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racingliners · 9 months

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Life In the Fast Lane Chapter 13 - 2023 Race 10: Germany

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Work Tags: Re-write of a previous work; not beta read; dual/multiple pov; mentions of IRL current and past F1 figures; Eventual romance; friends to lovers; found family/work family; actual family; occasional swearing; racing drivers and their various shenanigans; how to handle pressure (and how not to); with a sprinkling of the power of friendship; tags will be updated as work progresses

Chapter 13/57

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Homecoming, with a 100% chance of rain

Thursday 13th July – Nürburgring, Germany

The air was thick and muggy as Benedikt and Annika left the Red Bull energy station to head for the press centre. It was raining, but in a very fine mist that wasn’t heavy enough to warrant an umbrella (though Annika, ever prepared for everything, carried one anyway). Though it had been falling for long enough to leave small puddles scattered across the paddock that everyone was doing their best to dodge.

It was set to rain for the entire weekend, and yesterday had been the only dry day of the whole week. So Ben and Matt had gone out cycling, with a stop for lunch at Nürburg Castle since it wasn’t that far from their hotel. They had ran into Sophie and Vanessa, who’d had the exact same idea and the four of them ended up having lunch together. They traded stories (like how Ben tossed a coin to decide whether to race under a Swiss or German racing licence when he made the switch to single seaters, because trying to decide himself had been too stressful), and shared some apple strudel between them while laughing over coffee. Benedikt wondered if it was going to be the most relaxed he would feel all weekend.

“Ugh.” Annika scoffed as she pulled down the hood of her raincoat once they were inside.

“Don’t tell me you don’t get any rain in Norway?” Ben joked with a sheepish smile. Annika just affectionately rolled her eyes and very briefly squeezed Ben’s shoulders. Unlike some drivers that had hired their own press officers, Annika still worked for Red Bull’s communications department but was assigned to Ben full time – and had been for the past three seasons. She wasn’t just one of his friends, but a confidant. He knew that like Matt, Benedikt didn’t have to hide how he felt around her.

“You’ll be fine.” Annika gave Ben one last smile before she opened the door to the press conference room. They were the last pair to arrive even though they were right on time. Though that was likely due to the weather.

A seat in the middle of the long black table had been saved for Benedikt next to Erik, who was technically the only German driver on the grid. Unlike Ben, he seemed completely unbothered by the whole thing, as if a lot of it was beneath him. Still, Benedikt made an effort to greet all of his fellow drivers, especially Nathan. Since out of him, Marc, Erik and Jan, they were the closest to being proper friends.

“All the best for this weekend.” The Mercedes driver reach out his right hand and Ben clasped it with a friendly squeeze.

“You too.” Benedikt smiled back and dopped Nathan’s hand before making for his seat.

Five points. That’s all there was between himself and Carotti in the championship (and likely the real reason for Ben’s discomfort). And as Benedikt sat down he could feel that every single eye in the room was trained on him.

“Since everyone’s going to be hounding you about other things, I’ll take the lead on all the Pirelli shit if that’s alright.” Jan leaned over to speak quietly in Benedikt’s ear.

In the four days since the British Grand Prix, talk had been rife amongst the drivers about what or how to address the multiple tyre failures that had been seen during the race. Everyone was unhappy on safety grounds, and Jan being co-chairman of the Grand Prix Drivers Association alongside Benedikt had been making the most noise in interviews with various journalists, as well as speaking with Pirelli directly. He had insisted on doing all the leg work, mainly because he had been one of the affected drivers, but he also insisted that Ben would have been busy enough with pre-race press.

“It’ll probably sound better coming from you anyway,” Ben said with a small frown. At 38, Jan was the oldest driver on the grid, and the most experienced. It was why Audi had hired him in the first place while they found their feet in F1. But crucially, it meant that whenever Jan spoke up about something, people listened. “Though if anyone does ask, I’ll say my piece.”

“Good.” Jan nodded, and clapped Ben on the shoulder.

“Good morning everyone, and welcome to the drivers press conference from the German Grand Prix…” Lee went through his usual spiel of introducing all the gathered drivers, before starting with Erik who had slapped on a bright smile for the cameras. He spoke of the privilege to drive at his home race for a team like Audi (while their successes in F1 had been few, they were still respected across the paddock for their other motorsport achievements), and that he was looking forward to the challenge of a wet race.

“Coming to you Benedikt,” He sat a little straighter in his chair, and quickly adjusted his cap. “While you don’t race under the German flag, this is still your home race. And you’re running a special helmet design this weekend in honour of four time champion Sebastian Vettel. How did that come about?”

“Ah, it was quite straightforward. I reached out and asked if it would be alright to use a part of his helmet design for the weekend, and he said yes thankfully! You know I’ve always loved racing in Germany, it was actually where I started in karting, and my Mother and her family are all from Düsseldorf which is sort of close by, The team are also really nice and put a little German flag next to the Swiss one on my car for the weekend,” He paused to drum his fingers against the table.

“I think we all know that I haven’t quite been the luckiest around here but, having my family here and seeing all the support from the fans always means a lot regardless of where I finish. But hopefully we can have a good weekend and extend our lead in both championships.” He finished with a small smile. Ideally, the weather would have been a bone dry 25 degrees all weekend with a headwind on the start-finish straight, but he was just going to have to knuckle down and endure all the rain that was forecast.

“It’s definitely safe to say, that the car you have this year is the strongest one Red Bull have ever given you,” One of the Argentine journalists asked once the questions were opened up to the floor. “Everyone knows that this is one of the circuits you’re yet to get any trophy at, do you think it’s finally going to happen this year?”

Ben let out a small sigh, and tried to choose his words carefully. “Ack, it’s hard to forget when you all remind me every year,” It came out more defensive than he liked, but a quiet laugh still ripped round the room none the less. “Obviously, I would love to at least have a podium here. I think we do have one of if not the strongest cars on the grid but… with the weather forecast for the weekend it does bring more people into contention. Mercedes, Ferrari and Alpine have all won races this year. McLaren could even have an opportunity to do well with their new upgrades, so we’ll have to see where we stand during practice and go from there.”

“What would you want more,” The next journalist, from one of the French newspapers asked. “A podium at home or a fourth world title?”

Ben huffed as a few chuckles were scattered around the room at his expense. “Can I not have both?” He asked with a nervous laugh, and left his answer at that.

He got some respite when all the drivers were asked about Pirelli, and Jan as promised went to town with his criticism, and spoke for almost three minutes. About how if himself, Sophie or Daniel had been driving at full speed then their incidents could have been much worse. And while driver error could have been a factor, the fact that the same tyre on three different cars had failed implied otherwise. Not a lot of people had questions about Ben’s or anyone’s chances to win on Sunday after that.

The rain was falling heavier by the time the press conference ended and the drivers and press officers made their way back to their motorhomes. Annika looked rather pleased that she had an opportunity to use her umbrella. She quickly whizzed through the rest of Ben’s schedule for the day, that thankfully included a ten minute coffee break before his first round of group interviews.

“Am I going to see any of my engineers today?” Benedikt huffed as the rain started to fall even heavier, Annika just chuckled and patted his arm.

“Even I would be worried if I had forgotten to factor in your track walk.”

By the end of the day when Benedikt was finally back at the hotel, his head was far too full and he felt utterly exhausted. If he hadn’t have planned on having dinner with his family, he probably would have passed out the second he walked into his room. But he persevered, and after dumping his backpack and various fan gifts he’d been given across the day, he washed his face, got changed and headed back to the hotel restaurant on the ground floor, where his parents and younger brother Nick were already waiting for him at a table.

His mother Anna tutted when she mentioned the weather forecast for tomorrow, it was looking more and more likely that at least one of the practice sessions would be rained off completely. While his father Roger joked that he might have to be on hand to help hand out hot drinks to everyone on the garage to try and keep them warm. Nick was just his usual indecisive self over what to order from the menu (though he did say he liked Ben’s helmet for the weekend).

As usual, dinner ran over. Either due to catching up on anything people had missed, reminiscing about some of Ben’s old races, or some of Roger’s tales from the physics department he ran back at Ben’s old high school in Zürich. His head and shoulders felt the lightest they had all day by the time Benedikt hugged his family goodnight as they split off towards their rooms, and for the first time all week he wasn’t worried about where he would finish in the race. And while that would likely change tomorrow, he went to bed feeling nothing but happy.

Friday 14th July

While yesterday’s rain had been light at worst, the water falling out of the sky now thundered on the roof of the main pit building. The shower had started about an hour before the scheduled beginning for first practice, and left the track far too waterlogged for anyone to want to risk going on track, so everyone just hung around in the garages and watched the rain fall.

A thunderstorm overnight had taken care of yesterday’s humidity, leaving nothing but cool air. So every single person in the McLaren garage was bundled up in their team raincoats. Some had even remembered to back their team beanies with them, much to the annoyance of others that hadn’t been so well prepared.

Sophie just chewed on her bottom lip as she watched drop after drop of water splash in the pitlane. It had been almost a year since she’d driven a race car in the wet – though the entire F2 weekend at Monza hadn’t been anything like this. And even then, F1 had different kinds of wet tyres, better traction control, more horsepower…

“You know,” Sophie was startled out of her daze by a voice coming from her left. She looked up and saw James with a soft smile on his face and small spikes of brown hair poking out from the sides of his own beanie hat. “I can still remember the first time I drove an F1 car in the wet.” He said wistfully.

