table.”

It is incredibly difficult to nab a seat in Formula 1. Today’s drivers are physical dynamos trained to optimize their reflexes and performance levels down to how well they can withstand jet lag — critical in a sport that this year will include 23 grands prix spread over five continents. F1 teams employ hundreds of employees and spend hundreds of millions of dollars developing the world’s most sophisticated racecars. But it’s ultimately up to the driver to execute.

It also helps to have money. Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion and F1’s only Black driver, is an exception, having grown up on a London council estate. Many F1 competitors are the sons of multimillionaires (and some billionaires) who can bankroll pricey travel and high-tech cars.

Mr. Sargeant falls into the scion category. He hails from a wealthy Florida asphalt shipping family. His uncle, Harry Sargeant III, is a former fighter pilot and onetime finance chair of Florida’s Republican Party who has been sued by the brother-in-law of King Abdullah II of Jordan and whose name turned up, tangentially, in the 2020 impeachment of former President Donald J. Trump. (Harry was not accused of any wrongdoing.)

Logan’s father, Daniel Sargeant, worked alongside Harry until the brothers had a falling out. In a 2013 lawsuit, Harry accused Daniel of misdirecting $6.5 million in corporate funds “for the purpose of advancing the international cart racing activities” of his sons, Logan and Dalton; that litigation was eventually settled.

In 2019, Daniel Sargeant pleaded guilty in federal court in New York to foreign bribery and money laundering charges related to his business dealings abroad. He is free on a $5 million bond and is awaiting sentencing. A Williams spokesman said that Logan Sargeant was not “in a position to comment” on any of the legal matters involving his family.

In F1, none of this particularly stands out. The mother of Mr. Sargeant’s Williams teammate, Alexander Albon, was jailed in Britain for swindling millions of pounds in fraudulent sales of high-end cars. A Russian racer, Nikita Mazepin, was booted from the sport after his oligarch father, a close ally of President Vladimir V. Putin, was sanctioned following the 2022 invasion of Ukraine.

James Vowles, the Williams team principal, said in an interview that he hired Mr. Sargeant for his speed, not his U.S. passport. “I’m incredibly pleased that the sport is growing in America, but I think it would be anything but disingenuous to say that Logan’s here for any other reason than I think he’s got this pure talent,” he said.

In his F1 debut in Bahrain in March, Mr. Sargeant finished 12th, outpacing this year’s two other rookies. “He has this insatiable desire to be better, to want more,” Mr. Vowles said. “He’s a perfectionist, and I like that in him.”

Tooting around in a Vauxhall Astra

Britain, where Formula 1 originated in 1950, remains the sport’s spiritual home, where most of its 10 teams are based. Williams was founded in Oxfordshire in the 1970s, but it’s now an American subsidiary: a Manhattan private equity firm, Dorilton Capital, bought the company in 2020 for an estimated $200 million.

It was an important cash infusion for a team that had struggled to keep up with rivals. Manufacturers like Mercedes-Benz pour enormous resources into their F1 teams, which double as an elaborate global marketing campaign and an in-house innovation farm; tech developed for F1, like engines that recycle braking energy as an accelerant, can trickle into consumer vehicles.

Formula 1 car simulators at the Williams Racing factory.

Formula 1 drivers practice on sophisticated training simulators.

The Williams campus is a humdrum brick pile that could be mistaken for an office park — a far cry from McLaren’s space-age complex an hour’s drive away. Many F1 teams provide their drivers with a high-end sports car for personal use; Mr. Sargeant commutes in a Vauxhall Astra, a compact.

Even the team’s sponsors are relatively down-market; whereas the official watch of Ferrari is Richard Mille (starting price: $60,000), Williams has a deal with Bremont, whose timepieces retail for significantly less. (On a recent visit, a Williams press aide was quick to extract a spare Bremont watch from his pocket and ensure Mr. Sargeant was wearing it whenever a photographer hovered.)

Given the huge costs, corporate partnerships are crucial to F1, part of the reason the American market, with its abundance of affluent consumers and wealthy brands, has proved so tempting. Gerald Donaldson, a journalist who has covered F1 for 45 years, recalled how cars were gradually taken over by corporate logos starting in the late 1960s.

“Marlboro paid all the Ferrari bills, including the drivers, for many years,” he said in an interview. “There are eager companies who want the publicity.” Mr. Sargeant’s car features ads for Michelob Ultra beer and an American financial firm, Stephens. In Miami last weekend, beachgoers spotted an airborne banner reading “Go Logan!” alongside the image of a Duracell battery.

Last year, the Miami race was viewed on ABC by 2.6 million people, the biggest American audience for a live F1 telecast. Ratings for this year’s race fell about 25 percent, perhaps a result of a duller-than-usual season dominated by one team, Red Bull.

Still, viewing data show that F1 is expanding beyond affluent cities associated with elite sports: In 2022, its top five American TV markets included Asheville, N.C., and Tulsa, Okla. ESPN is clearly betting on more growth. When the sports network renewed its broadcast rights last year, it agreed to pay $90 million annually — up from the $5 million-a-year deal it signed in 2019.

Liam Parker, a former adviser to Boris Johnson who now leads communications at F1, said the sport was intent on rectifying past mistakes. “We were too arrogant,” he said. “We couldn’t understand why the American fan base wasn’t falling in love with us.” But he also pushed back on the complaints that Liberty’s efforts to raise the entertainment factor had stripped F1 of something essential.

“This whole argument of ‘Americanization,’ it’s a very crude way to describe things,” he said. “We shouldn’t ignore things that can improve things for new and core fans. It’s about giving people more choices in the modern era. It’s modernization of access to everyone.”

Mr. Hamilton, arguably the biggest celebrity of the current F1 lineup, has offered his own endorsement of Liberty’s approach. “I mean jeez, I grew up listening to LL Cool J,” he told reporters in Miami. “I thought it was cool, wasn’t an issue to me.”

For all the debates over elitism, good taste and corporate rap collaborations, the core appeal of F1, when you get right down to it, may be something simpler — something Mr. Sargeant got at when asked in the interview if he had loved cars as a kid.

“I absolutely love driving, as you can imagine,” he said. “But to be honest, I’m not one of those people who studies cars and, you know, likes to know every detail of every single car. It doesn’t really interest me.”

“The part that interests me,” he concluded, “is driving them as fast as I can go.”

Eliza Shapiro contributed reporting from Miami. Kitty Bennett contributed research. Michael M. Grynbaum is a media correspondent covering the intersection of business, culture and politics. A version of this article appears in print on May 14, 2023, Section BU, Page 1 of the New York edition with the headline: The Florida Man Of Formula 1.

#logan sargeant #year:2023 #source:newspaper #one of the best logan articles imo #feel free to message me if you want me to gift you a copy of this article from the NYT with my subscription

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supermaks · 2 months

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max released his very own verstappie all-time win list, i must get your analysis 🔎

Omfg tastyyy ok heres Max's picks for his top 10 wins according to his latest red bulletin and transcribed by the awesome @tyrannosaurus-maxy , lets check if they feature in the verstappie rewatch

spain, 2016 ✅ mexico, 2018 ❌ ((analysis: a classic maxiel shootout that I wud have included if not for format limits and my pick of china, 2017. although very cunty of him to pick this as a crucial victory in his career, because it was a proper 'u wont win while I'm here' send off.)) austria, 2019 ✅ germany, 2019 ❌ ((analysis: ok I get it because that race was like .. netflix's drive to survive live action so to come out of it p1 is a classic max slay. also rip Hockenheim shout out to a real 1 u put the fear of god in those men fr)) 20th anniversary, 2020✅ france, 2021 ❌ ((analysis: entire 2021 season shud be its own verstappie rewatch lets keep it FRESH and TRUTHFUL howevr. I did go wid Emilia Romagna for my pick of the first wins because of what it represented ..dramaturgically. Like imagine the existential horror of knowing Verstappen has the car to challenge u in a classic f1 track on pure pace. Horrifying. But France did start to chip away at the 'average qualifier' myth in the culture and it did show rbr were willing to go freak for freak to dethrone Lewis. Looking back to it , it IS a champion drive from Max at such an early stage of his maiden wdc run, so makes sense it felt like that to him too.)) COTA, 2021 ✅, Spa, 2022 ✅ miami, 2023 ✅ , japan, 2023✅

Veredict: verstappie seal of approval. Some new insight particularly into COTA, 2021 which answered a few questions I had about the Silverstone crash and its consequences. Idk if yall ever saw pics of Max's lid after the crash, but the paint on the left side was completely scrapped off. Obvi we knew it the hit was serious enough from his radio, the general state of his car, how he looked climbing out of it, but I truly never expected him to share the full extent of the concussion. This isnt like the cramp or the like the bird he hit that one time, concussions are scary and uncomfortable and we still learning how to deal wid them in sport. Its an ongoing debate between medical responsibility and individual choice and that demands sensitivity and care and often lacks both. Because this time it involves Max and he didnt die, it now invites the worst people in the world to be purposely nasty and disingenuous in their interpretation of what he shared. But I think its important he told us. He shud not have to hide how much a crash like that impacted him, his title run, and what it meant to come out the other side a champion. I always said COTA 2021 is when he went from lil bro to big bro and now I'm sure he feels the same.

#ask #⭐#verstappie rewatch #from the baddie herself omfggg #long post #concussion cw #head trauma cw

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magnusstan · 3 months

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Kevin and Nico in the NY Times …

Kev on thinking he has time to be a Dad, getting called back to F1, priorities shifting, Laura liking the car, being torn about his kids being on socials and being neighbours with most of his family when they bought a house in his hometown …

BAHRAIN, BAHRAIN - MARCH 1: Kevin Magnussen of Denmark and Haas F1, wife Louise Gjorup and their daughters in the paddock during qualifying ahead of the F1 Grand Prix of Bahrain. (Photo by Kym Illman/Getty Images)

By Madeline Coleman

Jun 15, 2024

Just behind the Formula One teams’ motorhomes inside the Monaco Grand Prix paddock, fans leaned over a fence, trying to catch a glimpse of their favorite driver. As various drivers passed by, they inevitably missed some fans’ requests for selfies and autographs.

But Laura Magnussen wasn’t going to allow that to happen.

The three-year-old pushed her red scooter down the road behind a Haas team member and her father, Kevin Magnussen. When she realized he missed a fan’s autograph request, Laura scooted up to Kevin and tugged at his shirt, grabbing his attention and pointing at the fan. Kevin backtracked and signed the notebook, Laura pushing her scooter behind him.

It was just the latest of many moments featuring one of Magnussen’s two daughters to go viral on social media. Although plenty of team personnel, track employees and media members have families back home, Magnussen, teammate Nico Hülkenberg and Red Bull’s Sergio Pérez are the only parents on the grid.

Motorsports are ruthless and dangerous, a cutthroat sport where every millisecond and millimeter count. As elite athletes like F1 drivers rise to the top of their respective sports, the focus largely is centered on them.

That is until a little one comes along, radically changing how the adults approach life.

“It changed a lot of my priorities, like my perspective on life and my career and sport, and made everything else seem less important,” Magnussen said. “There’s always pressure on the drivers and also a bit of an anxiety where you think, ‘If I can’t be racing, then what am I? What do I do with my life?’

“Whereas now, that side of it is all settled in a way. I know if I’m not racing, then I have a fantastic life anyway.”

Magnussen didn’t initially intend to have kids while racing in F1.

He joined the grid full-time in 2014 but lost his seat to Fernando Alonso a year later. Magnussen found a full-time seat for 2016 and was out of a seat again after the 2020 season. He moved on to the lower profile world of IMSA. Rather than traveling the globe and competing during 20-plus weekends a year, he raced in sports cars in North America at places like Belle Isle in Michigan and Watkins Glen in New York. He competed in nine races that season and had no marketing or simulator duties, he said.

