Chapter Text
I sped out of the pit lane as soon as the mechanics installed a fresh set of tires on my car. “Max is seven seconds ahead of you, Y/N” I heard Hugh say through my earpiece.
“Copy,” I stated, focusing on the fourth turn. I was in P4, and Max was leading the race as usual. I quickly glanced at the side view mirrors and noticed a red car closing in on me.
“What fucking Ferrari is closing in on my ass, Hugh?” I shouted to the mic, hoping Hugh could hear me through the loud engine noise.
“That Ferrari is Sainz, he is about to overtake you. Push Y/N.” Hugh demanded. I groaned and veered to the middle of the track, in an attempt to stop him from passing me.
No, the fuck you aren’t.
I wasn’t going to let that no-good Ferrari bastard win, especially after his outrageous comment about our rivalry last race weekend.
“She gets too much praise, look at her, she didn’t even end up on the podium this race.” That is what Carlos said to the press after his
astounding
win in Melbourne. If Max hadn’t DNF’d he wouldn’t be up there in the first place! It was lap 48 out of 51 and I was determined to get second. I was taken out of my trance by Hugh’s guidance. “Three laps to go, Russell is just up ahead of you. Overtake him on the next turn if you can.”
“Copy that,” I said, pressing my foot against the pedal.
With the turn ahead of me, and Russell in sight, I managed to overtake him from the inside. I saw him swerve off the track and crash his car into the barriers, causing my unlucky number 55 to slow down. “Holy shit, how does he always manage to do that?” I laughed through the radio, getting ignored by Hugh who simply mentioned that I was now P3 with one last chance to overtake my dear friend, Lando, and earn those points. Just as the chequered flag came into my view I slammed the gas pedal down and steered slightly to the right, waving to Norris as I passed him. “Great race, Y/N. You finished in P2” I heard Hugh cheer.
I followed Max into the now closed-off pit lane. A man signaled where I should stop and as soon as he said it was all good for me to get out of the car, I excitedly propped myself up and waved to the crowd and the Red Bull team. Christian practically ran up to both me and Max. “Good job you two, that was a great race! I’m so proud of you both,” Christian congratulated us by hugging us tightly.
We were instructed to go to the cool-down room, I put my arm around Lando. “I’m sorry for overtaking you, Norris. Y’know I love you, buddy,” I apologized and squeezed his shoulder. Sitting down in the golf buggy, Lando replied, “It’s all good, as long as I’m on the podium. I’ll get you back next time though!” The three of us laughed, and all congratulated each other on our results.
The second we arrived in the cool-down room, I chugged down an entire bottle of water in less than a minute. “Jesus, Y/N, watch out, we don’t want you choking before the podium ceremony!” Max remarked with a concerned look on his face. Lando threw his Pirelli cap on and laid down on the cool floor. “It’s so fucking hot in that car, I don’t blame you, Y/N.”
“Exactly! See, Max? He gets it…” I rolled my eyes at him and pressed my back against the wall, sliding down to the floor. The TV in the room started playing clips from the race, including overtakes, blockages, and Russell’s unfortunate but necessary crash.
Once the results were confirmed by the FIA, Max, Lando and I all lined up before the podium stage. “You got your flag, Max?” I asked the man standing behind me. “Yup, right here Y/N,” He waved the Dutch flag in my face, tickling my nose. The crowd’s booming cheers calmed down and I knew it was time to shine. “In third place, Lando Norris, from England!” The announcer’s muffled speech became clear and I patted Lando on the back. “Don’t break our trophies!” Max joked as we cheered him on.
Knowing I was up next, I zipped up my race suit and straightened my back. Within seconds, I heard my name get announced and I stepped forward onto the stage. The crowd’s yells boomed in my ears. I greeted the announcer as well as the people presenting the rewards. Stepping up onto the second-place podium, I waved to all the fans and the Red Bull team, grinning widely.
Finally, Max was announced, “The winner, Max Verstappen!” and came running out with the Dutch flag on his shoulders. “And for him, and the honorable Red Bull Racing team, the Dutch and Austrian national anthems!” I took off my cap and put my hands behind my back just as the Dutch anthem started playing.