“Oh?” As Sophie looked up at her team mate, he walked round to perch himself in the spot that Vanessa had vacated when she had offered to help Mike with the tea and coffee run.

“Malaysia, 2011. My Second ever race weekend. First practice had been overcast but FP2 was almost a total washout. Though the second the rain had eased up, my team sent me out on a set of full wets to get a feel for things, to get any initial shock out of the way in case it rained the rest of the weekend.”

“And what happened?”

“Ah, I beached it in the gravel on my out lap.” James said with a small shake of the head. Sophie grimaced with a small hiss. “I was the only car on track too, so the whole world saw it on the TV feed. Really great character building, I can tell you,” He had a lightness in his voice that implied it was something he happily joked about now, maybe because it happened so long ago or because journalists brought it up now and then for a bit of banter. “But, I did learn something,” He said with a small pause as he half turned to lean against the storage drawers that were right next to Sophie’s seat. “When you’re driving in the wet, you can make back time if you take a corner too slowly, but you can’t if you’re stuck in the gravel.”

Sophie just hummed. It was another bit of advice guised in an old race story. Though she appreciated it none the less. All through the year, James had taken the experienced team mate role on exceptionally well. Not just with welcoming Sophie into the team so warmly as he had done at the start of the season, but being open in offering advice, and crucially not talking down to Sophie when he did so. It always came from a place of respect.

“I will keep that in mind.” A brief moment of silence fell between the two as the rain briefly intensified, and some of Sophie’s mechanics scooted away from the open garage front.

“It’s a shame we can’t close the shutters in weather like this.” James said with a small shake of the head, his eyes fixed on something in the mist. It was always so hard for Sophie to tell just where James’ eye colour sat on the blue-green spectrum. But today, with the dark sky outside and the bright but artificial lighting inside the garage, they looked like a dark teal.

Sophie didn’t realise she’d been staring until James turned his head and they found themselves looking right into each other’s eyes.

“Yeah… it’s freezing.” Sophie hunched up her shoulders and tightened her crossed arms a little bit more, as she whipped her head round to peer past her colleagues into the empty pitlane. Only Leena Mirza, the team’s head of trackside engineering, and Amir were sat on the pit wall – likely watching the weather radar. Everyone else had been told by Martin to take shelter in the garage, which meant all the engineers were huddled together around the computer island trying to keep warm.

“Who wants soup?” Richard called out as he and Katie returned to the garage carrying large trays filled with neat rows of filled paper cups and small rolls. Just about every voice in the garage perked up as the two press officers split to make their rounds. Sophie and James both gestured for the mechanics and engineers to get served first.

“You are officially my favourite press officer ever.” Sophie beamed as she picked up a cup and hugged her hands around it when Richard finally came round.

“What kind is it?” James asked, setting aside a roll each for the three of them plus Vanessa before taking a cup for himself.

“Butternut squash. Vanessa and Mike shouldn’t be long with the tea and coffee trays.” Richard huffed as he left to return the now empty trays to the motorhome. Katie joined them, happily sipping on her soup while James and Sophie exchanged wet race stories.

While Sophie ripped off a chunk of her roll, she briefly glanced up at James who was quite animated as he spoke about something, and recalled that first day at the factory when they’d first met. She had been ready to wipe the floor with him to prove her place in F1 if necessary, and now… she wasn’t quite sure if James thought of her as a friend, but she was starting to feel that way about him. And even then she wasn’t sure if she would’ve had the gall to go through with it. To have used all her energy that way instead of just focusing on doing her job would have exhausted her by the second race. And trying to rip him to shreds certainly wouldn’t have helped make the car much faster.

It was better this way, to genuinely get on with James and have one more person to turn to if she needed it, than to burn that bridge from the word go. As her father said, in F1 you needed all the friends you could get.

A few minutes later her and James were called to the front of the garage for a quick interview with Lise from German TV. They mainly joked about how everyone had brought the British weather with them, though the rain for qualifying and the race wasn’t meant to be as heavy.

“It’s unfortunate McLaren didn’t get the weather you needed to test out your new upgrades.”

“Yeah,” James shrugged. “But who knows, while we can’t really compare the lap times, if we’re at least further up the track than what we have been the past few races – maybe that will be a good indication for Hungary, assuming it’s dry.”

“And what about you Sophie, potentially your first wet race in an F1 car. How much of a challenge is it going to be?”

“Well… depending on how much rain we get it could be a challenge for everyone,” She replied with a slightly awkward laugh. “We’ll see, it has been a while since I’ve driven in the wet, and round the Nürburgring. But I do love a challenge, hopefully if the rain eases off as it should tomorrow then I’ll see how the car feels and then go from there.”

“Thank you so much for your time, and all the best to yourselves and McLaren this weekend.”

“Danke Schön,” Sophie added after her and James thanked Lise in English, and they stepped out of the way while she addressed the camera in German, likely to go to an ad break as she dropped her microphone seconds later.

“Can we get you guys some tea of coffee?” Katie asked. Lise and her camera man politely declined, but they happily accepted the offer to get back into the paddock through the garage, as opposed to via the proper entry and exit way at the far end of the pit lane.

A few seconds later Martin came over, after making another excursion to the pit wall to have a look at the weather radar, just in case it was different to the screen in the garage. He tutted and shook his head, and regretfully declared the session a write off.

“It’s far too wet to send the cars out, it looks like the rain’s going to ease about 10 minutes before the end of the session, but that won’t be long enough for the circuit to be drivable,” He shook his head again as he quickly glanced round the garage. At least the hot soup had done something for morale. “You two can head back to the motorhome and keep warm, if you want.”

Sophie knitted her brows together as she mulled over the offer, she couldn’t quite shake that it wouldn’t exactly be fair for her to warm up in the motorhome while everyone else had to stay put in the garage to look after the cars or keep an eye on their stations.

“We’ll be fine,” James bounced up on his toes as he quickly read the look on Sophie’s face, possibly coming to the same conclusion. “This is nothing compared to Silverstone a few years back, we’ll live.”

Martin affectionately shook his head with a small smile, and went on a quick tour of the garage, checking in that everyone was alright, and that they too were welcome to go to the motorhome if needed.

“So,” James spoke as he and Sophie made their way over to the back of the garage once again, squeezing their way past Sophie’s mechanics and engineers. “You read any good books lately?”

Sunday 16th July

It was dry for the first time since Wednesday as everyone made their way from the hotels to the circuit. Somehow the gathered fans at the entrance gates recognised Ben’s car as he drove in, and he gave as many people as he could a small wave. So many people were decked in Red Bull caps and jackets, as well as waving Swiss and German flags. At times it was slightly overwhelming knowing that many people were there just for him, but at the same time it felt surreal to have that much support every single race weekend.

“I swear you get more popular each year.” Anna sighed from the backseat.

“Don’t worry, I always make sure it never goes to his head.” Matt chuckled from the front, tapping his driver on the arm with a soft fist for good measure.

While it wasn’t raining now, the sky was still a patchwork of grey. At last time of checking it was set to resume raining about an hour before the start of the race. The one saving grace was that the general consensus in the paddock was it would be light enough to at least start the race in, but after that was a bit of a guessing game. Benedikt hoped he and everyone else would have a better idea after the pre-race briefing.

But the cold weather and grey skies hadn’t deterred the fans in the slightest. And as Ben met Annika in the circuit car park, another large and very excited cluster of fans were waiting behind the barriers at the paddock entrance – and Benedikt gave them as much time as possible to sign caps, t-shirts, flags and smile for selfies. Almost every single person wished him luck in the hope he would finally get to stand on the podium after a German Grand Prix. And when Ben scanned his pass at the nearest turnstile, he hoped more than anything that he would be.

“Shit!” Carly hissed as she felt a few raindrops start to spit on her cheeks. “Get the gazebo ready!” Truthfully she hated wet races, mainly because of the added workload of hauling more equipment onto the grid – and because of how bloody cold it was.

She pressed her radio headset firmly against her ear while looking over at Harry to try and see just how soon Ben would be arriving at the grid. He’d done a great job yesterday to manage P2 in what was pretty rough conditions, though Nathan Watkins had beaten him to pole for the second race running. Everyone on Ben’s side of the garage hoped that there wouldn’t be a complete repeat of Silverstone.

Harry finally gave the signal that Ben was coming into the final sector of the track, so Carly led her mechanics down to the far end of the grid where they awaited their driver, and wheeled the number 1 Red Bull into second place.

Carly had been a mechanic on Ben’s car ever since he joined Red Bull, and she’d been promoted to number one mechanic at the start of last season. It was a lot of pressure, but it was also a show of faith from management in her abilities – and she had no intentions of half-arsing her job. Not on today of all days when she was determined by hell or high water that Benedikt would finally get his first podium at his home race.

As soon as Ben’s car was in place, the gazebo was put up to protect it and the on-grid equipment from the oncoming rain. Harry and Matt had also quickly dived under it the second they was able. Carly caught snippets of their conversation as she darted around everyone, making sure that everything was where it was supposed to be and hopefully bone dry as the spits of rain very quickly turned into a downpour.

“Are you all okay?” Benedikt had to shout over the sound of the rain hitting the roof of the gazebo, and he looked around to check that everyone was either under cover or at least had an umbrella.

“We’ll be fine,” Carly said with a small smile. “You worry about yourself, alright?”