“I thought (the) timing was perfect because I finished my Formula One career, I thought, and it was the right moment,” Magnussen said. “We had a fantastic year. The next two years were fantastic, too, but in a much different way than I expected it to be.”

In January 2021, shortly before Magnussen flew to the U.S. for IMSA, he and Louise Gjørup Magnussen welcomed Laura into the world, born seven weeks early.

Hülkenberg was in a similar position when he and his wife, Eglė Ruškytė-Hülkenberg, had their daughter, Noemi Sky. “I was kind of a little bit out of the hot seat, and I had more time. Life was a bit more relaxed,” he said.

“My wife said I was always in a good mood because I didn’t have the bad days of the race weekend. You cut out the bad days, and you’re always kind of happy and balanced and well because we take this pretty seriously, this job, and if we have a bad weekend, it can tend to take up to a week to digest it, and obviously it impacts your mood.”

But when he returned to the grid full-time in 2023 with Haas, Hülkenberg said being a father didn’t change his approach, just that his life now revolved more around his family, as well as racing.

“I think racing drivers, the way we are wired, when you get in the car and when you put the helmet on the visor down, you forget all that. You don’t really think about it, and it’s just a blank mind,” he said. “You’re solely focused on performance and getting the best possible result. So no, I don’t think it’s changed my approach in the car. But outside, it takes a lot of focus and time being a dad.”

Sporting bright pink headphones and an all white outfit, Noemi Sky beamed as Nico and Eglė walked through the Monaco paddock, swinging their daughter in the air. On her feet were a pair of decorated shoes in honor of her father, one reading “Go Daddy” and the number two, and the other “Noemi Sky” and the number seven. (Her name came from both parents: Hülkenberg liked Noemi after seeing it in movie credits on a flight with his wife, while Eglė really liked Sky).

Bringing kids trackside takes a lot of planning, Hülkenberg said. Their schedules need to be factored in, like how to squeeze in naps at a noisy track. He added, “If you’re away from home and you have the hotel and it’s far away from the circuit, you really have to make sure you have all the toys and the iPad or whatever to get through the day.”

MONTE-CARLO, MONACO - MAY 25: Haas F1 driver Nico Hulkenberg is accompanied by his wife Egle and daughter Noemi during previews ahead of the F1 Grand Prix of Monaco. (Kym Illman/Getty Images)

Nico Hülkenberg said being a father didn’t change his racing approach, just that his life now revolved more around his family, as well as racing.

Magnussen finds it both “fantastic” and “frustrating because I’m too busy to really spend a lot of time with them. My kids think they’re on holiday.” Anges is nearly one year old and has visited the paddock before. Laura now understands that her father is racing, which is something she looks forward to, he said.

“She loves being in the garage and watching the car and all that. But still, she gets frustrated that I’m not available for the whole weekend. She wants to swim in the pool, and she wants to explore the place that we’ve come to, and I can’t do that. I’m just too busy.”

Magnussen says his oldest daughter isn’t intimidated by the loud sounds that come with the sport, and when she is in the garage, she wants to be close to the car. “She loves it, I think, because she knows that this is what daddy does, and she can be proud of the world that I go into every time I leave them alone.”

Over the past few years, Laura’s become a recognizable figure in the paddock, often going viral on social media, like when she helped her father prepare in Abu Dhabi last year. With her headset on, she helped Magnussen out on his gloves and closed his visor.

Magnussen’s social media accounts are run by his team, but his wife shows him the content of their daughters when it pops up. “It’s something that I feel divided about,” the Dane said.

“Laura doesn’t understand that millions of people are watching this and she didn’t consent to that. Also I feel like it’s a lot of people. Laura has been recognized, and I feel like she didn’t ask for that. I don’t feel too good about it,” Magnussen continued. “But at the same time, I think these videos are super cute, and these moments that we have had in the garage, they’re very special. And I treasure those videos because it’s awesome that we got to have this to keep and look at years to come.”

They try to balance the chaotic life of an F1 family, building some normalcy and making the kids happy. Magnussen pointed out how the number one thing in life is having real relationships and friends, not the jet-setting lifestyle.

BAHRAIN, BAHRAIN - MARCH 2: Kevin Magnussen of Denmark and Haas F1 walks through the paddock with his daughter during the F1 Grand Prix of Bahrain. (Kym Illman/Getty Images)

“Whatever you think is important before you’re a parent,” Magnussen said, “don’t worry about it. It’s not.”

“Me and my wife bought a house in a normal neighborhood with normal people close to our family. My wife’s parents, they live one house next to us, and my dad’s house is also on the same street,” Magnussen said. “Just around the corner, my mom’s house is also 100 meters away. My best friend is 50 meters. So we’re all within a radius of 100 meters, and I treasure that a lot.”

Even in a glitzy and glamorous world like F1, the simple moments in life may mean the most to the drivers, like flying home early to see their family or playing with their child after a difficult weekend. “It’s really nice when you have a bad weekend or a bad day and you go home and you take her and you play with her and she smiles at you,” Hülkenberg said. “It helps to forget the day, and it makes you feel better in that moment.”

When it comes to being a parent, the drivers’ priorities are the same as those of the everyday fan. It’s wanting to protect and be there for their child, providing a life that��ll make them happy. Priorities shift fairly heavily in the new chapter, putting life in a different perspective despite competing in a pressure-cooker-eseque environment.

“Whatever you think is important before you’re a parent,” Magnussen said, “don’t worry about it. It’s not.”

#domestic kmag you are so special to me #dad KMag #he’s just a normal guy #a down to earth king #LMag #kevin magnussen #kmag #f1 #formula 1 #formula one #f1blr #haas f1 team #moneygram haas f1 team #haas f1 #nytimes #nico hulkenberg #Hulknussen #haasbands

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qweenofurheart · 2 months

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a moodboard of sorts!!

i have spent the last 2-3 weeks writing a short story about these two fictional characters, 37-yr old Maltese driver Nino Schembri and 38-yr old half-Italian driver Rory Utley, who were teammates and rivals at Red Bull from 2009-2016. Rory is a three-time World Champion whereas Nino only has one. Nino retired in 2019 to drive in the WEC, and would eventually become teammates with Santana Marsh in 2021 where they would win the LMP2 Class Trophy as well as the 92e 24 Heures du Mans LMP2 Class Winner. After such a successful season, Nino endorsed Santana to the Scuderia Ferrari F1 team which was one of the main reasons Santana received a seat in 2024.

Nino and Rory have not spoken to each other since 2015. Rory definitely sees Santana as a proxy of Nino.

I think the main reason why this story came to be is that I wanted to build on Santana and Logan's stories and so I started thinking about their mentors and the drivers that came earlier. The great thing about sports is that you can make very organized timelines, and oftentimes the relationships between people can be correlated with the raw data and points. I also think there have been some interesting teammate moments this season (Lando and Oscar.. especially after last race) and so it really seems like tensions are inevitable in this sport!

I really don't know if I'll publish the full story because I'm not confident it'll come together, but I already have over 10,000 words. usually with these stories i just show them to one close friend and then I move on LOL

#my art #f1 oc #f1 ocs #formula one #f1 fic #oc art #my ocs #santana marsh #logan abujhaad #carmen iglesias #rory utley #nino schembri

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herohimbowhore · 10 months

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Red Bull and its everchanging driver lineup will forever be interesting to me. The Red Bull ecosystem/family/industrial complex, whatever it is that you want to call it, is something that knows no stability whatsoever.

Very rarely is there stability in the driver lineup for both Red Bull-affiliated teams.

Recency bias may have us thinking that this revolving door of Red Bull drivers has only occurred since 2016 or 2018. Because the Sebastian Vettel and Mark Webber lineup was stable, as was the Daniel Ricciardo and Max Verstappen lineup. Not to mention that Yuki Tsunoda and Pierre Gasly were teammates for two seasons! And let's not forget the days of David Coulthard and Mark Webber.

Despite those examples of stable lineups, there is always instability occurring at one of the teams, if not both.

Looking through the years, I compiled a list of every driver who's driven for Red Bull or Toro Rosso/AlphaTauri. So, every new driver, every single race change, mid-season swap. If there was a change, then it is listed.

In bold are the drivers currently driving for either Red Bull or AlphaTauri with the most recent first GP start. Lines 28 and 30 with Kyvat and Gasly mark the period in which Toro Rosso became AlphaTauri. The duration counts how many days are between the first GP and the last GP.

Some fun facts that I learned while making this:

Christian Klien and Vitantonio Liuzzi were supposed to trade off every four races in 2005. However, after Liuzzi's four races, Klien finished off the season.

Robert Doornbos is the only Red Bull/Toro Rosso driver to not have a full time drive within the Red Bull industrial complex.

Daniil Kyvat was replaced for the second time in less than two years during his 2016-2017 run. He was replaced by Pierre Gasly for Malaysia and Japan in 2017 due to underwhelming results, then returned for the US GP when Gasly was competing in a Super Formula race. In the end, despite Toro Rosso saying that Gasly was not a permanent replacement and Kyvat was still a part of the Red Bull family, he did not finish out the season and would not return until 2019, making it his third time leaving and coming back to Toro Rosso. (And funnily enough, his 2019 return was to replace Gasly.)

Drivers who have driven for the longest in the Red Bull industrial complex:

Max Verstappen: 3170 days and counting (also has the longest run with only one team - 2757 days and counting)

Sebastian Vettel: 2520 days

Mark Webber: 2443 days

Daniel Ricciardo: 2379 days

Daniil Kyvat: 1793 days

Drivers who have driven the least total days:

Robert Doornbos: 21 days

Liam Lawson: 42 days

Nyck De Vries: 126 days

Brendon Hartley: 399 days

Alex Albon: 469 days

The table, while helpful, doesn't fully allow us to visualize just how unstable the driver lineups are. So, I made a timeline:

(please ignore that driver names aren't in the same places between pictures. the website I was using only allowed 18 events at a time, so there was some shuffling around.)

The driver changes on the top portion in each picture is Red Bull and on the bottom portion, it is Toro Rosso/AlphaTauri.

Maybe this is normal? You know, F1` is a sport that changes all the time. Every year we've had sprint races, it has been different. So, maybe driver changes so often are just the norm?

While there is no direct comparison (as is the case for almost everything in Formula 1), two other current teams on the grid had their first races in the 21st century -- Mercedes and Haas.

Mercedes might have one of the most stable driver lineups. Since 2010, they have only had five drivers. With the exception of George Russell filling in for Lewis Hamilton in 2020 for one race, all drivers raced every race they were supposed to.

Haas, similar to Mercedes, finished driver contracts and didn't make mid-season changes. The only exception was Pietro Fittipaldi completing the 2020 season after Romain Grosjean's crash.

Again, it's not a direct comparison, but there is a very visible difference.

Mercedes has had a stable lineup because they had their world champion driver and a teammate who could be there to pick up the points. Red Bull technically has the same with Max and Sergio now and did have the same with Sebastian and Mark.

But there's a key difference between the Red Bull industrial complex and teams like Mercedes and Haas. Red Bull, for as long as it has been in Formula One, has had a neverending list of drivers waiting in the wings. The Red Bull juniors are like a hydra - you cut off one head and two grow back. One Red Bull junior leaves, there's at least a handful to replace him.

Haas can't develop junior drivers and Mercedes tends to focus their attention on just one or two juniors. They don't have a list of drivers that they can pick and choose to replace a driver. They also don't have a junior team from which they can shuffle things around.

I doubt that Red Bull will ever have the same long-standing driver lineups like other teams, but I am curious to see if the reduced junior drivers will allow for some stability in AlphaTauri (or Racing Bulls I guess).

#formula 1 #daniel ricciardo #max verstappen #red bull racing #sebastian vettel #f1 #mercedes #haas f1 team #red bull industrial complex #alex albon #pierre gasly

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lewisconstellation · 2 years

Text

good in bed

summary: being Lewis Hamilton PR was a big challenge. but being locked in a motorhome with him was a much bigger one.

pairing: lewis x reader

word count: 6.4k

warnings: 18+, general smut, angst

notes: i'm reposting this one just because... yeah i kinda like it. english isn't my first language so there are many mistakes here. i'm so sorry for that :(

��If he wants to prove that he’s a man, I think we should do it out of the car, face to face.”