As soon as the shortened versions of the anthems stopped playing, we were presented with our trophies. Max got his trophy and medal first, and then Lando and I got our smaller copies of Max’s grand trophy. We set them aside and picked up the already open bottles of champagne. “And now, Les Toreadors!” I started shaking mine as soon as the announcer said that. The sparkling gold alcohol sprayed out onto the crowd — I immediately aimed my bottle at Max and covered him from head to toe. In revenge, both Lando and Max teamed up to drench me in the sweet champagne. “On three, one, two… three!” Lando shouted and we all took swigs from the large bottles.
The three of us posed for photos before leaving the stage and proceeding to the TV pen for the interviews and post-race press conference. “Alice! I just want to get this over with,” I greeted Alice, my press officer, with a hug before entering the TV pen with her by my side. I waved and smiled at the cameras, giving quick but short answers to questions thrown at me.
Stepping inside of the conference room, journalists and photographs kept piling in — filling the room to its maximum capacity. I sat down next to Max, and Lando sat on his left side. We were equipped with microphones and given water bottles. “Welcome to the post-race press conference, today we have, Lando Norris in third place, in second place, Y/N L/N, and taking the 56th win, our winner Max Verstappen. We’re ready to hear the first question,” The conference host said.
A gentleman in the back stood up and was handed a microphone, “Congratulations on yet another win Max! That looked like the perfect race for you, is that how it felt in the cockpit?” Max tapped the microphone once, before replying with a genuine smile on his face. “The car has been performing well, even better than expected. I’m very pleased to win here.”
I kept fidgeting with the microphone in my hands, trying not to drop it by accident.
“That podium, must have felt great after Australia two weeks ago, no? That goes for both you and Y/N.”
Max turned to me, giving me a chance to answer but I simply gestured for him to go first, not wanting to steal the spotlight off of the winner.
Max cleared his throat and said, “Well, uh, it was a huge win this weekend for not only the two of us but the Red Bull Racing team as well. I think that both of us are glad to earn some large points after the misfortune in Australia.”
I nodded along whilst listening to his answer, before picking up the microphone myself and giving the press my opinion, “I mean, despite the race being quite chaotic… I think we did an excellent job proving ourselves to our team and the rest of the grid.”
The journalist thanked us and sat back down, giving someone else a chance to ask a question.
I kept zoning in and out as the painfully white, stage lights blinded me. I tried my best to pay attention to Lando’s answers and the jokes he was making with Max, who was just as exhausted. Our press officers seemed to notice our obvious disinterest in the conference because they started signaling to the host to start wrapping things up.
Just as the host was about to speak up, a woman stood up and promptly asked a question, not wanting to miss her chance. “Y/N, Two weeks ago, during the post-race interviews, Carlos Sainz, when asked about your rivalry, had commented, and I quote, ‘She gets too much praise, look at her, she didn’t even end up on the podium this race.’ Have you heard of this statement and how do you feel about his comment on your rivalry?” A journalist with a thick German accent asked me. Suddenly, all the cameras were on me and everyone was ready to note down my answer. Lando stifled his laugh as Max jabbed him in the side with his elbow.
I lifted my microphone and took a long second to answer, “Yes, I heard of Carlos’ bold statement and all I have to say in response is that our rivalry is… complex. And that it’s okay to feel threatened by a younger driver, especially when we all know you’re nearing retirement.” In not even a matter of seconds, the cameras started rapidly flashing and clicking. Frantic journalists shot up out of their seats, shouting to try and get their questions answered.
“That is the end of the post-race press conference, thank you, everyone, for coming!” The host quickly announced and we were quickly escorted out of the building, back out to the TV pen by our press officers. Shit. I probably shouldn’t have said that. The moment we left the building, the sound of camera shutters going off filled the air, and lights flashed. Alice grabbed my arm and attempted to drag me out of the boulevard of interviews before being blocked by the one person I did not want to talk to, Carlos Sainz. “Ah, Y/N! I didn’t take you for the petty type, you know?” Carlos remarked with an arrogant smirk plastered across his face. I rolled my eyes, trying to keep my cool, “What can I say? You don’t become the world champion by being used as a doormat. Now if you would excuse me, I have a party to get to.” I pushed past him and reunited with Alice, before heading to my car.