“I think I’ve been worrying too much!” He huffed as he pulled on his team raincoat with a nervous chuckle. If the rain was good for anything it meant that there weren’t any camera crews on the grid – for now.

“Just come back to the garage in one piece.” She gently patted Ben’s arm, and gave him the warmest smile she could muster. The pair of them were close in age, and there were times when Carly saw Ben less as her driver, and more like her far too talented younger brother.

Benedikt took in a long breath, and very slowly exhaled.

“I’ll try my best.” He smiled back.

Visibility was better than expected on the formation lap, though Benedikt was starting from the front row. All the cars had been fitted with wheel arches for the entire weekend to try and reduce the spray so that the cars further behind would be able to see who was around them.

“What are the others saying about the conditions?” Ben could still see the clumps of fir trees that surrounded the track in places. So while it was raining, at least it wasn’t too misty.

“No complaints being reported,” Harry said back over to radio. “The rain is going to stay at this intensity for the next half hour at least, should get a decent chunk of the race under our belts. I’ll keep you updated.”

“Copy,” Benedikt replied quickly, wanting to focus on his drive out of turn seven.

“Just worry about yourself Ben, let’s get that win today.” Edward said, sounding much firmer than normal. It was his usual ‘aim high in case you fall short’ approach. And Ben really did want a win in Germany of all places so, so badly. Who knew how many chances he would have in his career to try and do it?

Slowly, he pulled up into P2 in the grid. For the first time Benedikt wasn’t concerned with jumping Nathan at the start, but making it cleanly though the hairpin of turn one. But would Nathan be thinking the same thing? Or would he go defensive to try and keep the lead? Mercedes hadn’t won the German Grand Prix since its revival four years ago, Nathan wasn’t going to give up easily.

What Benedikt did know, as the first red light came on, was that he had to stay on the tarmac. Getting even one wheel on the wet grass could lead to him at best lose track position, and at worst spin out. And after not scoring in the last two races, Ben needed all the points he could get.

He eased his car off the line and kept in line with Nathan until they broke for the first corner. With Ben starting on the right hand side of the grid he had the inside line, but Nathan found plenty of grip round the outside and easily maintained the lead as they drove single file through the area section.

On his way to the grid, Benedikt had ear-marked turn seven as a possible overtaking spot. In the wet it may have been possible to make a move round the outside if he broke late enough – but those plans were dashed, at least for now, when the safety car was called before he’d even reached his breaking point.

“Martinez is in the gravel at turn 5, so we’ll probably be under SC for a good few laps. Driver’s okay.” Harry spoke calmly over the radio.

Benedikt had already put the car into fuel saving mode as he pressed his foot down on the brake pedal and fell into line behind Nathan’s Mercedes. He let out a small sigh of relief, and tried his best not to look too long at all the German and Swiss flags being waved in a very determined fashion by those in the grandstands.

He couldn’t afford to think about the cheers that would erupt if he crossed the finish line in first at the end of lap 60. He couldn’t think about how proud and happy his family and friends would be. He couldn’t help but think about the weight that would be lifted of his shoulders even if he finished at least in third place.

But he didn’t to just be on the podium, though maybe if he did he would accept it a few months down the line. Benedikt wanted to win.

The safety car came in at the end of lap 5, and Ben had been able to drop Carotti behind at the restart, but Nathan still retained the lead going down the main straight.

“I’m not so sure about the tyres…” Ben radioed in as he drove out of turn 6, the track definitely felt like it had more surface water on it than a few laps ago. “I think we might need full wets sooner rather than later.”

“Copy, could just be that everyone’s tyres weren’t clearing as much water because of the safety car. But we’ll keep it in mind.” Harry, like most engineers in F1, was from the UK. And his Geordie accent had a habit of making every interaction sound cheerful, even something as mundane as talking about tyres. “The rain’s still set to stay at this intensity for the next twenty minutes. There’s a way to go yet, you’re doing a great job.”

Benedikt didn’t reply, instead wanting to focus on matching pace with Watkins, which he did for the next ten laps. The gap between them never went above one and a half seconds, a good enough distance so that Ben would be able to capitalise on any potential mistakes. It helped that he didn’t have to worry about Carotti being behind him – that gap was holding perfectly steady at around five seconds.

The call for Ben to make his first pit stop came part-way through lap 17, and annoyingly Mercedes had the same idea, as he followed the number 71 Mercedes into the pit lane. They both pitted for a fresh set of inters and came out with almost no change in the time gap between them.

Ben tried his best to exhale his frustration and focus on looking after the tyres instead. He was still in second place, it could have been much, much worse. In 2019, he’d finished in 4th. In 2020, his engine blew with three laps to go while he was in second. In 2021, he’d finished in 5th. And last year, Alistair had intentionally or otherwise given him a puncture while he was leading, and he’d finished in 5th again.

“Okay Ben, looking at the radar there’s going to be a heavier patch of rain hitting the track in about twenty five to thirty five minutes-”

“Argh!” Normally Ben was good at keeping himself collected on the radio, but it was either letting out one small groan or physically hitting his head against the steering wheel. Which wasn’t advisable to do while driving at full speed.

“At the moment, it’s going to be coming in at turn 11. But I’ll keep you updated if anything changes.”

“Copy.”

Another twenty laps went by of Benedikt being stuck in second place. The virtual safety car for Dumont stopping on track with some kind of mechanical failure had just been recalled, and the gap between himself and Nathan was now 1.1 seconds. Every time Ben would make gains in one sector, Nathan would do the same on the next lap. If anything it felt a lot like China when he’d been chasing down Sophie for third place. A never ending game of tug of war.

And then the heavier rain came.

Harry (and the team’s weather radar) was spot on in their forecast of the heavier patch of rain first hitting the track at turn 11, though it wasn’t until the lap after that Benedikt noticed a change in the track conditions.

“I want to box for wets.” If the rain was only going to get heavier, even for a short while, he wanted all the grip he could get.

It felt like an age from when Ben clipped the apex of turn 11, to him breaking for turn 12, for Harry or anyone on the pit wall to get back to him. As tempting as it was to drive into pit lane anyway and sit there until he got a set of wet tyres put on the car, it wouldn’t be worth the risk of the pit crew not being ready. They would never have forgiven themselves.

“Okay. Box, box.”

He knew how risky it was to pit now, but taking a chance was better than being stuck behind the Mercedes for another twenty plus laps.

After coming out of turn 14 he veered right into the long pit lane entry, and trundled along until the Red Bull garage – and the pit crew with a fresh set of wet tyres – came into view. It felt like it had been a good stop as he drove away, and Harry was quick to tell him over the radio that he would be coming out into traffic – all on old inters. Apparently Benedikt had been the first car in the entire field to make his second stop.

He came out behind Alistair, who had either been told or decided to give Ben plenty of space going into the first corner. Benedikt easily took the position, and even though he still needed to get the tyres up to temperature, he could already notice how much more grip he had. And as the rain intensified across the whole track, Ben found himself almost carving a path through the rain as he passed car after car. The most satisfying overtake had been going round the outside of Carotti at turn 7.

And when Ben came round to start the next lap, he found himself in the lead.

“Okay everyone has either pitted for wets or is coming in now. The Alpines came in on the same lap as you so they’re in second and third behind you. You just need to hold on for twenty more laps and the win’s yours.”

He could hear Harry holding back a smile over the radio, as well as the noise of the crowd willing him on to finish.

Just count down the laps, that’s all you need to do. He told himself as he counted every apex. For the first time in quite a few races Ben felt completely at one with the car. It really was the best car Red Bull had ever built him.

The final lap came by in an instant, it was still raining but at the same intensity as at the start, so he didn’t have that to worry about. The gap between himself and Cristóbal was around three seconds. He just had to hold his nerve, and hope that every single component on the car would do the same.

Benedikt made the sharp turn for the hairpin, and twisted the car through the three right turns of the arena section. He stayed on the racing line in parts of the track and off it in others, trying to find the best grip possible so he wouldn’t spin out.

The crowds were on their feet as he came out of turn 12, went down the short straight and flicked through the chicane of 13 and 14. Then he eased the car out of turn 15, pressed hard on the accelerator, and finally, finally, was the first car to see the chequered flag.

For a long moment, the only thing Benedikt felt was relief. But then the euphoria came as he screamed down the radio, pumping a soaked fist in the air both for the crowd and himself. He likely burst Harry’s eardrums as he shouted down the radio again, before tearfully thanking his family and friends for all their love and support (he knew they would hear it, they all wore headsets during the race).

“You’re a bloody legend mate!” Harry hadn’t whopped over the radio since Ben had won the title in Brazil last year. “About bloody time you finally got some champagne in Germany.”

“Ack,” Ben drove as slowly as he could on the cooldown lap, both for the usual rubber pick up but also to wave at every single person he could in the grandstands. “I couldn’t have done it without you, everyone in the garage and back in Milton Keynes…”

“Now that is how you get your first home win! That was a superb drive Ben, we’ll be taking you on as strategist when you retire.”

“Thanks Edward,” Benedikt couldn’t help but laugh, he felt both giddy and exhausted at the same time. It was like he’d won his first world title all over again.

The rain was still pouring down in the pit lane when Benedikt pulled the car into parc fermé, but he didn’t care. He tilted his head back as far as he could within the cockpit, and breathed out a long sigh before undoing his seatbelts and jumping out the car – making a beeline for his family. They were all in various stages of crying as he clung onto them for dear life, even Nick.