That phrase, that damn phrase was glued in your mind, disturbing your peace and bringing a sudden panic from the moment you heard it from Lewis’s lips during press conference.

When you were hired by Mercedes team to be Lewis’ PR, you knew you were going to be dealing with tricky things. You would be taking care of the image of a great F1 team, a team that was winning, dominating the category. You would be taking care of the image of an even greater driver, who was considered one of the best the world has ever seen. And when things were so great, the responsibilities were even greater. But you always liked challenges, liked to feel challenged.

When they hired you a few months ago, Lewis was having a rough time. The 2016 season was controversial and the Mercedes drivers were involved in a huge battle for the world championship. Nico Rosberg had the win, but it cost a lot. The German driver couldn’t deal with the pressure and decided to retire right after his win. And, Lewis, well. He was a relentless pilot, that was a fact. Aggressive, technical, dominant. One of the best on track. But outside of them, he was still seen as a somewhat controversial figure. He was that kind of person you either loved or hated. There was no middle ground. He sometimes talked too much in interviews. Spit all his feelings, let people know more than they need to. And when you’re a famous person, it’s dangerous. People can’t know that much about you.

So your duty was to clean up his image. Make him the idol that Mercedes wanted to build. You accepted that challenge. You felt capable enough to do that. And there you are.

The race in Baku had not ended well. In fact, quite the opposite had happened. Lewis was leading the race by a huge margin and was on track to beat Sebastian Vettel, his main opponent that year. However, while waiting for the safety car to leave, the rear of the Mercedes car was hit full-on by the red car. As if that wasn't enough, Sebastian even hit Hamilton one more time, when they were side by side. Even with all the damage, Lewis managed to finish in fifth place. It had been a great run of recovery and damage containment, but he was extremely dissatisfied. One thing led to another, and he ended up saying countless things he shouldn't have during the interview. And it made you extremely angry.

You were used to it. She was used to fixing things, putting out the flames Lewis lit. Used to handle it well, kept calm. But today, that had crossed all limits. You guys had a damage containment schedule, he knew what to say when this kind of unexpected thing happened. But he just decided to forget all about it and said whatever stupid shit made him look like a damn rockie. You wanted to yell at him, call him deplorable names. In many other moments you also felt this urge. But nothing compared to what he felt this time. Maybe it was the heat of Baku. You didn't like the hot weather. It just made you more stressed.

But you couldn't put him in his place right there, in front of all the media. You knew better than that. She was smarter than he was, after all. Then, right after the press conference was over, you escorted him to his motorhome, as you always did. Side by side, walking together. Both serious, carrying your own frustrations.

He went in first, leaving the door open for you. He wasn’t a gentleman, you thought. But you accepted the invitation. You went through the door like a hurricane and slammed it shut. So much force that a loud noise echoed through the walls of the motorhome, startling the driver.

“Are you crazy?” The driver asks, turning his head to look at you properly.

“I should be asking that question, don't you think? Are YOU crazy?” The words came out from my lips, roughly, accusatory. He give you a sinister laugh in response. You don’t like the sound of it.

“Look, that fucker literally hit me. I should be the winner of that shit race and instead I end P5. Vettel is still the leader. I'm so fucking pissed off, you don’t even know”. He laughs again, this time louder than before. You realized that this was something common with him. He used to laugh whenever he was nervous about something. “So what the hell do you expect me to say? That I'm oh so happy to be P5 when I could win the fucking race?”

“I expected you to say what we agreed before?” You gesture with your hands. Can't understand how someone like him, who's been in the spotlight for so many years, can't answer the media's questions without giving them ammunition.

He doesn't answer you. That was another thing about him. He just ignored people so he wouldn't continue arguing. You were already used to it. But then, he started taking off his Mercedes white shirt, the toned abdomen now visible, the dark lines of the tattoos decorating his body. Getting ready to finally leave, go back to the hotel, rest a bit before fly back home.

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Taking off my clothes?” He answers like it's obvious.

“Now? In front of me? Right when we're fighting?”

"Don't act like you've never seen it before." - He says, a naughty smile painting his lips. You ignore the weird shiver that runs down his spine when he looks at you like that. "And you are fighting. Alone. I'm not fighting with you. For what it matters, I don't give a fuck to any of this. My image. What the media will say. What you are saying. I don't fucking care."

You shake your head in disbelief after hearing Lewis' words. How could anyone be so selfish? Egocentric?

"Want to know? Fuck you Lewis! Fuck. You." You say, upset. You turn your back to Lewis and start walking toward the door in quick, precise steps. Feel his eyes on you during the process. Don't want to be in that tiny cubicle anymore. Can no longer breathe the same air as that man. But when you put one of your hands on the doorknob, you realize something is wrong. The handle does not turn as it should. It looks stuck.

"Ugh, what is the problem with this door? Fuck!" You mumble. Low enough that the rider thinks you're talking to yourself, but loud enough that he hears and comes to your aid. You had your pride, after all. You wouldn't ask him for help even if I needed it to live.

"So stubborn and can't even open a fucking door. What a joke!" He complains but you hear his footsteps, walking towards you. Seconds later, he's behind you. His bare chest inches from your back, one arm outstretched, his hand on the doorknob. You're practically cornered by him. You hold your breath.

"Fuck! This shit is broken. Fucking hell." He says, his deep voice in your neck makes you shiver. In all these months, you've never been this close. It makes your body behave in a strange way, but you try to ignore it. Focus on the problem you need to deal with right now. You're stuck in the motorhome with Lewis. You need to find a way to get out of here.

"I can't believe I'm stuck here. With you." Your voice comes out as a moan, anguished, anxious to get out of that place soon. You'd always hated the feeling of being trapped. That's why you used to avoid elevators. And while the motorhome had ample space, Lewis’ presence made it a smaller square than the elevator. And it made you panic.

"You talk like it's not your fault. You're the one who broke the fucking door."

He scoffs, hands still on the doorknob. His body is still close to yours. You turn around at his words. His face is mere inches from yours. You could feel his rhythmic breathing, could see his face perfectly. The pretty contour of the nose, his perfectly plucked eyebrows, bright brown eyes, all the details of his face exposed to you. But what caught your attention the most were his lips. Full, lower lips the same size as the upper ones. Perfect. For a few moments, you imagine what it would be like to kiss him. Would he be dominating, aggressive, just like he was on the tracks? Or would he let you take control?

You shake your head, try to banish those thoughts from your mind. Try to focus on the situation in front of you.

"Why are you always looking for a way to blame other people, huh? What the hell, why do you always do this? Why do you always blame me?"

The phrases come out of your mouth quickly, without thinking enough before saying them. They've been in you for a while and you’ve been waiting for so long to say it to the driver. Thought this was the right time to spit it out. They didn't make much sense right now. In the end of it all, the handle was broken because you used all your strength to close the door. Too tightly. But you didn't want to think about it. Just wanted to hurt him the same way he hurted you. But your thoughts and your words are abruptly interrupted. Lewis' lips were glued to yours. He was kissing you.

You felt like your whole world stopped. At that moment, all that mattered was the fact that his lips was against yours. He wasn't soft at all, in fact his contact was extremely dominating, strong. It suited him. He parted your lips, his tongue finally dipping, exploring your mouth intensely as his hands slowly roamed your back. He pulled you to him, and seemed eager to take all of you completely. One of his hands gripped the back of your neck tightly, forcing you to stand there and feel everything his lips were willing to give. The other roamed around your waist, holding that region possessively, pressing your body on his. A moan escape from your lips, and it makes him even more ferocious. Your hands, still shy and trembling, reach his shoulders and you decide to leave them there. Feeling his muscles move in your fingers. The sensation is delicious and consumes every bit of you. Your head spun out of control, the feel of his body strong against mine was overwhelming, intoxicating.

You always thought those “enemies to lovers” romances were silly, something that could never happen outside of the books pages. But in that small room in a motorhome, surrounded by Lewis’s scent and taste, you could see a little bit of truth in those romances. The sudden fights, the sexual tension that hung in the air, the strange desire that took over your body. All those silly cliches coming to life right before your eyes.

When the air is no longer present between you two, Lewis pulls away minimally, just enough for both of you to catch your breath. His lips are still softly touching yours and now both of his hands are on your face, holding you gently. His eyes meet yours and you feel your entire body combust in that moment. There is so much lust, so much desire there and it makes all your senses disappear.

"If I only knew that all I needed to do to shut that dirty little mouth of yours was kiss you.” He pauses, lets his head drop to the level of your neck. Breathes your scent, leaves wet kisses on your skin. You moan once more, completely surrendered to him. Completely at his mercy. "I would have kissed you sooner." He finishes looking you into your eyes again, lingering. But then he's looking at your lips. They were probably red and swollen from his kisses. His lips twisted into a smirk. The one he always gave after saying something bold or after winning one of your usual arguments.

You roll your eyes to him. You should go away from him. Try to open the door again. Yell for someone of the team and ask for help. But you just can't. There's something that makes it impossible for you to simply go away. Maybe it was his smell, so strong and intoxicating. You would never admit it out loud, but you found his scent fascinating, addictive. Even after spending hours in a racing car, he still smelled oh so good. But maybe it wasn’t his smell. Maybe it was his kisses, so demanding that you knew he could do anything he wanted from you. Or maybe it was his hot body against yours. All solid like a rock, muscles carefully built with years of workout smacking your small body. In the end of it all, maybe it was a combination of all of it with the months of sexual tension and mutual desire hidden by your daily fights. That was making you crazy. But you don't want to overthink it. Just tell him to shut up and kiss his soft lips again.

His hands sneak down to the back of your legs. A request for you to jump up and wrap them around his waist. You obey and promptly comply his request. A moan escaped his lips when he felt your hot pussy against his needy, throbbing cock. Even through the clothes he could feel how needy you were, how much you wanted it. Without taking his mouth away from yours, he walks with you in his arms to the small gray sofa that occupied the central area of the motorhome room. He sits there with you in his arms. Kiss your lips in a hungry way again and again. Trace the line of your neck with his tongue. Let soft kisses there. Mumble naughty things in your ear. You feel that at any moment your body is going to catch fire. Every move he makes, every gesture seems to be minimally calculated. Specially designed to set you on fire.

You move slowly in his lap, feeling the hardness of his length against your pussy. Your panties were already soaked. Your juices are leaking through the fabric and running down between your thighs. You suspected it was staining the black pants he was wearing, but he didn't seem to mind.

For the first time he pulls away from you, giving you just enough room to pull the Mercedes shirt off your body. You feel embarrassed when his intense gaze falls on his breasts, now fully exposed to him. You had let go of bras a few years ago, you didn't feel the need to wear them anymore. But in that moment you regret your choices, when he drank the view exposed to him. He looked mesmerized. His face comes closer to your body again, he leaves a trail of kisses from your neck down to your breasts. "You're perfect". he murmurs against your skin. "Fucking perfect." And you feel your stomach tighten. You feel confident again, like you're the most beautiful and powerful woman in the world. His praise sends all your insecurities away. It makes you even wetter, as if that were possible.

When his hands reached your breasts, you were sure that you had died and arrived in paradise. His big hands enveloped it, taking up all the volume. His long fingers brushed your nipples, immediately hardening them. "You like that, don't you? My little whore." Nodding your head, you arched your back, pushing your breasts against his hands, giving him greater access to your body. His hands didn't take long to accept your offer. Lewis massaged your breasts slowly, making you sigh, moan his name, ask for more. At that moment, your eyes were closed, but you were pretty sure he was smiling. Could feel it. Bastard.

