🏎🏎

Racing kept me sane.

Call it what you want, for me, it was love at first sight.

People my age have to wait years before they experience their first love.

For me, I had my first taste at the young age of 3.

I fell in love with adrenaline. A nasty lover, really. She would leave me as quickly as she came. She loved toying with my mind.

I had a habit of wanting what I couldn't have.

Drinking, driving, fucking—all adrenaline generating activities to keep the insanity in me sane.

But lately, there seemed to be something else that was driving me insane.

And that happened to be a certain brunette named Dakota Sanchez.

God, she was running circles in my mind. No matter how hard I tried to convince myself that I didn't want anything to do with her, she always popped into my thoughts.

She had arrived at the track early this week on Tuesday, an hour after I had. True to her word, she avoided me like the plague. I hate to admit it, but I had tried to catch her eye several times with no avail.

My phone lit up, grabbing my attention.

A twinge of disappointment sparked in my chest as I saw the twitter notification.

They were brutal. I had barely gotten any sleep during the week, obsessively checking social media. It was a terrible habit, but I just had to know what people were saying about me. Not knowing drove me insane.

Aaron frowned when he saw the data collected by my sleep tracking ring.

"What's going on, mate? Are you homesick or something?" he asked, knowing my time was split between racing and work at the MTC. I hadn't been home since the season started.

"No, I'm fine. Just a rough week," I shrugged.

"Are you sure? You need to be fit to drive."

"Yeah, just been a rough couple of days."

"You know you can talk to me, right? Even if it's something small."

"Thanks," I gave him a forced smile as he pat my shoulder.

He left my room shortly after, only for Lando to come knocking at my door.

"Hey, mind if I come in?"

"No, unless Aaron sent you."

"Why would he?" he asked, falling down on the couch.

"No reason. Ready for the weekend?" I asked, changing the subject.

"I am. But are you?" he countered, "You're being slated on social media."

"I'm aware," I grumbled.

He let out a sigh, leaning back against the wall and folding his arms.

"Just ignore it, Alé. You know how good you are. If you didn't deserve a seat in F1, Zak wouldn't have signed you."

"Yeah."

"Come on, you need to have a little faith in yourself. This has been your dream since you were a little kid. Make it count. I'll see you on track," Lando said, slapping my bicep before slipping through the door.

Once again, I was alone in my room.

Moments passed before my phone began ringing.

I really can't catch a break, can I?

I bit my lip, debating on accepting the FaceTime call from my father.

"Bongiorno," I greeted.

"Bongiorno Alessandro! Tutto bene?"

"Everything's good. Ready for the race this weekend."

"That's good. How does the car feel?"

"Good, just a little tough to handle in the high speed corners. But the mechanics will tweak it."

"Good, good," he spoke, I could see him nodding his head.

My father was always there for every race since I started karting. Now he was always a phone call away.

"Do you know the track well?"

"Yes, I spent two hours on the simulator too."

He hummed in response and I smiled, knowing he was pacing in front of the TV.

"Bene Alessandro, eyes open at every corner. Go fast and be careful."

"Si, papa," I sighed, a nostalgic feeling settling at his words.

"Mom wants to talk to you."

"Alessandro! You look so tired? Are you sick?" was the first thing my mother said when she saw my face.

"No, no, mama. I'm fine, just feeling a little headache. I took medicine, I will be fine."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes, I'm sure. Don't worry."

"When are you coming home?"

"How about I come after Austria?"

My mother cheered, making me laugh a little. She was always excited when I came home.

"Are you ready for the race? We're watching qualifying live," my father said, excitement clear in his voice. Usually they would be working at the restaurant, but I guess this weekend they decided to take a break.

"Yeah, wish me luck! I have to go now, ti amo."

"Ti amo, mi amore."

My stomach churned as I threw my phone onto the couch.

My parents had sacrificed everything for me, to get me to where I am today. And I couldn't help but feel like I was letting them down. I was putting all their effort to waste.

Knowing they were watching me with hope and pride made my head spin.

I yanked the door to my drivers room open, stumbling into the garage. I had an hour before qualifying started.

Free practice had been good, Lando and I had been at the top of the times. That meant the McLaren did well on this track. That also meant high expectation from the team going into the weekend.

I felt like I was going to be sick.

My feet pounded the painted lines on the pit lane, the colours blurring under my feet.

"Sorry," I muttered, brushing past whoever I'd just bumped into.

"Alé? Are you okay?" a soft voice asked.

I looked back to see Dakota looking at me, a concerned look on her face.

I nodded, moving to continue walking.

Her hand wrapped around my arm, pulling me to a stop.

She pulled me through a gap between the McLaren and FIA motorhomes, away from the prying eyes of the cameras.

"What's going on, you look like you're going to be sick," she said, lightly touching my arm.

I moved away from her, bile rising in my throat.

"Sit down," she ordered, gently pushing my shoulders down. I sat on the small stool beside the back of the motorhome.

"Take a deep breath."

Suddenly it felt like the world was spinning. My breathing was shallow and it felt like every breath got stuck in my throat.

I could tell Dakota was starting to panic, but I couldn't do anything to calm myself down.

"Look at me. Alessandro, look at me," she said, bending so her face was level with mine.

She grasped one of my hands in hers, gently squeezing it every few seconds. I focused on the feeling, listening to her commands to breathe.

After what felt like hours, my breathing finally evened out.

"Fuck," I muttered, leaning my head back against the motorhome.

"Here," she placed a bottle of water near my mouth. My hand reached up to grab it, gently brushing against hers.

I greedily gulped down the sweet tasting water until the bottle was empty.

She stayed silent, one hand still holding mine. I didn't want her to let go.

"Do you want me to get someone? Aaron? Lando?" she asked quietly.