“Hau rein!” He shouted so Ben could hear through the lining of his helmet.

The celebrations went by in a euphoric blur as he tried to thank every single one of his mechanics, and it clearly wasn’t to schedule as someone from the FIA had to drag him into scrutineering and almost shoved him in the direction of the stairwell that led up to the podium once he’d been weighed.

Benedikt only had enough time to take off his helmet, HANS device and balaclava, put on his winner cap, get a colossal hug from Harry, and sprint out onto the podium to even more cheers from the crowd. He hadn’t noticed at the time, but someone had given his parents Swiss and German flags to wave during the anthems. And the sight of them looking up at him so proudly was the final catalyst that caused tears to flood Benedikt’s face as the first notes of the Swiss anthem rang through the cold air.

He didn’t notice how utterly freezing it was until the Austrian anthem concluded and he fixed the winners cap back on his head. But it was all worth it, when he finally saw the winner’s trophy.

Metal spokes painted gold, with plastic spokes forming the German flag twisted around each other to fan out at the top. Maybe it was the emotions of the day, but it was by far the most beautiful trophy he’d ever seen.

The head of the German motorsport federation was the one tasked with presenting it to him, and Benedikt kissed the base before lifting it high into the sky to a colossal roar from the crowd and his mechanics below.

If he didn’t get his fourth world title this year, Ben would at least be content that he was going to have this moment, forever.

* * *

2023 German Grand Prix Classification

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) - 18pts 3rd - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine) - 15pts 4th - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 12pts 5th - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 10pts 6th - James Hewitt (McLaren) - 8pts 7th - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 6pts 8th - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) - 4pts 9th - Marc Pavard (Mercedes) - 2pts 10th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin) - 1pt 11th - Tadashi Sato (Haas) 12th - Evan McKinley (Williams) 13th - Leon Bauer (McLaren) 14th - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) 15th - Antonio Lima (Alpha Tauri) 16th - Aidan Glover (Williams) 17th - Erik Braun (Audi) 18th - Jan Martens (Audi) RET - Nico Dumont (Alpha Tauri) RET - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) Fastest Lap - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings after Round 10

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz - 160pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 143pts 3rd - Natahn Watkins - 130pts 4th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 115pts 5th - Alistair Mitchell - 110pts (9th - James Hewitt - 37pts 10th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 36pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull-Honda - 270pts 2nd - Mercedes-AMG - 220pts 3rd - Ferrari - 217pts 4th - Alpine-Renault - 164pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes - 73pts

#my writing #LITFL Chapters #Life In The Fast Lane

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racingliners · 10 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 9 - Tarmac and Diamonds

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Work Tags: Re-write of a previous work; Mentions of IRL current and past F1 figures; Eventual romance; friends to lovers; found family/work family; actual family; racing drivers and their various shenanigans; how to handle pressure (and how not to); with a sprinkling of the power of friendship; tags will be updated as work progresses

Chapter 9/57

Word count: 6.7k

Summary: Sophie finds herself in the French Riviera, as F1 lands in Monaco

Wednesday 24th May – Monaco

Monte Carlo. The so called playground of the rich and famous. With its glittering marina, luxurious hotels and casinos, it was nicknamed by many the jewel of the F1 calendar.

But to James, for the past seven years, it was home.

He turned the key to his apartment door with a firm twist, locking it tight, before securing the keys in his backpack and made for the nearest stairwell.

The race weekend schedule was always unique in Monaco. Custom meant that Friday was a rest day, so free practice one and two took place on Thursday, with Wednesday being the track walk and media day. Not that James was really looking forward to either, since he knew the circuit almost like the back of his hand. And it seemed that McLaren’s early upgrades had only bared fruit in Shanghai. When the rest of the teams had brought their upgrade packages to the previous race in Valencia, McLaren found themselves back where they were, languishing between the front runners and the midfield, in a lowly 8th and 9th place.

“Morning” James’ trainer Mike greeted him at the bottom of the stairwell, brown aviators over his eyes and his auburn hair looking freshly washed. As living space was at an extreme premium in Monaco they lived at opposite ends of the same apartment complex.

“You’re sure you want to walk in today?” James asked with a small frown as he led the way out onto the street.

“We’re going cycling on Friday, remember?”

“Right, Friday” James nodded, and took his own Ray Ban sunglasses from the front pocket of his team shirt and put them on as they walked out into the warm sunshine and began the fifteen minute walk down to the marina, where the team motorhomes had already rolled into town.

Another twist of the Monaco Grand Prix’s strange charm, was that the paddock was effectively split into two. The team motorhomes and engineering trucks were down by the marina, an almost ten minute walk away from the pitlane (which was even more unusual, as the team’s pitwalls were situated above the garages, as there simply wasn’t space for them in the pitlane).

James was long used to all of Monaco’s quirks, as long as he’d be able to drive the car on Sunday and hopefully score some points, he wasn’t really fussed at how jumbled the weekend was.

The walk to the paddock was quiet at least, one of the things James did like about living in Monaco was that there were no paparazzi anywhere to be found, as they were completely forbidden from the principality. (Exceptions were made during the Grand Prix weekend for the officially licenced photographers, of course). Occasionally a few other drivers or team members would walk or cycle past, but apart from that, James and Mike were free to talk amongst themselves the whole way.

“So,” Mike’s cheery voice cut through the warm air as he clapped a heavy hand on James’ shoulder, almost forcing him to turn his head to look at his trainer. “How are you feeling?”

“About what?” James asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Anything” Mike shrugged, still keeping a hand on his driver’s shoulder. “Thoughts for the weekend, the season so far, if there’s…” He paused to take in a small, sharp breath “…any problems with you and your team mate”

“I am not having any problems with Sophie…” James scoffed, and rolled his eyes behind his sunglasses for good measure. “And I’m fine mate, really”.

Mike hummed, but finally dropped his hand from James’ shoulder.

“Well, as your confidant slash personal trainer, I am allowed to worry about you. Especially after… you know”

After James and Petra had ended things for the second time right before Abu Dhabi last year.

Carrying on with their walk James took in a long, deep breath of now slightly salty air since they were almost at the marina, and let out an even longer exhale in the hope it would take as much of last year with it as possible.

Mechanical failures had been the main reason why neither he nor Nathan had been involved in the title fight last season. And McLaren had come through on their promise of fixing those gremlins over the winter break, though it seemed they had sacrificed a significant chunk of speed in the process.

Which meant that when the paddock entrance came into view, James rolled his shoulders back and had his best smile ready to go just in case (because some journalists really did take the look on a driver’s face alone as serious indication for what state their team was in).

As they approached the familiar turnstiles, James and Mike found themselves saying good morning to more and more paddock members. James even spotted Richard, who was stood a few metres away from the last turnstile on the left, talking with a shorter blonde woman who like almost everyone James had seen so far was wearing sunglasses over her eyes. She had a green paddock pass around her neck, and wore a peach coloured blouse with dark cotton slacks, with her curly blonde hair ever so slightly drifting in the breeze coming in from the harbour.

“Morning Rich” James smiled brightly at his colleague, who half waved back as the woman he was with checked her watch. There was something in the way her shoulders sunk with a sigh that looked somewhat familiar. So James looked at her again, and took in the gentle sweep of her nose, and somewhat sharp curve of her jawline, and the penny finally dropped in James’ head as he veered away from the turnstiles. “Good morning Mrs Knightsbridge”. His bright smile was completely genuine as he tentatively held out his right hand.

“Oh... Good morning” Her handshake was firm, but polite. “But please, call me Mary” Her accent was the same as her daughter’s. Very stereotypically English, but not posh. They even had the same hint of warmth in their voices. “It’s lovely to finally meet you James”

“Yes you too… No Sophie?” He asked with a raised eyebrow. Richard had seemingly been inseparable from his driver at every race so far this season. And from what James could gather about the Knightsbridge family, they didn’t seem like the kind that would travel to the circuit separately.

“Her and Vanessa decided to cycle in, so we walked down from the hotel. But the chain on Vanessa’s bike went so they’re running a little late” Mary explained.

“Ahh right” Mike, who had stayed a few steps behind James, quietly cleared his throat. “I uh… better head in, but don’t worry you’re in very safe hands” James gestured to Richard who gave a small smile in return as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “We’ll see you in the motorhome” James gave a slightly awkward wave as he made for the nearest turnstile, scanned his pass, and waited for Mike on the other side.

“I am allowed to be friendly you know” He scoffed at Mike once he was happy they were out of earshot. “Heaven forbid I try to make Sophie and her family feel welcome around here”. It was true that Formula 1 had changed a lot in the past decade, both in the way it presented itself to the world, and the people that helped make it. And while there were more women and people of colour employed by teams, the FIA, or even F1 itself, there were still some people from the old status quo that weren’t exactly happy to roll out the red carpet for Sophie in Australia. In their minds, no matter what Sophie did or would ever do would be enough to earn her place in F1.

And Mike had been James’ trainer for the past five years, he knew the paddock well enough by now.

“You were turning on the charm a little too much” Mike teased as they reached the last of the engineering trucks, and made a right for the tightly packed together team motorhomes.

“Oh piss off!” James scoffed. Mike just laughed as they made their way down towards the McLaren motorhome, which thankfully for James wasn’t that far away as he was becoming increasingly tempted to chuck his friend into the sea.