So intoxicated you were by the pleasure he was giving you, that you don't even notice when one of his hands leaves your breast and then his lips enclose your right nipple, drawing a loud moan from you. You lose track of time. You don't know where you are anymore. The only thing that goes through your mind are the sensations Lewis is making you feel. You need to hold back when he repeats the movements on your left breast or you'll end up coming just from it. How can a man be that good?

With your left breast on his lips, Lewis slides one hand down your legs, until he reaches the hem of your black skirt. He doesn't think twice before taking it out off your body, leaving you half naked for him, only the damp fabric of your panties covers your body now.

Unfortunately for you, Lewis leaves your breast, but doesn't leave you in misery for long. The man lets out a loud groan as his fingers make contact with your wet pussy still covered by your panties. He takes it off of your body easily, his hot finger finally in contact with your needy folds.

"Holy shit, baby, you’re dripping… soaking up my fingers." He gently pressed your clit, massaging slowly before sliding two of his fingers inside of your heat. Your lips parted as a moan left your body. Your hadn't been this wet in your entire life. When he starts moving his fingers quickly, in and out of your pussy, you lose control, feel completely dizzy. "Wet like this for someone you hate that much?"

A million different sensations passed through your body, spreading from each point where Lewis was touching you. The way he thrust his fingers into you or how he kissed your breasts and your neck. Everything was so intense that you couldn't hold back for long, and in a moment of euphoria, you came on his fingers, your body shaking so intensely that Lewis had to let go of your right breast to hold your waist tightly. You muttered nonsense words, moaned his name out loud, not caring if one of the many employees passing by would hear you. His fingers continued to work furiously on your sodden pussy, sliding in a rhythm so overwhelming it had you screaming.

"You look so much prettier like this, you know? Totally under my control, coming just for me."

When he finally seems to take pity on your exhausted state, his fingers leave your pulsing center. You breathe hard, consumed by the pleasure he was giving to you. But one movement catches your eye. Lewis's wet fingers reached his lips and then he started licking them. Licking your cum, your taste from his fingers. You've never seen anything so sexy before. "You're so fucking sweet" He said. Eyes glued to yours as he licks his fingers clean. "Even more than I imagined." Oh so he had imagined it before?

He closed his eyes as he spoke, as if he were savoring your taste, delighting in it. That was so hot. You couldn't articulate a decent answer to that. But your hands began to work. You slipped them down to the waistband of his pants, opening the zip and palming his hard bulge. You felt his body shudder under your touch. Realizing that made you feel an overwhelming need to make him feel as much pleasure as he was making you feel.

You hesitated for a moment. Your fingers stopped at the waistband of the black jeans he wore. You looked up at his face, finding his brown eyes glaring at you, pleading, eager for your next move. With that look, you felt something light. You felt powerful there, on top of him, setting the pace. He was at your mercy now. And you were enjoying it. "Tell me what you want Lewis" Your voice is steady, your eyes glued to his. Fingers hovering over the fabric of his pants. He moans your name under his breath, the pleading tone dripping into his voice. He has his pride, he would never plead with you. He just thrusts his hips into your hands, making you feel how hard he is. For you.

You give up any verbal pleading on his part. You already had control. Didn't need anything else. Finally you slid down his pants and underwear, all at only one time, making his hard dick bounce, hovering in his lower abdomen. See it took your breath away. Your eyes widened at the sight of Lewis's cock, big and thick, throbbing against his skin. Protruding veins covering his entire length. His red and moist tip was covered in his pre-cum. That was the most beautiful thing you had ever seen.

Your fingers circled him, giving him a soft stroke. A strangled moan emerged from Lewis' lips. “Fuck, this feels so good." You stroked him once more, this time with a bit more of strength and savored the feel of his big dick between your fingers, the soft skin and the hardness of his member, throbbing under your touch. You think about how good his heaviness would feel on your tongue. Get ready to be on your knees in front of him. Want to taste him on your lips. When you move to get off his lap, Lewis sighs and holds you down.

Grabbing your hair, Lewis gently pulled it, pressure enough to make you moan. "So eager to have my cook in that filthy mouth of yours, huh?" He asked, his lips hovering close to yours. "I will let you gag on my cook, baby. But not now. Now I need to feel that tight pussy around me." God. All the blood in your body has pooled in your center, your wet cunt pulsing and piercing every one of your senses.

You feel your entire body getting hot, in an almost feverish state. Can't wait any longer, so you just take matters into your own hands. Hold his throbbing cock in your hands and masturbate his length slowly, drawing a groan from him. Positioned your body so that your dripping entrance is hovering over his cock. Pass his swollen tip through your entrance one, two, three times until Lewis loses his patience and grip your hips tightly, making you slide his length, taking all of him.

It is so overwhelming that you lose your breath for a few seconds. He's so big and so thick and fill you up so well that you lose all your senses. You swallow hard. Feel him pulsing inside of you, just as needy as you. It was all too much but at the same time it seemed too little. You wanted to feel more of him, you needed to feel more of him. With that, you started moving your hips slowly, trying to feel every single inch of him. The way he fit you so perfectly made it seem like he was built exclusively for you, to give you pleasure. How could you live so long without feeling this?

“Shit, baby, you’re so tight” Lewis whines, his head falling over the back of the sofa. You look at his face and just that sight seems to be enough to make you come. Eyes closed, cheeks flushed and mouth slightly open, moaning your name over and over again. He looked helpless there, completely at your mercy. You were in control. “So warm and so fucking tight.”

You placed both hands on his neck, using it for support to ride him faster, harder. You watched his eyes widen at your act, a strangled moan leaving his lips.

"You like that, don't you? You like being my little toy? Being used exclusively for my pleasure turns you on, huh?" You say mockingly, taking advantage of the vulnerable state of that man who was normally so dominant. He groans shamelessly, enjoying the feeling of your warm walls around him, strangling his cock. Seeing him like this, so helpless, desperate to take everything you were willing to give, set you on fire. You wanted to hold back more, you wanted to make him beg, to make him come first, but you couldn't. The feel of his cock touching the deepest points of your wet pussy was too much. You couldn't help it.

You swallow hard, feel your pussy getting tighter and tighter around his cock as your movements start to be slower, clumsy. Everything comes at once. An overwhelming pleasure takes you off the ground and makes you lose your sense of reality. It feels like a dream. This couldn't be real, it was too good to be. You moan his name over and over, can't stop repeating it, sounding like a mantra in your mouth.

Still sailing the waves of pleasure, you feel Lewis' hands move up your back, now extremely sweaty, until they reach the back your neck. He holds you tight, makes you look at him. The dark eyes stare at you lustfully, as if you're something precious. He kisses you intensely, takes your breath away before he holds your jaw.

"Did I let you do that? Did I let you come?" There he was, the dominant, controlling man. You smiled, still inert, feeling the effects of your recent orgasm. “Answer me. Did I let you come?”

“I didn't know I needed your permission to do it.” You smile again, enjoy that power game.

“Oh you didn't know huh? Such a whore, aren't you? I will teach you a lesson and you will never, never disobey me anymore.” With that, he gripped the back of your neck tightly again before move his other hand to have a good hold of your ass, hugging your body completely. You gasp when he starts thrusting up, fast and hard. With the new angle, you can feel his cock touching deep points inside of you, points that have never been hit before. You are still sensitive from your recent orgasm, you won't last long this time.

“Oh shit! You're so fucking deep. It's so good, fuck!”

“Yeah? You like it rough, don’t you?” He asks, even though he knows the answer. He knows you're loving it, intoxicated by every little detail of it. He can feel by the way you’re clenching hard around him. By the way you’re moaning his name shamelessly, not caring about the people walking outside and probably listening to the whole show. Completely dick drunk and obsessed with the way he fucks you. But, he want to hear it from you. His big hands slap your ass, making your eyes widen. "I asked you a question. Answer me"

“Yeah, I love when you fuck me like that, baby. It’s so fucking good, you’re gonna make me come again” You whimper, running your hands through his short beard, feeling the rough hairs on your fingers. Kiss him on the mouth one more time, make him swallow your loud moans and start to move in the same rhythm as him. You want to feel him coming too.

“You can come baby. Squeeze my dick one more time, love. I want to feel it again.” He murmurs against your cheek, kisses your skin before moving his lips down to your neck, never slowing the insane pace he’s moving his hips. You moan in relief and, with his permission, come once more, soaking his cock in your juices. Nothing could overcome that feeling. It was destructive, addictive.

“Lewis, fuck! I can't take it anymore, I can't” He laughed when he heard you whimpering. The tables turned again and now you were helpless, reduced to a whimpering mess. With one swift movement, he flipped you over on the small couch, as if you weighed nothing. He maneuvered your body so that he was on top now, hovering over you. That sight made you dizzy, weak. See him like this, sweaty, so strong on top of you, moving fast. He looked so composed, like he wasn't making any effort. This couldn't be real. You were probably dreaming.

Lewis didn't slow down, however. He continued to fuck you even harder, he never seemed to get tired. You've been with a few men in your life, but none of them have been like that. None of them prioritized your pleasure, none of them were so relentless. Without realizing it, that feeling took over your body again and then you were coming again. It wasn't possible.

“Yes, you fucking can. That's what you wanted, isn't it? Cum around my dick, huh? I wanna feel you fucking dripping.” He states, moving one of his hands to your neck, squeezing. You struggle to keep your eyes open but you feel the need to watch that moment. Want to remember him like this forever. Sweat trickling down his strong body, highlighting the many tattoos he has. The way his muscles moved each time he moved his hips back and forth. Lips parted, pupils dilated. He seemed like some kind of God, sent to earth especially to take away your peace and at the same time to make you achieve it.

Watching him carefully you notice him changing the rhythm of the thrusts, sometimes slower, sometimes a bit faster, slamming his hips relentlessly against yours. Sometimes his eyes would close and he would take a deep breath, you knew he was trying to control himself. He was just as vulnerable as you were, just as off-limits as you were.

“I will make you cum around my cock again, my little whore. You will fucking cum again and again and again. Until you can't stand on your legs. Until this pretty pussy of yours be sore.” His words had an effect on you. Again, you felt your body come apart, now beneath him. The pleasure was so violent that it made you feel a strange pressure in your abdomen, more overwhelming than the previous ones. Unlike anything you've ever felt in your life. Unable to stop yourself, you squirted on him, drenching him completely. That seemed to feed him, made him even more ruthless. You were so sensitive that any little stimulation was overwhelming. Pleasure and pain mixed together. If he didn't have mercy on you now you were sure you would die.

“Please, Lew, come for me. Come inside me. I need to feel it, I need to feel you. Please.” You beg your hands gently running up and down his cheeks. The pleasure made you so careless, so out of your mind, it was impossible to contain that desire. You were always controlled, careful. You never allowed a man to come inside you, you didn't like to take risks. But at that moment, you needed it. It was an uncontrollable desire. You felt like you would faint if he didn't pour it on you.

That was not common for him either. It went completely against the careful behavior he always had. But he can't help it. Your hot, wet pussy, squeezing him mercilessly was pulling him to do it. When he heard it from your mouth, asking so gently, so needy. That was the end, he couldn't contain himself.

“Fuck, I’m coming. Mhmm, milk my cock, baby. Take all of it” He muttered before finally pouring himself into you. A deep, high-pitched groan tore from his throat. Your name. His hot seed painting your walls. You did as you were told, squeezing your pussy around him until he had completely emptied his load in you. It made you feel complete in an indescribable way. It was too much to explain.

After that, his body collapsed on top of yours, wrapping his strong arms around your body as if he needed that to live. You accepted and returned the gesture, hugging him too. It felt so natural, laying there, completely naked, hugging him, in a circle of completeness that neither of you could ever understand. You hated each other a few hours ago and now you were here, sharing such an intimate moment. It was weird. But then again, you didn't want to overthink about it. So you choose to live the moment and enjoyed it as much as you could.