I shook my head, swallowing harshly before clearing my throat.

"I just need a minute," my voice came out raspy.

"Of course."

My hands were probably sweaty, but I didn't really care at this point. My head finally stopped spinning and it was a little easier to breathe.

My hair was starting to curl around my forehead and at the nape of my neck from the sweat.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, wincing at how weak my voice sounded.

"Shut up," Dakota said firmly, shaking her head. "Are you feeling better."

"Yeah, thanks," I nodded, slowly standing up.

"You have 30 minutes till you need to be in the car. Should I be concerned," was all she asked.

I took a moment to asses myself. My body felt weak, but nothing a bit of energy drink couldn't fix. My head was no longer spinning and I could walk and talk fine.

"No. I'm okay."

"Good. Do you need anything?" she asked.

I finally turned to look at her, her brown doe eyes staring up at me.

"Does the FIA garage happen to have any vitamin water?" I asked sheepishly.

I could feel my cheeks heating up in embarrassment at the situation. If Dakota noticed, she didn't say anything which I was extremely grateful for.

"I'll be right back, you'll be okay right?"

I nodded. For a minute I was confused because she glanced down before looking up at me.

"Oh, sorry," I quickly released my hold on her hand as if it were on fire. I stood waiting in my place as she ran off towards the FIA garage.

Fucking hell Alessandro, great job.

My face grew hot. I was so stupid holding her hand like that.

Less than two minutes later, she was back with a bottle.

"Thank you."

She nodded, glancing around the pitlane as I took a few sips. I watched her for a few seconds before her eyes finally settled on mine. She looked like she wanted to say something, but was refraining.

"I- I think you should tell Aaron what happened."

I stayed silent and she quickly spoke up again.

"I think he'll be able to help you. You need to be in top form for qualifying or else it's dangerous to have you behind the wheel. You're more comfortable with him anyways."

But I want to be more comfortable with you.

"Yeah, you're right," I nodded, slowly walking through the narrow gap between the two motorhomes. It was a brilliant hiding spot in all honesty. Nobody even bothered to look between them.

I didn't say anything, but I could feel her presence behind me.

I didn't have the heart to tell her I didn't need her aid walking back to the McLaren garage.

"Alessandro, mate I've been looking all over for you," Aaron said as soon as he saw me walk in through the garage.

I turned to Dakota, only to find she had already disappeared. I craned my neck, spotting her figure walking towards the pit exit. I smiled slightly. She knew exactly what I needed.

"Are you okay? You're looking a little pale," Zak commented, coming up to us.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Aaron and I still need to do reflex drills, so," I glanced towards my drivers room, hoping Aaron would get the message.

"Right, I'll see you in 20," Zak nodded, patting my shoulder.

The minute the door clicked shut, Aaron spoke up.

"What's going on?"

"I think I just had a panic attack," I blurted out.

"I felt like I couldn't breathe and my heart rate was super high and my head was spinning. I-it was so bizzare, I've never felt anything like it," I rambled.

"I saw your heart rate on the screens. It went up to 189," Aaron said, concern swimming in his eyes.

"Is there anything bothering you that could've triggered it?"

"Not really, I mean I was so nervous it felt like I was going to be sick."

"Did you open any social media at all today?"

"Yeah," I muttered, looking away from him.

"Mate, I think you should let your PR manage you social for a bit until things die down. Delete it from your phone."

"You're right. I should do that," I sighed, rubbing my temples.

"Alright, let's finish these drills and see how you feel."

----------------------------------

Everything was happening one after another and I barely had any time to stop and think about how I was feeling.

As I was strapped into the car, my mind immediately switched to driving mode. That's when I knew I would be fine for the session.

"Good luck out there, dude. You got this. Block everything else out, it's just you and the car," Zak shouted over the sound of the engine.

I nodded as he slapped the top of my helmet. A new sense of assurance washed over me. Zak was like a blessing in disguise.

My lap times were decent in Q1, but as Q2 rolled around, the car suddenly lost performance.

A> "Mate, what's up with the car? Something's not right. Did you change anything on the car?"

E> "Negative. Same setup as Q1."

A> "Car is understeering like crazy."

E> "Copy, would you like to pit?"

A> "Is there a margin?"

E> "Yes, box now. Pit confirm."

A> "Copy."

E> "Strat 12 in the pit lane."

I sighed driving back to the pits.

I only managed to finish P13.

"What happened to the car?" was the first thing I asked when I got out of the car.

"No idea," Dave shrugged, staring at the data screens.

I wasn't stupid. I could see it on the screen that there had been a change in the car.

"Are you fucking blind?" I raised my voice.

Several mechanics stopped their work, turning to look at us. I didn't care.

"Alessandro, watch the language."

"Oh for fucks sake, do you think I'm stupid? Are you really going to sit there and tell me that you didn't change the car?"

"Because we didn't!" he shouted back.

"That's bullshit and we both know it. We all know it."

I could hear hushed whispers and some of the crew hurried to pull the wall cover around the garage.

"What's going on?" Zak asked, coming into the room.

"He's fucking with my car!" I exclaimed, gesturing to the data.

"There hasn't been anything changed! He's just mental," Dave shot back.

"Everyone back to work!" Zak shouted and immediately, the noise started back up in the garage.

A loud series of knocks on the door made everyone stop again. Aaron and I shared a look as the portable wall was pushed aside.

"Do you have a moment?" Dakota asked, breathing hard. Her cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. Moments later, Mark came up to her with papers in her hand. He still had his helmet and everything on.

She was still in her race suit, but her helmet and balaclava were missing, revealing her beautiful hair.

"My office," was all Zak said, turning on his heels.

My eyes met with hers for a minute before I followed after my boss.