“I mean I know, it’s really difficult being a very handsome very charming bastard, but don’t whip out the megawatt smile before ten o’clock in the morning!” James rolled his eyes and didn’t take off his sunglasses until he was safely inside the McLaren motorhome, and tightly hit Mike on the shoulder.

“Oh come on what was that for?” He winced as they climbed the stairs to the first floor.

“Being an idiot!”

“Maybe we should have just walked in like everyone else… uh good morning!” Sophie winced as she wheeled her bike past a small huddle of Mercedes engineers. One or two of them said hello to Sophie as she passed, and she rushed to return the gesture before they were out of earshot.

While it wasn’t Sophie’s first visit to Monaco, having raced in Formulas 2 and 3 the past few years, the scenery of the principality always seemed to take her by surprise. From the dramatic cliffs near the French border, to the yacht filled marina, and the ribbons of road and pastel coloured buildings that were crammed in-between. As pretty as it was, Sophie wondered how anyone in Monaco had room to breathe, let alone live.

While Richard was leading the way to wherever McLaren had managed to find space for the motorhome, Sophie and Vanessa were more concerned with trying not to hit anyone – or each other – with their bikes.

“Yeah, we’re definitely walking in Saturday and Sunday” Vanessa groaned as Richard made a sudden left, with Mary quickly looking behind her to make sure their little group hadn’t gotten separated.

“You okay Mum?” Sophie asked with a slightly restrained smile. Mary just nodded as she tried to keep everyone together.

“Almost there, I promise!” Richard cheerily called out amongst the maze of team personnel, journalists, and team engineering trucks.

After what felt like an eternity of walking through the very crowded marina, the first of the team motorhomes came into view. And Sophie couldn’t help but gawk at what was very clearly Red Bull’s and Alpha Tauri’s base for the race weekend.

The regular motorhome she had seen at testing and in Valencia had been replaced by a barge that featured a smaller version of the Red Bull and Alpha Tauri shared motorhome atop what looked like the team’s own private pool deck. And if that wasn’t enough, images of all four Red Bull drivers were printed on tarpaulin that was stretched around the base of the barge. It was certainly one way to make an impression.

McLaren by comparison, had a downsized version of their motorhome for the Monaco Grand Prix. It was two stories high instead of three, and was a more solid cuboid shape. The reflective windows had been swapped for tinted ones, but the monochromatic colour scheme with hints of papaya remained as Sophie, Vanessa, Richard and Mary finally walked up the small ramp that led to the main doors. And Sophie finally let out a long exhale once she was inside.

She would never admit it publicly, but she very much considered Monaco to be her bogey track. She had the grand total of one podium finish in her three attempts at the circuit, and that was only due to the on-track winner being disqualified. Monaco was always an intense race not because of any actual racing, but because driving around the narrow streets was like threading a needle in a hurricane. It didn’t take much for a driver to accidentally or otherwise end up in the barriers. And that was before Sophie had considered the fact she would be doing the full race distance of 78 laps, as opposed to the measly 42 laps in the previous year’s F2 sprint race, where she’d finished in fifth.

“Morning Sophie!” She almost jumped out her skin as she reached the top of the stairs and saw James by the door of his driver room. “Rough time getting in?” Her team mate asked with a tilt of the head, clearly noticing he’d startled her.

“Something like that” She sighed as Vanessa entered the code to unlock the door to Sophie’s room.

“Ah well, just the journalists to worry about now” James replied with a grin as he clapped Sophie on the shoulder, and the pair looked at each other for a few seconds longer than normal. “See you later”

“See you” Sophie flashed a small smile at James before lugging her bike down the small corridor and into her driver room, and propped it against the wall next to Vanessa’s.

“You good?”

“Nope” Sophie sighed almost immediately, and flopped down onto the small sofa that sat opposite the massage table, slightly resisting the urge to bury her head in her hands. “I’m just…”

“Terrified of putting your car in the barriers tomorrow” Vanessa finished Sophie’s sentence as she sat down next to her driver, and placed a supportive hand on her shoulder. Sophie just hummed in reply and leaned back, looking up at the ceiling. “You do know that if all you think about is not crashing then-”

“I’ll end up crashing anyway… I know” Sophie huffed as she looked over at the person who was her personal trainer, friend, and emotional support all in one. “Believe me, I’m trying to let it go I just… can’t” She buried her hands in her hair as she took in a long, deep breath, and slowly exhaled. “I’ll feel better after my track walk… probably” Sophie pulled her hair out of her low ponytail as she stood up, and re-tied to so it sat on the crown of her head. “And we should probably go before my Mum drags me downstairs… assuming she hasn’t texted you already”

Vanessa hummed as she stood up and quickly checked her phone with a relieved smile as Sophie opened the door.

“She hasn’t, but there’s still time” Vanessa chuckled as she followed Sophie out the door.

Friday 26th May

“Mon Dieu Sophie, how long does it take you to grab things you’ve had organised since last night?” Nico scoffed as he looked at his watch with an overly dramatic sigh.

“Well I’m not even close to being late so ha!” Sophie screwed up her face at her friend as she handed him her garment bag without asking. “Hi Dana”

“Hi Sophie!” She beamed and eagerly embraced Sophie in a bone-crushing hug. Dana’s work as an architect and increasingly in interior design meant that she didn’t have as much time to attend races as other driver’s partners. They had last seen each other back in April, after Nico and Dana had taken Sophie out to dinner to celebrate her podium finish.

Dana and Nico had met in 2020, when the company she worked for had been invited to the Red Bull factory in Milton Keynes to do some renovation work, on the same day that Nico in his then-duties as Red Bull test driver had been at the factory for a run in the simulator. They had started dating not long after, which meant that she had also known Sophie ever since. “It is so good to see you!” Dana said with a bright smile, squeezing her hands on Sophie’s shoulders. “And we finally have someone sensible to talk to” Dana grinned with a wink for Nico’s benefit.

“It’s about time” Sophie chuckled before looking over at Nico. “We love you really”

“Oh yes, of course you do” He jokingly rolled his eyes before going to check his watch. “But we really are going to be late at this rate”

Dana led the way out of the hotel lobby as Nico returned Sophie’s garment bag, and the trio walked out into the late afternoon sunshine for their walk over to the Grimaldi Forum.

Over the years the powers that be on the commercial side of F1 had found ways to fill in the traditional rest day of the Grand Prix weekend. Sophie, like a handful of other drivers, had spent much of the morning doing a sponsor photoshoot, before being freed to train with Vanessa, have lunch with Nico, Dana and her Mum, before squeezing in a quick shower to get ready for her final engagement of the day – The Amber Lounge Fashion Show.

No one in the paddock could quite pinpoint the exact moment it became a traditional part of the race weekend, but as the fashion show and accompanying gala was for charity, no one really seemed to mind. Around a third of the drivers on the grid were in attendance each year, as they even had their own slot during the show. Which was why Nico and Sophie’s garment bags contained some of their more finer outfits.

“I’ll be in the crowd, and Nico will be with you the whole time” Dana said to Sophie with a gentle hand on her shoulder. She had already changed into her ankle length navy chiffon dress which paired beautifully with her deeply tanned skin, and her dark golden brown hair was curled and styled in a half-updo.

“It’s not the fashion show I’m worried about” Sophie sighed, half-lying. Her main concern was ensuring that her ankles would survive a night in heels incident free, because there wasn’t going to be anything more embarrassing than having to pull out of the race because of a shoe induced sprained ankle.

When Sophie spoke with a sadder sigh than she intended, Nico stopped in his tracks, screwed up his face, and let out a small sigh himself.

“Habibi what is it?” Dana asked, looking between her boyfriend and Sophie.

“The date” Nico frowned, before handing Dana his garment bag so he could hug Sophie round the shoulders. “I’m so sorry ma amie”. Sophie let herself rest her head on Nico’s chest as Dana eventually placed a hand on Sophie’s arm when she realised what Nico was referring to.

That had Sophie not broken up with Tom after telling his parents they’d gotten engaged, today would have been their eight year anniversary.

Not really a day she felt like getting dolled up to be presented to the masses. If the fashion show wasn’t for charity, she would have twisted Vanessa’s arm into helping her pull a sickie so she could hide in her hotel room instead.

Nico and Dana had been the second and third people after Vanessa to help take care of Sophie after the fallout of her very brief engagement. She could still remember that week in mid-December last year clear as day. Signing her McLaren contract on the Tuesday, Tom taking her out for dinner to their favourite restaurant in Northampton and proposing on the Wednesday night, telling Sophie’s family over the phone on the Thursday morning… and then Saturday happened.

Tom’s parents were on the above average side of wealthy, his mother was the head of an estate agent, and his father a property developer. They had never sent Tom to a private school despite being more than able to afford it, because they wanted him to be ‘normal’. So he ended up in the same year as Sophie when they started High School. He never laughed when Sophie told him she wanted to be a Formula 1 driver, and he even went two a couple of her karting races before they got together. He had finally asked her out when Sophie won her first single seater race.

Tom had decided that it would have been best to tell his parents face to face, so when he and Sophie arrived at the five-bedroom Berkley family home, he had hoped that his parents would be over the moon to see the gold set emerald cut Diamond on Sophie’s ring finger.

But instead his mother’s face went white with shock.