You didn't know exactly how long you stayed there, laying together, silent, just contemplating your existence together, but you know exactly the moment that woke both of you. His cock still hard inside of you, pulsing, begging him to move again. It was unbelievable, that man couldn't be real. Did he not get tired?

As if reading your thoughts, he chuckled, before lifting himself a little and moving his hips again, slow and careful, drawing a groan from you.

“Are you insatiable? My God” You protest sounds more like a groan than anything else.

He laughs again, that endearing laugh, looking like a kid who's been caught doing something he shouldn't. He knew he'd impressed you and he liked it. "You have not seen anything yet" With that he kisses you deeply, starts moving faster, uses his own cum to make you more slippery, more malleable.

"Lewis? Are you there?"

Angela's voice echoes off the cramped walls of the motorhome, pulling you both out of the wild bubble you've been in. Your eyes instantly widen and for some reason you can't even move. Nervousness consumes you completely and the only thing you can do is watch Lewis, stunned. You silently ask him to do something, to quickly get off of you and tell Angela some lie, but he doesn't. In fact, all he does is continue moving his hips slowly, thrusting gently into your wet pussy. You can't believe the boldness of that man. He certainly was crazy. And maybe you were even more because you were enjoying it. You were enjoying it way too much.

“Yes, Ang.” He answers. Pause to watch you. Move his hips once more. Can't stop his movements even if he wanted to. Being engulfed in your warm walls is just too good to stop now. And besides that, he finds it cute to see you struggling to contain your groans. “Yeah, I'm here.”

“Are you ok, Lew?” She asks. Her voice was unsure. Of course she thinks the whole situation is way too strange. In normal conditions Lewis would quickly open the door for her. His sore muscles asking for her magic hands to give him some sense of relaxation after all the stress he has been exposed to. But not today. Today he was receiving another kind of recovery treatment.

“Yeah. Yeah, I'm ok. Just...give me five minutes and I'll meet you in my room to stretch a bit before the meeting.”

“Ok, I will see you then!” You know she’s still thinking it’s a bit weird, but she doesn’t push it.

After you hear the physical therapist's footsteps walking away from the motorhome entrance, you push Lewis' body off of you, sighing at the loss of contact, making him fall onto the couch. His face contorts, a mixture of confusion and dissatisfaction. You shake your head, laughing. That man was crazy. Did he really expect you to stay there all day? “We need to go back to work” You say, casually, as if you weren't doing anything wrong just minutes ago.

You get up from the couch but your legs give out and for a moment you think you're going to fall on your knees in front of him. You pray to God that this doesn't happen because if it does you will never get out of that motorhome again. Luckily Lewis' big hands grip the back of your thighs. It keeps you steady on your feet. “I got you” He says, a playful smile on his face. You can’t help but smile for him again. You don't know how long you stood there, facing him and smiling. Good sex really makes people silly, you think.

You escape from his touch quickly, still naked. Walking bewildered through the small space of the motorhome, trying to find your lost clothes on the floor. You inhale and exhale to calm yourself, but ends up being flooded by the scent of sex that hung in the air. Yeah, maybe breathing wasn't the best idea at the moment.

He watches you closely, doesn't move. Still sitting on the couch, beautifully naked. His cock, still hard, rests on the smooth skin of his abdomen. He seems to be oblivious to reality. And you're not much different. Your movements are lost, clumsy. You should yell at him. Insult him and expect him to insult you back. Start a fight. Follow the common routine you've developed over the past few months. But you can't. And neither does he. The atmosphere between you seems calmer, lighter. You strangely expect it to stay that way.

"Will you leave me here? Like this?"

He asks, finally. Lewis gestures with his hands, signaling his cock, painfully hard and throbbing, clamoring for your attention. You want nothing more than to be on your knees for him, cover him in your saliva, choke on his thick length. But you can’t. Have been too reckless today. You are already fully dressed, the Mercedes uniform covering your body perfectly. But beneath the dark-colored clothes, your skin is sweaty, clammy. Lewis's masculine scent permeated every part of you. His cum dripping down your panties. You try to not think about it.

"I need to work." You answer, slowly. "I need to fix the mess you've made." Maybe it seems you’re accusing him, but your tone is playful and you’re laughing. Your daily provocation game is taking a new tone. That was good. “And we need to find a way to open the damn door” You say, almost forgot the broken door. Secretly, you were thanking the gods for making that door break. Without it, none of this would have happened. Maybe your life would be easier if none of this had happened, but what's the fun of it?

Lewis only nods but when his mouth twitches into a mischievous smile, you know he’s in the game already. He starts moving, picks up his own clothes, puts them on slowly as you try to arrange your curls. You smile at each other during the process. When both of you are fully clothed, he kisses you intensely, gives a slight slap on your ass. Smile at you again. Maybe wild sex was all you needed to finally stop acting like two silly kids, you think.

#lewis hamilton x you #lewis hamilton x reader #lewis hamilton smut #lewis hamilton one shot #lewis hamilton imagine #lewis hamilton fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 x you #f1 x reader #f1 smut

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milflewis · 1 year

Note

gonna be boring and ask for sewis if you havent done it before 🙏🏼

this is a love story. like in every shape and form. whether it’s romantic or platonic. real or rpf. this is a love story.

just. the sheer amount of history here. the depth of knowledge and time they have about each other. as long as i have been racing lewis has been there!!!!!!! they knew each other before f1 and during and after. there for all the world titles and wins and losses. i love them in the beginning. and hamilton has found a friend!!!!!! i love them during seb’s years at rbr when lewis is caught up in nico and mclaren and seb is thinking about mark and winning and still. they have moments together. i love them during sebcedes where seb is getting so much enjoyment out of stirring the pot and he’s being such a dick and lewis swivels between ignoring him and laughing. i love them after 2016. in the time where they didn’t know where to place each other and lewis is still reeling after nico and seb is new in ferrari and it’s so bitchy and so full of teeth and then baku !!!!!! what happened in baku !!!!!!!! smth wonderful. and the years after! how they pushed each other and never quite lost that bite but the respect was there bc of That. bc they knew the other would never let up. need you to keep fighting with me next year.

and all this morphs into smth that means lewis would go out of his way to organise a dinner party for seb with all the drivers just to show seb how much seb means to all of them and into smth that means in front of all the cameras and the ppl seb deliberately and carefully only hugged lewis and into smth that means that lewis would bring up seb over and over and over again during 2021 so he didn’t have to talk about max. smth smth a safe space born from violence smth smth.

the joy that seb gets from making lewis laugh to that look on lewis’s face when he sat down beside seb in malaysia as seb cried. he has made the sport less lonely. lewis choosing him and seb over everyone.

there is no lack of bravery in sebastian. i never have any doubts in a hard duel with lewis hamilton. it’s giving i love you. i say your name all the time when you’re not around. just to put more of you in the world. he is rare. we’re witnessing you make history.

it’s how their story would’ve been so fucking good even if it ended at baku. even if they never got over that. it probably would’ve never have grown into what it was but it still would’ve been something but it did! it did become more! it became more bc of baku. and they know that! seb has even said it! and this guy who values fairness and what is right wouldn’t take back baku even tho he was in the wrong bc it. it got him lewis. it got him this

#there are essays upon essays here but i told myself not to do a readmore on any of these asks so i’m stopping here #idk how long this is mb it should be under the cut but idc #sewis #honest ship opinions #clara tag #niamh.asks

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maxybabyy · 10 months

Text

fic masterlist

hello, hi!

thanks for reading :) here's a little overview of the things I've written for the F1 fandom.

my ao3 user is copenhagenborn (also what i follow from here on tumblr) so go there for full length fics!

maxiel fics:

lab fic/ph.d. students maxiel

domestic cat-step-dad Daniel

non-au cheerleader girl!max (inspired by this wonderful gif!)

moulin rouge au

rent au (also on ao3!)

Max Run Club au (two parts)

Brokeback mountain au

frat bros au

max has a bad dream au

toothbrush au

malaysia 2016 au

descriptive maxiel fic?:

too hot to handle fic

and the perfect match sequel

#masterlist #my writing #updated Feb 2024

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formula1bby · 1 year

Text

Fortune Favors the Brave Ch. 1

Carlos Sainz x driver!fem!oc

wc: 8216

SLOW BURN MULTIPART STORY, begins in 2019 but we will be jumping around slightly just bc I will not survive writing out every season until the current one XD Later on in the story there will be references to an oc for a different story that I will also be releasing a teaser for within the next couple of weeks but as of right now she is not relevant to Aaliyah's story.

Warnings: descriptions of a panic/anxiety attack, obnoxious reporters, lots of swearing XD

A/N: welp, it's finally here! After almost a year of me talking about this I actually finished editing chapter 1! Let me know what you guys think and if you want to be included in the tag list for this!

Formula One is a dream for many drivers, yet so few of them actually get to achieve that dream. It’s such a cruel fate that these drivers face but for those that are able to turn their dreams into reality, it’s everything. One such lucky driver was 18 year old Aaliyah Thompson. She had the fortunate opportunity to be a full time driver for Toro Rosso in 2017, straight out of winning the Formula Renault 2.0 Litre championship in 2016. She quickly showed her merit and earned eight points at her first Grand Prix (in a less than adequate car), proving those that doubted her wrong. Although, some say that Aaliyah making it into Formula One was just as cruel a fate as never achieving that dream. Being the first female driver to actually start a grand prix since Lella Lombardi in 1976 as well as the youngest driver to have ever entered a grand prix, being only 16 years old in her first season, meant people held her to a very different set of standards. Any mistake meant that her seat would be questioned immediately and the media, who were always breathing down her neck like wolves, would get that misstep they’d been waiting for and pounce.

Aaliyah would be lying if she ever said she regretted her decision to sign with Toro Rosso. Sure, it was hard and the competition she faced in F1 was much more difficult than Formula Renault, but this was her dream and she’d be damned if she let anyone or anything dampen that for her.

Walking through the parking lot, Aaliyah groaned at the horde of media surrounding the entrance to the paddock. Maggie, her PR manager and best friend, lightly smacked Aaliyah’s arm to remind her cameras were everywhere, including the Netflix camera that was going to be following them for the whole weekend.

“Play nice, please,” Maggie said. “You don’t have to answer any questions yet since your first media appearance isn’t until noon, but at least look like you’re happy to see people.”

“I know, I know,” Aaliyah agreed, grabbing her backpack and slinging it over her shoulder. “I’m just not ready for everyone to ask about it.”

Maggie looked sympathetically at the 18 year old as they walked into the paddock for the first race of the 2019 season. They scanned their badges and, as expected, people immediately started asking Aaliyah about her crash and shoving microphones in her face.

“Are you nervous to drive in another grand prix after your crash in Mexico last year?” one reporter tried to ask Aaliyah.

“She’s not answering any questions right now,” Maggie explained, pushing the reporter away. “She has a scheduled media appearance at noon, you can talk to her then.”

Aaliyah could feel her throat tightening as people still tried to shout questions at her and blocked their path to the AlphaTauri hospitality. Maggie tried to explain loudly to them that they weren’t taking any questions right now, but the reporters either didn’t hear her or didn’t care. Aaliyah felt her breathing shorten as she began to hyperventilate. She looked calm to the cameras but anyone that knew her could tell she was anything but. Aaliyah tapped Maggie’s bicep three times, a signal the two had come up with that would let Maggie know they needed to get out of whatever situation asap. Maggie noticed it and immediately grabbed Aaliyah’s arm and pulled her through the swarm of reporters, no regard for who she bumped into.

Once they were out of the swarm, Maggie fell back in step beside Aaliyah so she could check on her.

“Are you okay?” she asked softly. Aaliyah shook her head in response, trying to hold back tears until they got to hospitality. “Do you want to stop walking?” Another head shake. “Alright, let’s get you to hospitality then.”