“What are you thinking? Throwing your career away to follow her here there and everywhere” Tom, like his younger sister Alice, hadn’t went into either family business, and instead worked in IT. Even while Sophie had been sat alone in the large living room, she had heard every word Tom’s mother had yelled at him from the next room. Maybe it had been intentional. “I don’t care how successful she might be…” Sophie’s breathing had become more and more ragged as she heard Tom’s mother suddenly say all manner of things about her. That she’d never approved of Sophie being a racing driver, that she’d assumed Sophie and Tom would fizzle out either due to the increased amount of travelling Sophie did, or that Tom would find someone more ‘suitable’, whatever that meant.

Sophie still remembered biting down on her bottom lip as tears began to fill her eyes, and her engagement ring started to feel heavier and heavier on her left hand. Seeing Tom’s sister walk in with two cups of tea had been the last straw, as Sophie pulled the ring off her finger and left it on the coffee table. She would never force Tom to choose between her and his family.

“I mean, what was I thinking, getting engaged at 23?!” Sophie shook her head as she sat down on the nearest bench, with Nico and Dana joining her on either side. She’d found herself thinking about the end of her relationship on the odd moment throughout the year. She had loved Tom, completely. But there were times that she wondered if she’d said yes to marrying him because it felt like ticking the next box after securing her F1 drive. They had never really, properly, discussed getting married before he got down on one knee.

“You’ll be okay Sophie” Nico said softly as he took his friend’s hand in his.

“I am okay I just…” The fact that the most she currently felt was a small ache in her chest, and that she had been able to think straight in first and second practice yesterday, was a testament to that. “I’m making peace with it all I guess”. As was starting to be the case with every time she thought about Tom, she felt more and more at ease with the fact she definitely didn’t want to get married anytime soon. “I want to move on. I don’t know if or when I want to start dating again, especially since all the people I see these days are from the paddock”

Nico and Dana both chuckled.

“I’m sure that one day, you are going to meet someone who just… makes you so happy you’ll want to dive right into the deep end. So long as he respects you for who you are of course” Nico smiled, briefly glancing over at Dana. “And if that’s something you really want, then it’ll be okay… even if they do end up being from the paddock” He added with a small smile, and squeezed Sophie’s hand before letting go. And after letting out one final exhale, Sophie and Dana got up from the bench, and the trio carried on their journey.

Once they arrived at the venue Nico and Sophie showed both their F1 accreditation passes and passports to one of the people on the reception desk, and once Dana had gotten her guest wristband, a member of staff led the two drivers to the backstage area.

Vanity mirrors and chairs took up an entire wall on the left, half of which were filled with models, make-up artists, hair stylists, and one or two drivers. The rest of the space was filled with temporary cubicles, rows upon rows of clothes rails, and small sofas and armchairs wherever there was room for them. To the right, a large black curtain separated the backstage area from what Sophie assumed was the catwalk.

“When I told my parents I wanted to be an F1 driver, I never imagined it would involve anything like this” Sophie gulped.

“Ah, I don’t think any of us did” Nico sighed as he clapped Sophie on the shoulder.

“You’re Sophie Knightsbridge, yes?” A brunette woman in her 40’s approached Sophie almost out of thin air, catching her by surprise. Sophie just nodded. “Ah, you’re right on time. Come with me” She spoke with a French accent and walked a few hurried steps away before turning around. “Are you another driver or her boyfriend?” She asked Nico, completely straight faced.

Nico tried and failed to suppress his laughter before replying. “Driver, I’m Nico Dumont from Alpha Tauri”.

“Ah, good” And the woman turned round again, marching towards a pair of free vanity tables, as Nico let out some more repressed giggles.

“Of course you’re already more famous than me Cherie” Nico shook his head and hung his garment bag off the back of the make-up chair he was directed to.

“My name’s Marie” The woman finally introduced herself, and gestured for Sophie to sit down. “I’ll be doing your hair and make-up for the show” She explained while trying to peer through the small plastic window on Sophie’s garment bag. “What style is your dress?”

“Rose pink satin, it’s strapless” Marie just hummed in reply while she examined Sophie’s hair and hands. She frowned at how short Sophie’s nails were. “I can’t wear false nails when I’m in the car” Sophie huffed somewhat defensively. She had always kept her nails short out of necessity for both practicality and comfort, filed down to just past the tips of her fingers.

“That’s okay, we wouldn’t have had the time to put them on anyway. Can we paint them at least?”

“Sure” Sophie nodded, and Marie sprinted off to get something, saying that someone would be along to work on Nico shortly. Sophie pulled her phone out of her pocket to quickly text Richard that she had made it to the event safe, sound, and crucially on time. He texted back, both wishing her luck and saying that James was meant to be arriving soon as well.

“Ohhhhh no way!” Nico exclaimed, looking at his own phone with a wide smile.

“What is it?” Sophie asked cautiously, putting her phone into her backpack before turning to look at her friend. Nico gleefully passed over his phone, which was opened on the memories page of his Facebook account, and Sophie audibly gasped at the picture.

“No, you’re kidding!” The picture was of Sophie and Nico, both aged 14, stood on the podium with another driver (Nico had won, with Sophie in second) at the first international karting race they had both competed in together. Incidentally, they had only met each other for the first time the day before, when Nico had rescued a 9 year old Will from picking a fight with another kid who wasn’t exactly keen on being out-qualified by a girl.

Nico had eventually reunited Will with the rest of the Knightsbridge family, and Mark and Mary were so relieved that they offered Nico and his family to join them for dinner, once they found out the Dumonts were staying at the same hotel. Sophie and Nico had been friends ever since. “What do you mean I’ve been enduring you and your nonsense for ten years?”

Nico threw his head back and laughed as Sophie handed back his phone with a smirk. She was joking of course. Truthfully, she had no idea where she would be if she didn’t have Nico to turn to for advice, or to fight her corner. Something which Sophie gladly paid back in return without hesitation. She remembered Nico calling her on the eve of his F1 debut last year, as he tried to shake off any remaining nerves. He’d ended up dragging his Alpha Tauri into 9th place.

“Ah,” Nico grinned, reaching out for Sophie’s hand to give it a tight squeeze. “I love you too”

Eventually, Marie returned with a toolkit of make-up brushes, and goodness knew what else in a large pouch with more pockets than Sophie could count tied round her waist. She got to work on Sophie’s nails first, painting them a shimmering gold, before putting Sophie’s hair in large rollers. Much to Nico’s delight, as he took multiple pictures and videos of the entire affair to post on Instagram later.

“Have you ever been in a fashion show before?” Marie asked as she finished Sophie’s make-up with a few coats of mascara.

“It’s not something racing drivers normally do” Sophie sighed and pressed her lips together (though not too hard as to smudge her lipstick).

“Ah well,” Marie paused, taking a step back to look over her work. “You are certainly beautiful enough for it. Charlotte!” A younger woman, much closer to Sophie’s age, with strawberry blonde hair tied in a high ponytail shot up from one of the small sofas, and made a beeline for Marie and Sophie. “This is Charlotte, she’ll be your dresser”

“Oh, I’m done?” Sophie asked hesitantly, slowly reaching down for her backpack.

“Yes, all done” Marie smiled and handed Sophie’s garment bag over to Charlotte. Nico had left a few minutes ago, since he had less hair to style into place. Sophie politely thanked Marie for taking care of her and followed Charlotte’s hurried footsteps to one of the cubicles. The show was still a couple of hours away from starting, but the drivers were required to walk the red carpet first.

“It’s so nice to meet you” Charlotte smiled at Sophie brightly as she held open the curtain to one of the cubicles. “I had no idea women could be racing drivers until this year, I know you haven’t won a race yet, but I think what you’re doing is amazing”

“Well…” Sophie blushed, not really knowing what to say. Charlotte was far from being the first woman Sophie had met this year to be wowed by her presence. “I’m not the first, not in F1 anyway”

“Yes, you’re number six!” Charlotte replied excitedly as she closed the curtain and unzipped the garment bag, revealing Sophie’s strapless, calf length satin dress. "Oh what a beautiful dress! What label is it?"

"H&M" Sophie blushed as she toed out of her espadrilles. If Charlotte thought any less of it, she didn't show it as she slid to dress off the hanger while Sophie quickly undressed. "I didn't know being a professional dresser was a thing"

"Yes! Fashion shows are always so busy" Charlotte replied as Sophie stepped into the dress, and held it up as Charlotte zipped up the back. "Ah, perfect fit. Though I'll use some tape, just in case" Charlotte produced a roll of body tape from a bag at her hips. "Don't worry, it won’t damage the dress" She smiled reassuringly as she attached two pieces to the top of the dress, and gently pressed them down. "Any jewellery?"

"Uh yeah, in my bag" Sophie walked over to her backpack, and pulled out a shoebox, and a much smaller black velvet box. And as Charlotte took out Sophie's shoes, she audibly reacted when Sophie opened the small jewellery box, revealing a pair of small teardrop pearl and diamond earrings. "They were my grandmother's, on my Dad's side"

"They're very pretty, let me get your necklace" Both pieces were set in gold, and the necklace featured five small rice pearls scattered along the chain. Charlotte fastened it so it sat just on Sophie’s collarbone. "All done, you look beautiful" Sophie had avoided looking at the full length mirror in front of her out of fear at what she'd see back. It turned out that in all the time since breaking up with Tom to now, she'd forgotten how pretty she was.