Aaliyah nodded and the two sped walked to hospitality and were greeted by cool air conditioning as they finally got away from all of the prying cameras, telling the Netflix camera to give them space. Some of the AlphaTauri workers tried to greet Aaliyah but were instantly silenced by the look Maggie gave them. She pulled Aaliyah into her driver’s room and set her down on the couch.

Aaliyah’s face was blank as she tried to focus on her breathing. Hot tears were falling down her face when she couldn’t calm down. She could faintly hear someone talking to her but couldn’t make out any of the words. Her vision was blurring and she started grabbing at her head and pulling at her hair, wanting this panic attack to stop. She felt her hands being gently pulled away from her head and soothing circles being rubbed into her palms. One of her hands was placed on the person’s, Aaliyah supposed it was Maggie’s, chest so that she could feel her breathing and replicate it. Aaliyah did her best to take slow, deep breaths and found herself calming down.

“Liyah?” she heard Maggie say. “If you can hear me, know that you’re safe. We’re in your driver room and there are no cameras and no media in here. It’s just me and you.”

Aaliyah nodded, letting Maggie know that she could hear her. Closing her eyes, Aaliyah continued to focus on her breathing and Maggie’s soothing voice. It felt like an eternity before Aaliyah opened her eyes and saw Maggie, crouched in front of her, holding her hands to ground her.

“Thank you,” Aaliyah shakily said. “I d-d-don’t kn-know what ha-hap-happened.”

There was that damn stutter again. Aaliyah didn’t miss it but knew that she got like this when she was shaken up. Just another unseen side effect of her concussion from last season.

“It’s alright, Liyah,” Maggie assured, sitting down next to the girl and rubbing circles on her back. “I should have gotten you out of there sooner, that one is on me.”

“You couldn’t have stopped it,” she said, taking time to think about what she was saying to stop her stutter. “Unfortunately the media just fucking sucks.”

Maggie laughed as Aaliyah continued to calm down from her panic attack. The two friends talked about anything not related to racing or the media until Noah, Aaliyah’s trainer, knocked on the door lightly. Maggie got up and opened the door to let the British man into the room, the Netflix cameras following him.

“How’s my favorite driver doing?” he asked as he set his bag on the massage table.

“Had a panic attack already so I’m doing peachy,” she said with a laugh and a cheeky smile.

Noah looked over to Maggie to see her response to this and Maggie just smiled and shrugged her shoulders, just glad to see Aaliyah back to herself. Maggie bid Noah and Aaliyah goodbye after reminding the two to not let Aaliyah be late to the media conference with both of them telling her they would be there on time.

“Alright,” Noah said, pulling a resistance band out of his bag for Aaliyah to use. “Why don’t you go ahead and put your hair up however you’re gonna have it for the track walk later before we get started.”

Aaliyah nodded and started putting her hair in braids while chatting with Noah.

“Shit,” Aaliyah said as she got to the end of the first braid. “I don’t have any hair ties.”

Noah was immediately handing her one he kept on his wrist at all times for her. It was something he learned very quickly after becoming her trainer, that she always lost hair ties and never found them again so he had to always have one or two on him. Aaliyah and Noah talked some more about the schedule for the day as Aaliyah finished her other braid, accepting the other hair tie from Noah.

“How are you feeling?” he asked.

“I’m ready,” Aaliyah responded. “I’m still nervous but if I don’t get back to it now and start strong, I might never be back to normal.”

“Makes sense,” Noah said, handing Aaliyah the resistance band. “I’m proud of you, though.”

Aaliyah smiled at Noah, who was more of a friend than just a trainer to her. She started doing exercises with the resistance band as she talked some more with Noah. He told her about how his fiancee, Bridget, was doing and showed her pictures of their son. Aaliyah checked her phone to see that her boyfriend had texted her. Smiling, she opened the message app and responded to his good luck message, ending it with an “I love you”.

“That Jake you’re messaging?” Noah asked the teen.

“Yeah,” she said, putting her phone away. “He couldn’t come to this weekend’s race. Said he had a shoot he and his team were doing and couldn’t change the date.”

Noah nodded, understanding that since Jake was a content creator he also had an incredibly busy schedule. That being said, he was a little annoyed because he knew Jake had promised Aaliyah he would be there for her first race of the season. Noah always looked out for Aaliyah, seeing her as his kid sister since he was almost 10 years older than her. When she had started dating Jake right after Abu Dhabi the previous year, he was hesitant to accept him but quickly realized how happy he made Aaliyah. That made him okay in Noah’s book.

“Do you want to go say hi to the other drivers?” Noah asked as he packed his bag back up.

“Yeah, that sounds fun,” Aaliyah agreed, putting her hat and sunglasses on.

The two left the driver room and walked around the paddock, a Netflix camera following them the whole time. Aaliyah saw Daniel from a mile away, walking with Kevin, and ran up to him, jumping onto his back. He stumbled a bit before holding onto her legs to keep her from falling off, both of them laughing wildly.

“Hey, kiddo!” he greeted. “How you going?”

“Doing alright,” she responded, sliding off of Daniel’s back and giving him a proper hug. “Bit of a rough morning but I’m sure it’ll get better.”

“Media pestering you?”

“Yeah.”

“Do I need to fight anyone?”

“Not yet.”

Aaliyah greeted Kevin with a hug as well, always having a soft spot for the older man. The three chatted as they walked to the media area. They were grouped together for the press conference, which Aaliyah was very excited about. Checo completed the group for the press conference and they chatted as they waited for their cue to go sit down. Checo noticed that Aaliyah’s smile didn’t quite reach her eyes but told himself he would talk to her later so that he didn’t take her focus away from the task at hand. He was glad that he was in her group for the press conference, feeling like he had a duty to help protect her from the media.

“Checo?” Aaliyah asked, speaking Spanish. “You alright?”

“Just a bit nervous for the first race of the season, mija,” he said, not wanting her to know he was worried about her. “You know how it is: the media is gonna throw a lot at us today.”

Aaliyah’s face screwed up in disgust, knowing all too well the types of questions she’d be asked today. Maggie had prepped her as best as she could but everyone knew that it would still be rough on her.

“Yeah, fuck them.”

Checo let out a loud laugh, drawing Daniel and Kevin out of their conversation to look at the two with confusion and amusement. Their PR managers quickly shushed them, knowing that if they were too loud everyone inside the press room could hear them. A few minutes later, the previous group cleared out of the press room and the group of four entered. They took their seats, Aaliyah sitting between Checo and Kevin, and put their mics on, giggling to each other about a snarky comment Aaliyah had made directly before they all walked in.

“Welcome,” a reporter said after they’d all settled down. “How are you guys?” A mix of ‘good’ and ‘excited’ were said in response. “I have a question for all of you: how are you feeling going into this race, it being the first one of the season?”

“I’ll start,” Daniel said with a laugh. “I’m excited. You know, we have a good car this year and I’m looking forward to making some pretty epic moments with the team.”

“Yeah,” Kevin agreed, going down the line. “I think it’ll be a good season. The car felt good during testing and I’m sure there will be a learning curve for it, but I’m optimistic this year.”

“I’m excited,” Aaliyah said with a grin. “It’s gonna be a great season and I’m super stoked to be teamed up with Alex this year. He seems like a great driver and I’m counting on a lot of fun battles on track.”

“It will be a very interesting season,” Checo said. “I’m looking forward to this race and I hope to earn some good points this weekend.”

The next five minutes were filled with questions for the four drivers. Aaliyah was both relieved and surprised that there had been no questions about her Mexico crash. Her relief was short-lived, however, when a particularly invasive reporter asked a question.

“I have a question for Aaliyah,” he started. “How are you feeling starting a new season so soon after your crash in Mexico? Don’t you think it’s too early for your mental state to handle the stress? Have you questioned your place and ability in this sport since your crash and the comments that everyone made about you?”

Checo was about to speak up to defend Aaliyah when she lightly touched his leg with a finger under the table, telling him it was okay.

“I don’t know, because that was definitely more than one question,” Aaliyah started, pointing out his lack of press conference etiquette. “How do you feel about trying to make someone relive trauma for your story?”

“So you’re not gonna give me an answer?” the reporter asked.

“Hell no,” Aaliyah responded with an incredulous chuckle. “If you can’t be respectful when you interview someone that recently went through something incredibly traumatic then you don’t deserve answers to your questions.”

“I’m just trying to get answers to questions we’re all wondering.”

“Stay wondering then.”

Checo gave Aaliyah a look, silently asking if she was okay. She subtly nodded back, taking a deep breath as the next reporter asked a question. Kevin kept looking over at Aaliyah throughout the rest of the media conference, making sure she was fine.

“We have time for one last question,” the facilitator told everyone.

“My question is for Aaliyah,” a female reporter spoke up. “I understand if you don’t want to talk about your crash and how you’re feeling, it was obviously traumatic for you, but I was just wondering if you would be willing to tell us a bit about how you got back on your feet afterwards. It was truly inspirational seeing you come back to the track as soon as possible last season and I would love for you to share with us what motivated you in your quick recovery.”

Aaliyah smiled softly at the woman. Finally, someone that treats me like a person. She thought.

“I appreciate you asking that in such a respectful way,” Aaliyah started, giving a pointed glare to the reporter that had been so rude to her before. “Yeah, honestly it has been a super long healing process for me. Physically, I was completely healed before Abu Dhabi. Mentally,” a pause. “Mentally I’m still healing. Like I’ve said, and been very open about, it was incredibly traumatic. Thankfully I’ve had an awesome support system with my friends, family, my team, and my boyfriend. It’s really because of them that I was able to get back in the car so soon after my crash. Plus, I’ve always said that part of the reason I’m here is to show girls that they can do whatever they want and that nothing can keep them down for long. So long answer short: I had lots of support from friends and family and wanted to make sure I’m a good role model for other girls and women.”

“Thank you,” the reporter responded. “I wish you all the best as you continue to recover.”

Aaliyah nodded in thanks as the facilitator ended the press conference. The four drivers took their mics off and walked out of the room, meeting their PR managers outside. Maggie gave Aaliyah a hug, sorry she couldn’t stop the first reporter from asking about her crash.

“Liyah,” Kevin started, getting the young driver’s attention. “You okay?”

“Honestly,” Aaliyah said, side-hugging Maggie. “Not really. But I’ll get over it. It’s not too different from any other season where reporters don’t respect me.”

“That’s not something you should get used to,” Kevin noted.

“I know,” she said, resting her head against Maggie’s shoulder. The blonde wrapped an arm around her friend for comfort. “But if I don’t get used to it, I’ll continue to be affected by it. And I’m sick of crying after every press conference and interview.”

The three drivers looked at her with a tinge of pity. Even though they knew that media duties were always rough for the 18 year old, they were unaware of the extent of the toll it took on her. Maggie glanced at her watch and pulled Aaliyah away from the uncomfortable situation by saying that she had to do her track walk soon and needed to meet up with her team. Aaliyah gave them all a hug in parting and said she’d talk to them later that evening.

“I’m gonna get that reporter fired,” Maggie said, referring to the rude reporter. Aaliyah laughed as Maggie continued her incredibly unprofessional rant. “Seriously! Who does he think he is? Talking to you like that. I’ll shave my head before I let anyone disrespect you like that.”

Aaliyah laughed loudly as the two friends walked back to the AlphaTauri hospitality. The two made it back and Alex was sitting in the lounge area, eating some of the snacks available to them. Aaliyah smiled as she parted ways with Maggie, who was likely off to plan something for Aaliyah to do, to sit down across from her rookie teammate.

“Hey, Alex!” she greeted as she sat down. “How are you?”

“Oh hey, Liyah!” he said around a mouthful of crisps. “I’m doing alright, less nervous today than I thought I would be, but I’m sure I’ll make up for it tomorrow.”

Aaliyah laughed a bit at his response. It was odd, she was the younger one on the team but was the more experienced driver. Alex looked up to her to follow her lead. Not literally of course, Aaliyah was much too short for that to be a possibility.

“It’s honestly not that bad once you’re in the car,” Aaliyah assured, sitting back on the couch and crossing her legs. “Yes, the cars are different from other Formula series’ but it’s racing just like you’ve done your whole life. You’ll do grand, I’m sure.”

“I appreciate that, thank you,” Alex said honestly. “How was your press conference, by the way?”

“Long answer or short answer?” Aaliyah asked, rolling her eyes.

“We’ve got time.”

Aaliyah laughed at Alex’s response before telling him about the press conference, going into great detail (per his request) about the rude reporter she had called out. Alex was just as appalled as Maggie and was ready to get up and punch the reporter for his treatment of Aaliyah.

“He really said that to you?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah,” she responded. “I was kind of expecting questions about it, but definitely nothing like that. It kind of shook me up a bit.”

“Understandable.” A pause. “I’m gonna fight him.”

“I think you’ll have to get in line,” Aaliyah joked. “Checo, Dan, and Maggie have first dibs. Maggie said something about getting him fired and shaving her head before she let someone talk to me like that.” Alex laughed at this, easily seeing the fiery blonde saying that. “It was all very unprofessional but sweet nonetheless so I’m not gonna snitch on her.”

Maggie, of course, chose that moment to walk back into the lounge area. Aaliyah laughed at the timing as her PR manager raised an eyebrow at her and went to stand behind Aaliyah on the couch. She rested her hands on her shoulders, gripping them lightly, before speaking.

“What’s this I hear about you snitching on me?” she asked.

“No, I said I wasn’t snitching on you,” Aaliyah clarified with a chuckle.

Maggie released Aaliyah from her grasp before immediately jumping back to business. Alex laughed at the interaction between the two, clearly seeing how close they were. Maggie finished telling Aaliyah her schedule for the rest of the day and stayed to chat for a few minutes longer.

“How long have you guys known each other?” Alex asked.

“I think we met my second to last year of karting?” Aaliyah asked Maggie to clarify.

“Yeah,” Maggie agreed. “It was one of the races where you beat my brother. He was not happy about it but I remember thinking I wanted to be friends with you.”

“And now she won’t leave me alone,” she joked to Alex.

Maggie smacked Aaliyah on the back of the head, rolling her eyes. Aaliyah let out an undignified noise at the contact and rubbed the back of her head where it had been hit, protesting that she recently had a concussion. Alex let out a loud laugh at the two’s interaction. Maggie gave Aaliyah a light tap on top of her head and said goodbye, saying she was leaving to get lunch for her and Aaliyah.

“Were you nervous before your first race weekend in F1?” Alex quietly asked the younger girl once Maggie had left.

Aaliyah smiled at Alex softly. She knew the nerves and the media were likely getting to him much more than he had been letting on.

“I was terrified,” Aaliyah said with a chuckle. “I was paired up with a more experienced and older driver, I was driving for the junior team of a team that had recently been champions for four consecutive years, and I was gonna be surrounded by a bunch of guys I didn’t know. Obviously my experience is different from yours, but if I ended up doing well, you’ll do just fine. You’re more experienced than I was when I joined.”

“Thanks, Liyah,” he said sincerely.

“Of course, Alex,” she responded.

“Is Jake going to be here at all this weekend?” Alex asked as he shoved more crisps into his mouth.

“No,” Aaliyah said, tired smile on her face. “He said he had a shoot he was doing for a big video and they couldn’t change the shoot date so close to it.”

“Didn’t you say he promised he’d be here for your first race of the season?”

“I did say that, yes. Apparently money is more important than supporting me and attending our first race weekend as a couple.”

“That’s messed up.”

Aaliyah nodded, clearly annoyed by her boyfriend’s decisions. As Alex looked at her, his eyebrows scrunched together in annoyance. He had met Jake a few times during pre-season events and each time made him wonder what on earth Aaliyah saw in him. She was so much more mature, successful, and overall pleasant to be around than the guy she chose to date. They seemed happy, so Alex didn’t say anything. He really wanted to though. Aaliyah already felt like his sister and even though he knew she didn’t need him to protect her, he felt like he had an obligation to look out for her.

At that moment, Aaliyah’s phone rang. She looked at the caller ID and saw that Max was calling her. Sighing, she put the phone to her ear.

“What do you need?” she asked.

“How come you think I need something every time I call you? Can’t I just want to talk to my best friend?” the Dutch man asked.

“You can but you never do,” Aaliyah responded with a laugh.

“I’m coming over and we’re talking about it.”

The smile fell off of Aaliyah’s face after hearing that. She knew Max knew her better than almost everyone, besides her family and Lance, and he knew how much she was really affected by the media that day.

“Okay.”

“Okay. See you soon.”

Aaliyah sighed and ended the call. Alex looked at her, worried.

“What was that about?” he asked.

“Max being an annoyingly good best friend,” she responded.

That was an unexpected twist for Alex, but he decided to leave whatever the two friends were going to talk about between them. Aaliyah and Alex made small talk in the lounge area until Max barged into the AlphaTauri hospitality and made eye contact with Aaliyah. Alex laughed as Aaliyah hung her head and followed Max to her driver’s room as he scolded her for not telling him what happened in the press conference and how he had to find out from Daniel. He closed the door to her room and crossed his arms as he looked at her. She took her hat off and set it down as she turned to look at Max, more accurately to avoid his gaze by looking anywhere but him.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked.

“I was going to tell you,” Aaliyah started. “I just hadn’t gotten around to it yet.”

“Aaliyah,” he sighed.

“I know! Okay?! I know!” she snapped. “You told me to tell you if something like this happened and you told me to not be snarky. But I couldn’t help it! He was being an ass!”

Max waited for Aaliyah to calm down from her outburst, knowing she needed it and wouldn’t do this in front of anyone else aside from Lance, Checo, and maybe Pierre. Aaliyah looked at him and Max saw how vulnerable she really felt. He said her name softly and pulled her into a tight hug. She let her tears fall, completely overwhelmed by the day already. Max held his friend until he knew she was okay and she started pulling away. He watched as she wiped her face free of tears and turned to look in the mirror in her driver room to wipe away any mascara that had smudged.

“You feel better now?” he asked.

“Yeah,” she replied, grabbing her water bottle and taking a sip. “Thanks for always being there for me.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” Max said, giving the younger girl another hug. “You’re stuck with me.”

“There’s worse people to be stuck with,” she joked. “Can you even imagine if I was stuck with Robert?”

Max laughed out loud at this. It’s not that either of them disliked Kubica, but he definitely would not be at the top of Aaliyah’s list of people she’d go to when she needed someone. The two friends waited in Aaliyah’s driver room until she was completely composed and no longer looked like she had just been crying. Aaliyah led Max to the front door of the hospitality and gave him a hug before sending him on his merry way. Turning back around, Alex was scrolling on social media on the couch and gave Aaliyah a smile as she walked back over to the sitting area. She followed his lead and pulled out her phone to scroll through various media feeds, eventually settling on watching videos on YouTube.

At some point Maggie and Alex’s PR manager brought food back for lunch and the four of them ate together in the lounge area. When they were done, they cleaned up and Aaliyah went to her driver room to grab her hat and came back out to see her team ready to go to the track for their track walk. Aaliyah put her hat on and grabbed a water bottle from Maggie’s hand. Putting on her sunglasses, Aaliyah told her team she was ready and they all bid their goodbyes to those present in the hospitality and made their way to the track.

Walking through the paddock was rough. Aaliyah was the hot topic of the season start despite the season’s three rookies, the dramatic end of her Mexico Grand Prix the prior season not losing any of its headlining ability yet, causing reporters to flock to her in the hopes they could glean a bit of that popularity for themselves. Aaliyah did her best to ignore the media as her team formed a sort of barricade around her to protect her from prying eyes and loud, invasive questions. When they finally got to the track, her team allowed Aaliyah to walk onto it first to escape the reporters. They quickly followed her lead and began their track walk.

Aaliyah couldn’t help but let her mind wander a bit on the track. She always ended up making her team do multiple laps on track so that she could get a good feel for it, something that the media had lovingly dubbed “fortune telling” (the term going hand-in-hand with the nickname “Miss Fortune” that they had also given her) since she almost always had a more accurate reading of the track than her competitors.

“What do you think, Liyah?” Jacques asked his driver, his British accent a familiar voice to her ears.

Aaliyah was snapped out of her thoughts and looked up at her race engineer with wide eyes. She smiled sheepishly and Jacques laughed, knowing she didn’t have a clue what they had been talking about.

“Sorry,” she said. “I didn’t quite catch that.”

“It’s alright,” Jacques said with a smile. “I was asking what you thought about this turn and how you think you’ll be able to go with it?”

Aaliyah stood still and examined the entrance, apex, and exit of the turn with careful eyes. It was a sight to see, the girl becoming incredibly serious very quickly, a sight that her team tried to never take for granted. They enjoyed watching her process, especially because she always gave them great insight about the practicalities of the track and how she could realistically drive it. Crouching down, Aaliyah placed a hand on the track lightly. She wasn’t a superstitious person, but she was a little stitious. She didn’t think the track could literally talk to her, but she could almost feel how the track felt on those days. It didn’t make sense to any of the other drivers or the engineers, some of them regularly teasing her for it, but ultimately they accepted that her readings were pretty accurate more often than not. Aaliyah studied the track with scrutiny, hoping to glean any information that she could from it.

“How does it feel?” Jacques asked the girl.

“Not sure yet,” Aaliyah responded. “Not bad, not good, just… nothing right now. May need to do a few more laps before I can really tell.”

Jacques nodded, accepting her answer. She would always tell him what the track felt like to her so that he could change strategies accordingly. Her strategists also made sure to take her readings into account, knowing all too well what could happen if they didn’t. On good weekends, Aaliyah described the track as warm, not like warm weather, more like the fuzzy feeling you get when surrounded by the people you love. An inviting feeling, for sure. Those were the weekends that everyone could expect her to do extraordinarily well and she normally delivered the expected or better results. Naturally, those were Aaliyah’s favorites. Some weekends, the track didn’t feel warm, but it also didn’t feel like the cold that filled her when the track felt bad. Those weekends were a toss-up about what would happen. When the track felt bad, it was a cold that washed over Aaliyah as if she was in primary school and about to give a speech. It made her nervous, but she wasn’t filled with dread. Those races, more often than not, she didn’t deliver the results that were expected of her.

The worst of the feelings, Aaliyah had only experienced a handful of times in her entire racing career, but it was an unforgettable feeling. It was the cold dread that didn’t just wash over her, it poured down on her continually the entire weekend. Imagine standing on the edge of an unstable cliff with no safety gear ensuring your safe return home and certain doom if you were to fall. That was the worst feeling Aaliyah had ever experienced. She felt it at Mexico the year prior and back in Formula Renault once or twice. Every time, she had a bad crash and didn’t finish the race.

Aaliyah was jumpscared out of her reverie by Daniel Ricciardo biking past her with a loud “Whooop!” Placing a hand on her chest to calm down, Aaliyah flipped Daniel off as he sped away. He glanced back at the girl and his grin somehow got bigger as he laughed loudly at her reaction.

“I hope you fall!” Aaliyah yelled after him, not really meaning it. “Aussies, am I right?”

Her team laughed with the British girl before getting on with the rest of the track walk. They walked around the track twice so that they could get better bearings on the track conditions. Deciding they got all the information they needed, Aaliyah’s team told her they were going to head back to the garage to come up with a plan for practice and to let them know when she got a better read on the track herself. Noah stayed behind with her to chat as the rest of their team left.

“You get a good reading yet?” Noah asked his friend.

“It’s weird,” Aaliyah started, looking at Noah. “For a second there I thought it felt pretty good but now? Now I just feel nothing. Not good or bad.”

“We’ll let the strategy guys know then,” he said with a smile. “I’m always amazed by your readings, have I ever told you that?”

“You’ve mentioned it once or twice,” she responded with a chuckle. “I could stand to hear it more often. Too many people say it’s weird.”