Rose gold eyeshadow enhanced the swirls of brown in Sophie’s eyes, her cheekbones had been accented just enough to bring them out and add a small bit of definition to her face, and her lips had been painted a rosy nude shade that complimented her skin perfectly. Her look had been finished off with a blush of soft pink on her cheeks, and her hair that had been styled into large loose curls framed her face perfectly.

"What's wrong? Do you not like it?" Charlotte asked suddenly as Sophie’s eyes dropped to the floor. She wasn't sure how to reply.

"No, no I just... it's been a while since I..." Sophie glanced into the mirror again, noting that the rose satin dress gave her figure more of an hourglass shape than what she naturally had. "I don't get to dress up that often" She blushed, stepping into her suede nude heels. Charlotte had seemingly read between the lines, as she gave Sophie a knowing look.

"Well, you should. Oh, one more thing. Can you hold your hair back?" Sophie did as she was told, and felt a small dab of something wet on the back of her neck. "Eyelash glue, it will hold your necklace in place when you walk down the runway" Sophie felt the necklace clasp being pressed against her skin. "There, now you're ready" Charlotte said with a triumphant smile. "Your things will be put in a locker, just come and find me once everything's wrapped up" Already she had pulled back the cubicle curtain, and Sophie found herself rooted in place. "Own it" Charlotte said, tilting her head towards the backstage area. “No one has the right to make you feel uncomfortable in your own skin”

And after taking in a deep breath, Sophie stepped out of the cubicle, realising that Charlotte and Marie had put too much effort into Sophie for her to just hide in a corner. So she walked over towards where the drivers were supposed to wait, in the hope Nico would be waiting for her as promised.

James couldn’t remember the last time he’d been at Amber Lounge, it might even have been as far back as when he was still driving for Aston Martin, but he wasn’t sure. Normally it was an event saved for the rookies and younger drivers. But the team had convinced James into going by saying how great it would be for their most recent world champion and most recent podium finisher to be seen together at the same event. Especially since McLaren were starting to think about gearing up for their 60th anniversary celebrations.

Plus, it was either the fashion show or a yacht party, and James hated yacht parties. At least this way he’d be with some of his fellow drivers, as he found himself catching up with Aaron Jones.

The dress code for the fashion show was formal, but not black tie, so the male drivers had a small bit of leeway in what kind of suits they could wear. James had opted for a three-piece charcoal and navy check suit, with a white shirt and burgundy tie – formal, but not completely bland.

“Is that Sophie?” Aaron asked out of the blue as he looked over his shoulder. James turned his head to look in the same direction and did indeed find himself looking at his team mate. He’d found himself noticing her a lot more than usual so far this weekend. But not in a ‘she was always the first person he saw’ kind of way. No, Sophie was the person he’d spot as he glanced round the room, then he couldn’t take his eyes off her.

“Oh wow” James said without realising. “Look at you!” He said louder, in a more affectionately teasing way, as Sophie walked over towards them. She blushed as she clasped her hands behind her back. “You look great Soph”

“Thanks… you haven’t seen Nico have you?”

“I think he went out to make a phone call” Aaron interjected before pulling his own phone out of his pocket, and asked to take a selfie with the two McLaren drivers. Sophie’s face lit up with relief when Nico arrived, in his pale blue suit, white shirt and black tie, and the two friends teased each other about how well they scrubbed up. James happily obliged when Sophie asked him to take their picture, and he couldn’t help but notice his team mate’s first genuine smile of the evening.

A few minutes later the drivers were eventually shooed off to the red carpet, which passed by in a blur of flashes and slightly forced smiles, and they found themselves seated on the front row so that when the time came for the driver’s slot they wouldn’t get in anyone’s way as they left. And for publicity purposes, of course.

As James sat down he smoothed down his tie, and as he inhaled he smelt the faint whiff of something sweet and floral. He took in what he thought was a subtle deeper breath, but it caused Sophie to quietly grown.

“I knew I put on too much perfume” She muttered, rapidly tapping her fingers against her leg. She was sat in-between James and Nico, who was chatting away to Marc Pavard in French.

“Oh no it’s fine really, I just wanted to know what it was. That’s all”

“You’re just saying that so I won’t get embarrassed” Sophie scoffed and looked down at the floor. “Orange blossom, for what it’s worth” She said quietly as the lights dimmed and the opening segment of the fashion show got underway.

After about half an hour or so, the drivers were quietly led backstage, and filed into order by one of the directors. It didn’t seem like the drivers were in a particular order – until James and Sophie were left until last, arguably being the most high profile of those present.

“You alright team mate?” James half-turned to look behind him, and saw Sophie looking blankly into the distance. “Hey” He reached out to gently place a hand on her forearm, and it worked in getting her attention without startling her. “Just… take a deep breath in and pretend you’re walking over to me to say hello”

“Uh huh…” Sophie hummed, pressing her lips together.

“Or, think about how happy your Gran would be to know her jewellery was getting shown off in Monaco of all places” He remembered Nico saying something about Sophie’s necklace and earrings when they left for the red carpet, and that netted Sophie’s second proper smile of the night.

“Thanks, don’t break a leg” She replied back.

“I’ll try” James chuckled, and turned round right as a group of models rushed backstage to change into their next outfits. There was a brief pause before the drivers segment was introduced to feverish applause, and a slick guitar riff started playing over the speakers, followed by a steady beat as Nico made his way onto the catwalk.

When it came to James’ turn he flashed a bright smile for the crowd as he walked down to the end of the catwalk, paused for a few seconds, then turned around. Only to be frozen in place. Sophie wasn’t just smiling as she walked out, but beaming – making her look absolutely beautiful.

And that terrified James beyond all belief.

Maybe all the long days at the track were starting to pile up, maybe it was because they genuinely got on with each other, or maybe it was because Sophie was exactly James’ type: friendly, smart and gorgeous, that he realised he maybe didn’t just like her as a team mate.

Shit, he’d told himself that wasn’t going to happen.

Working on automatic pilot, with his smile still fixed into place, James walked back to the top of the catwalk to stand in formation with the other drivers. And as she walked past Sophie, the pair briefly smiled at each other, the way good team mates did. Eventually when Sophie re-joined her colleagues as the music ended to more than polite applause, James put a hand on her shoulder and smiled for the cameras. And all he could smell was orange blossom.

He could start burying his feelings in a panic, but maybe with so many races to go until the summer break that wouldn’t be the best idea. Maybe if he just acknowledged it for what it was, a fleeting attraction at seeing her glamorously dressed up for the first time. After all, they’d known each other for four months now. Surely, if James really was attracted to Sophie, he would have felt something long before now. And maybe tonight was just a blip, a lock up on an out lap. Maybe if James registered what he felt, it would go away just as quickly.

Because he really, really, didn’t want to think about the consequences of the alternative.

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 10 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 2 - Launch Day

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 2/57

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: McLaren present their 2023 car and drivers to the world

Monday 30th January – McLaren Technology Centre, Woking

Sophie quietly hummed as the McLaren Technology Centre came into view after she passed the security booth. Weather wise it was a much better day than what it had been two weeks ago, the sky was blue with small white clouds instead of being grey and foreboding.

Her hands tightened ever so slightly around the steering wheel of her car as she followed the road around the front of the factory towards the car park. She drove into the parking space she had been shown on her first day and switched off the car, staring out the windscreen at the black and white sign that designated her very own parking space.

After taking in a deep breath, she undid her seatbelt and opened the car door, stepping out into the cold Winter air. Sophie retrieved her backpack from the back seat before locking the door, and headed towards the staff entrance. Thankfully the car park and paths had been spread with grit, but Sophie still watched her step, as the last thing she wanted was to fall and pick up an injury right before the start of pre-season testing.

When she reached the safety of the staff entrance, Sophie scanned her ID pass and was even more relieved to hear the door lock unclick. She pulled the door open, and stepped inside the empty corridor, and made her way to the staff locker room, that was at the top of a flight of stairs right at the end of the long white passageway.

She pushed open the surprisingly heavy door, and raised her eyebrows when she saw Richard sat on one of the middle benches scrolling through his phone.

“Morning” Sophie said as she walked over towards her locker.

“Morning Sophie!” Richard didn’t look up as he gave a cheery reply.

“Am I late?”

“No, no” Richard briefly looked up from his phone as Sophie looked around the empty room. “You’re actually a little early, one sec” His fingers rapidly flew across his screen, before he let out a small sigh and pocketed the device. “Sorry, launch day is always hectic” He huffed with a small smile as he stood up, and picked up a bundle of items next to him. “Your uniform for the day, you’ll wear your race suit over it for the car launch” Richard passed over the items, all in resealable plastic packets.

“I got your message last night, about the shoes and trousers” As Sophie accepted the items, she slightly extended one of her legs, showing her black straight leg trousers and black oxford brogues.

“Don’t worry, you’re just missing a team shirt… I wasn’t sure which one you would be more comfortable wearing so I picked up all three. There’s some changing cubicles just at the back” Richard said quickly, as it seemed his phone buzzed inside his pocket. “Take as much time as you need”

Sophie bundled the packets in her arms, and walked around the block of lockers until she found a row of five black cubicles against the wall. She went into the nearest one and set the shirts on the bench, and her rucksack on the ground.

“Does it matter which one I wear?” Sophie called out, unsure if Richard could hear her.

“No!” Came the reply.