“Fuck them, then,” Noah grimaced. “It’s incredible because you’re almost always more accurate than the others.”

“You’re too good to me, Noah,” Aaliyah said with a smile.

“Nah,” he disagreed, pulling the girl into his side in a hug. “I’m not good enough to you. Even if you’re a dumbass sometimes.”

“There it is,” she laughed, knowing he could never be sentimental for too long.

The two laughed as they made their way off the track and into the garage to greet the engineers. Aaliyah said hello to both sides of the AlphaTauri garage before heading back to the hospitality to do some of the social media duties Maggie had told her about prior to the track walk. She waved to some fans and took pictures with some people that were in the paddock before finally reaching the refuge that was the hospitality.

Noah let her walk in first to escape the mass of people and cameras that were trying to follow her. Alex was no longer in the sitting area of the hospitality but Maggie was there to greet Aaliyah and Noah. The three went to Aaliyah’s driver room to get Aaliyah ready for the social media videos. Aaliyah sat down on the couch and took off her hat and sunglasses, setting them on a small table next to her.

“Drink water,” Maggie told Aaliyah, handing her a water bottle. “You look pale.”

“Thanks, mum,” Aaliyah said with a light smirk.

She didn’t actually argue with Maggie and drank the water given to her. Noah and Aaliyah chatted as Maggie finalized a few things on her phone and let in one of the team photographers to take some natural pictures to start off the weekend. Maggie finally finished whatever it was she had been doing and turned to Aaliyah.

“Okay, Liyah,” she started. “You have one more social media video to make showing off your helmet for the year and then you’ll be free for the rest of the day.”

“Free as in I get to leave or free as in I have to stay in case something comes up?” she asked with a cheeky smile.

“Free as in you get to leave, brat,” Maggie said, lightly smacking Aaliyah’s head with her folder. “Your helmet is in the bag on the table. Also make sure you bring a new sharpie tomorrow, you’ll have to sign some things before and after practice.”

Aaliyah nodded as she got up and grabbed her helmet for the 2019 season. It was her favorite helmet that she’d had so far, with swirling reds and yellows adorning the majority of the surface area. Her six-year-old brother, Leo, had helped her design it with input from their ten-year-old brother, Hunter. She sat back down on the couch and held the helmet in her hands to show it off to the camera that was about to be recording her. Maggie gave her a thumbs up, telling her it had started and Aaliyah began talking.

“Hello, everyone, Liyah here!” Aaliyah started with a grin. “I hope you’re all as excited as me for the start of the new season and I wanted to share with you guys my helmet for the 2019 season.” She lifted it up higher to better show the camera what it looked like. “It was actually designed by my two younger brothers and refined by my sister and myself. My youngest brother really clung to the Red Bull colors of yellow and red and did some sweeping waves for the beach town we grew up in in England and my other brother included a paw print of the family dog that he somehow coerced her to cooperate for.” She turned the helmet so the visor was facing her and pointed out the paw print with the dog’s name underneath to the camera. “This helmet doesn’t have some huge symbolism or anything, it’s mostly a testament to my family and how much they mean to me. It’s really a way for me to stay close to them while I’m on track, which is something I started last year after Mexico when I put a picture of them in my helmet.” She let the helmet go lower in frame as she finished the video off. “Anyways, thank you guys for your support and I can’t wait to see you all this season! Liyah out.”

She gave a two finger salute and Maggie ended the recording.

“Nicely done, Liyah,” she said, turning the camera off to put it away. “Alright, I want to head back to the hotel so that I can edit this and get it up right away on your channels and send it to Mike for the AlphaTauri channels. Once you’re packed up, we’ll head out, okay?”

Aaliyah nodded and got up to pack her stuff up. It was a quick process since most of it was still in her bag. Putting her helmet away and zipping up her bag, Aaliyah was ready and slung her backpack over her shoulder. Noah and Maggie both stood up and the three walked out together, saying goodbye to those that were in the common area of the hospitality. They walked out to the carpark, completely ignoring any reporters that were being obnoxious and yelling questions at Aaliyah. She did, however, stop for photos with some fans and signed some things when asked. They finally made it out to the carpark and Maggie and Aaliyah said goodbye to Noah, knowing they probably wouldn’t see him again before the next morning.

“You cool if I drive?” Aaliyah asked Maggie, knowing that sometimes Maggie couldn’t handle someone else driving her.

“I appreciate the concern,” Maggie said. “But I never mind you driving me. Noah on the other hand…”

Maggie trailed off and the two girls laughed as they put their bags in the boot of the car and got in. It was a relatively short drive back to the hotel and the music that Maggie played made it seem that much shorter. Once they got to the hotel and parked, they grabbed their bags out of the car and walked in together. Their rooms were on the same floor so they accompanied each other in the elevator and separated to go down the hallways that held their respective rooms.

“Thank god,” Aaliyah said quietly as she unlocked her hotel room and walked inside.

She immediately dumped her bag on the chair in the living room and went straight back to the bedroom so that she could get ready for either a bath or shower, she hadn’t decided which one she wanted yet. She had taken off her shoes and belt and was about to take off her shirt when there was a knock at her door. Quietly groaning, Aaliyah walked to her front door. Looking through the peephole, she saw Carlos standing at her door.

The two were pretty good friends, having been teammates during Aaliyah’s rookie season with Toro Rosso, and often checked up with each other at least once every race weekend. There were some exceptions of course, but generally they would make a point to see each other outside of the paddock every race weekend.

Aaliyah sighed a bit and opened the door to her friend.

“Do you do this often, Sainz?” she asked teasingly.

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused.

“Knock on women’s hotel doors immediately after they get back,” Aaliyah chuckled.

Carlos’ eyes widened a bit, worried he was intruding now, and he started to turn to leave while talking.

“Sorry,” he started. “I didn’t realize you had only just got back from the circuit. I can leave you for the night?”

Aaliyah laughed and grabbed his arm, stopping him from actually leaving.

“I’m kidding, Carlos,” she said in Spanish. “You are more than welcome to keep me company for a while tonight.”

Carlos smiled as Aaliyah gestured for him to go into her hotel room. He walked in and gawked at the size.

“Your room is this big?” he asked incredulously. “Mine looks like a closet compared.”

“It’s the Red Bull money,” Aaliyah laughed as the door closed behind her. “That and the brand new sponsor.”

Carlos let out a hum of agreement as Aaliyah went to her bedroom and grabbed clothes to change into, announcing to her friend that she would be out shortly. She closed the door of the bedroom and quickly changed into more comfortable clothes and tossed one of Jake’s hoodies over her shirt, the piece of clothing dwarfing her given the height difference between her and her boyfriend. Aaliyah pulled her hair out of the braids and into a ponytail before walking back out to Carlos.

“Is that Jake’s?” Carlos asked.

“Yeah,” Aaliyah said in Spanish. “He gave it to me before I left for Australia.”

“Didn’t he say at dinner last month that he would join you this weekend?” he asked, confused as to why she was alone for the race weekend.

“He did,” she responded, clearly upset by the fact that he wasn’t there as she plopped onto the couch and set her feet in his lap at the other end. “But he said that they had a video shoot that they couldn’t change the date for and apparently it’s a huge one.”

“But still,” Carlos started, his face screwing up in distaste for Jake’s actions. “That’s not right to cancel on you like that, especially since it would be your first race after announcing your relationship.” Aaliyah nodded with a tired smile but Carlos wasn’t done with his rant yet. “Not to mention all of the times that you didn’t go to parties and events because you were going to one of his video shoots. He needs to do the same for you.”

“You’re preaching to the choir right now, Carlos,” Aaliyah said with a dry laugh. “But there’s nothing I can do about it right now and I want to have that conversation when neither of us have some big event happening.”

Carlos hummed in agreement with Aaliyah’s plan and the two fell into a comfortable silence. They sat like that, Aaliyah’s feet still in Carlos’ lap and his arm resting on her calves, for a few minutes before Aaliyah started to reach for the remote to turn the tv on. As she grabbed it, Carlos began to speak again.

“If I’m being honest,” he started, making Aaliyah pause her action. “This wasn’t just a social call.” She looked at him, confused, as she set the remote back down. “I heard what happened today at your press conference. I wanted to make sure you were okay.”

Aaliyah shook her head as she let it rest against the back of the couch.

“Is everyone talking about that or something?” she asked, switching back to English and clearly annoyed by the interaction being the gossip of the day. “Who did you even hear about it from?”

“Well,” Carlos started, hesitating to say how he heard of it. With a pointed look from Aaliyah his resolve crumbled and he spoke. “I heard it from Lando who said he heard it from George who said he heard it from Alex.”

“Of course it was the rookies,” Aaliyah said.

There was more silence before Carlos broke the silence. He knew that he shouldn’t have brought it up but he also knew that he needed to talk to Aaliyah about it.

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay, Liyah,” he said. “I know how that kind of stuff affects you. We were teammates after all.”

“I know, Carlos,” Aaliyah said, smiling softly at him. “I do appreciate it, despite what it sounds like.” There was a pause as Aaliyah thought about her response. “I’m doing as well as I can,” she settled on. “It sucks for sure, but I’m alright. I held it together and got through the rest of the conference, which is what matters.”

“What matters is you and your mental health,” Carlos interjected, upset that she was so nonchalant about it. “You say you’re fine, but you don’t even know how bad it’s affecting you. You accept it as an inevitable event that you’ll be disrespected and that shouldn’t be the case.”

Carlos was getting so heated about this that he switched back to Spanish to get his point across. At his comment, Aaliyah stood up and looked down at Carlos.

“Do you really think I wouldn’t stop it if I could?!” she exclaimed. “I would love it if I didn’t have to deal with this every single day of my fucking life. Unfortunately, I don’t have that kind of power because nobody fucking respects me! Of course I shouldn’t accept it as inevitable, but until others also stand up for me it will be! It will always be something I have to deal with just because of my gender and choice of profession. I know that, I accept that. You need to get over your self righteous self and accept it too if you’re not going to try to help make a change.” Aaliyah was out of breath at the end of the rant but she wasn’t done yet. “I understand that you don’t get it, but if you really want things to change, you have to actually be a part of it instead of just telling me how things should be.”

Carlos was left in a stunned silence. He hadn’t expected Aaliyah to react in that way when he brought it up and he wholly regretted asking her about it in that moment. He was about to say something when Aaliyah cut him off.

“I think you need to leave, Carlos,” she said, not in a cold way, just a frustrated one. “It’s been a long day for both of us. We should get some rest before practice tomorrow.”

Carlos got up and left in a flurry of hushed “I’m sorry”. Aaliyah sighed as the door clicked behind him and plopped back down on the couch. It didn’t help that she had already had to deal with Max about the press conference that day as well as the slight twinge of betrayal from finding out Alex was one of the ones that spread the gossip. It wasn’t like she expected for nobody to learn about it, it was televised after all. She had just hoped that it wouldn’t be the source of paddock gossip, she’d already been the center of that too many times.

Aaliyah got up, realizing she still hadn’t showered, and walked to the bathroom to clean off from the day. The Australian sun and heat didn’t do her many favors, leaving her a sweating mess after the day at the track. She showered off, finally being able to relax from the stressful day she had. Setting an alarm, Aaliyah got into bed, hoping to get some rest before getting into the car the following morning.

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A/N: If you made it all the way down here, thank you for reading! I appreciate you! Let me know what you thought of this chapter and let me know if you would like to be put on the taglist! This is a story I have been thinking about and writing for a hot minute now so it seems kinda weird to be sharing this story with everyone else now XD Anywho, I hope you enjoyed <3 See you all later!

Cazza out (^▽^)

#cazza writes #f1 #f1 imagine #formula 1 #cs55 #carlos sainz x oc #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz jr #Fortune Favors the Brave #f1 fanfic #f1 fan fiction #carlos sainz x driver!oc #slow burn #multi part fic

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