Sophie hummed as she lay the packets next to each other on the bench, and pulled out each shirt to get a better look at them. One was a button-up shirt in the typical sense, predominantly white with orange piping; the polo shirt and t-shirt were the same: orange with sky blue accents on the shoulders. All three were covered in the same brand logos, with the team name on the front left, and written across the back.

Eventually, she opted for the white button up shirt. It had t-shirt length sleeves (both had even more sponsor logos embroidered on) and was fitted, but not uncomfortably tight. After putting the t-shirt and jumper she’d worn on the drive over back in her backpack, and the other two shirts back in their packets, Sophie stepped out of the cubicle and headed back to her locker, where Richard was still rapidly scrolling and typing on his phone.

“I’m surprised that hasn’t burst into flames already”

Richard let out a small chuckle as Sophie put her backpack into the locker.

“There’s time yet,” He paused to look up at his driver. “Ah you look great! Just missing your cap, but that’s for interviews later… the shirts we can drop off into the office on our way past…” Richard then broke out into a speedy overview of the day’s schedule as he led Sophie out of the locker room and along another corridor. Sophie was beginning to realise that she was glad to be driving the car as opposed to having Richard’s job.

After a quick dive into what Sophie assumed was one of the PR offices, they made their way down various corridors and flights of stairs, until Richard opened the doors to Mission Control. Normally it was where the factory based engineers would follow race weekends from, but today it was playing host to the team’s car launch.

It was very appropriately named, as Sophie felt as if she’d stepped out of the McLaren factory and into a room at NASA. There at least four of five rows of tiered tables that arced round each level, with office chairs neatly spaced along each row, with each chair accompanied by a monitor and headset. At the bottom was an oval shaped space that perhaps normally contained more seating, but today was almost entirely taken up by the MCL23, which had been covered by black fabric adorned with the McLaren logo on the front.

“Oh wow” Today was the first day that majority of the team, and the wider world, would see the 2023 car in one piece for the first time, and even the mere hint of it caused Sophie’s heartrate to quicken.

“If you come with me, I think you’ll know one of our hosts” Richard led Sophie down the steps and sadly past the covered car, where two smartly dressed people were being fitted with microphones while talking to another one of the team’s press officers. “Do you have a minute Amy?”

Sophie kicked herself for not recognising her mentor’s bright copper hair sooner. Amy McDonald had been a test driver for Renault over five years ago, she never made it to F1 proper, but she was the most recent on the list of female drivers that had helped to break the tarmac ceiling. Nowadays, Amy was part of Channel 4’s F1 team, both as a presenter and commentator.

And she almost welled up at the sight of Sophie in her team uniform.

“Oh Sophie” She took a few steps over towards her and enveloped Sophie in a strong hug that lasted for almost half a minute. “Well done” Amy finally said after clearing her throat.

“Well, you’re one journalist I won’t have to worry about” Sophie joked. Amy chuckled in reply, and patted under her eyes with her ring finger.

“Good luck today, not that you need it”

“Thanks Amy”

Richard led Sophie back towards the rear of the room as James appeared with who Sophie assumed was his press officer in tow. He was wearing the same style of shirt as Sophie, also with black trousers and shoes. His short deep brown hair had been lightly styled and he wore his trademark designer stubble as he walked down the steps with ease.

“Good morning!” He called out to his colleagues with an almost blinding smile.

“Morning” Sophie and Richard smiled back.

“This is Katie my press officer, not sure if you’ve had the chance to meet” James stepped aside and introduced Katie, who was slightly taller than Sophie, with deeply tanned skin and her braided hair styled into a low bun. The pair shook hands, both pleased to meet each other, before attention returned to the event at hand.

“Press will be here in five… ah there’s the bosses arriving now. Your race suits and boots are at the back. Get changed into them now, then you can get into your seats” Richard rattled off while looking around the room and at his watch.

“This way” James leaned down into Sophie’s ear as Richard and Katie darted off to speak to Martin and Andrew. The drivers walked back up the stairs they’d both came in, and James led Sophie two seats down the back row. “How are you feeling?” He asked, picking up his race suit.

Sophie had mainly spoken to James during simulator sessions, and in the meetings afterwards. They were both still getting used to each other, and the idea of being team mates for the upcoming season.

“Fine” She replied, taking off her shoes as James held out her race overalls. Sophie had to resist the urge to gasp as she took them in her hands, and saw her surname on the waist next to a small British flag. Wanting to look professional in front of her team mate, Sophie stepped into her overalls and carefully put her arms into the sleeves, trying not to rumple her shirt. She put on her race boots, finally zipped up her overalls, and pressed down the Velcro fastening at the top letting out a small sigh.

Once they were ‘dressed’, Katie returned to show Sophie and James to their seats on the front row after fitting them both with microphones. Sophie was sat furthest in, with James on her left, Andrew and Martin took the two free seats on the end, both of them leaning over to check that their drivers were okay, right as at least twenty journalists appeared through a side door to the left of the room.

“Take your seats quickly please, we’re due to go live in five minutes!” Richard called out before almost jogging over the room towards Sophie. “Don’t worry about them, you’ve got this” He gave her a smile and a nod of the head before dashing back over to the other side of the room.

Sophie let out a quiet shaky sigh, she could feel her palms begin to sweat, she didn’t need to look at the journalists too long to see that almost all their eyes were trained on her every move.

“It only gets worse from here I’m afraid” James murmured in Sophie’s direction.

“I can’t wait for testing” Sophie huffed, briefly looking down at her hands that were knotted in her lap.

“You might not believe this,” James paused as someone called out a two minute warning. “But you do eventually get used to being stared at by the sharks”.

Sophie wasn’t sure if it was the whole comment or just the metaphor that made her laugh, but she let out a small, restrained chuckle, wary that Martin and Andrew might hear. (Even though, they were silently both thrilled that their drivers seemed to be getting along).

“Thirty seconds!”

A steady hush filled the room, as Amy and her co-host took their places at the bottom of the steps.

“And live in five, four, three, two, one…”

The launch seemed to go by in a strange blur, after the opening remarks by the hosts, various VTs were played on the main screen, one of which included a highlight reel of McLaren’s races last season. Between them, James and Nathan Watkins had won seven races, putting McLaren second in the Constructor’s Championship.

Sophie quietly gulped, no pressure then.

Eventually her and James were called out of their seats while one last VT played, a montage of the car’s first fire-up, and some shots of James and Sophie walking around the factory and driving in the simulator. They were brought to their places, adjacent to the front end of the car with James stood closest to it. As the closing seconds of the VT played out for those watching the live stream, Amy looked over at Sophie, and gave her another firm nod, before mouthing ‘You’ve got this’.

Sophie took in a deep breath, and reminded herself of the one overarching piece of advice everyone within her support network had given her that morning.

Just be yourself.

So instead of forcing a dazzling smile that she didn’t feel like giving, her face was somewhat relaxed, her smile smaller, but warmer, as the lights in the room rose.

James and Sophie had gone over what to say in their quick interviews with their press officers the day before; James spoke of the exciting challenge of a new season, Sophie mentioned the honour of driving for a team like McLaren in her rookie year, and that the weight of her presence in F1 wasn’t lost on her.

“And now…” Any paused, for dramatic effect now doubt, looking first at her co-host, and then back to the two drivers. “I think it’s the moment we have all been waiting for”

“Absolutely… James, Sophie, would you like to reveal the McLaren MCL23 to the world?”

At that, Sophie genuinely beamed as her and James moved into place on either side of the car, and bent down to take a corner each of the black cloth. On cue, both drivers walked towards the rear of the car, taking the fabric with them, and after a somewhat dramatic light show, McLaren’s 2023 car sat for all to see in its Papaya Orange glory. The livery was accented with streaks of sky blue and of course, copious amounts of sponsor logos.

But what took Sophie’s breath away, was the number 16, her race number, on one of the rear wing endplates. For the first time the reality of it all was finally starting to sink in.

“Well, it certainly looks fast, what do you think?”

Sophie stared at the car wide eyed, wanting take in as much of it as possible. The low nose and front wing morphed into the cockpit with protective halo and sidepods, before narrowing again around the engine, with the rear wing jutting up out of the floor. She gave a small, almost dreamy sigh, barely able to take her eyes off the car.

“I can’t wait to drive it!”

Right after the live stream ended, the press officers collected their drivers, let them quickly shed their race overalls and change their shoes, before taking them back out for quick interviews with the invited journalists, as well as filming pieces for the team’s social media channels. It all flew by in a couple of hours, and afterwards Sophie found herself in the staff canteen, nursing an espresso, after having just finished her lunch.

She was sat alone by choice, so she could finally have a moment to herself. Mainly to think.

Sophie’s gaze was fixed out of the large floor to ceiling windows, from the lake, to the scattering of trees at the edge of the factory’s grounds, to the sky – that looked ever so slightly brighter than what it had done in the morning.

She carefully sipped her coffee, both hands wrapped around the white cup, wondering if a particular can of worms would be worth opening. She looked down into the cup, and swirled the dark liquid round slowly, weighing up all the various pros, cons and potential outcomes, and made her decision.

Sophie took one last gulp of her drink, pocketed her phone, and stood up from her table, taking her plate, mug and cutlery over to the main counter, and headed in the direction of the PR offices. The exact layout of the McLaren factory was still an unknown to Sophie, but after twenty minutes of wandering around, she managed to find the office she was looking for without asking for directions.

She knocked on the white door three times, and let out a small sigh of relief when a voice said she could come in. When she opened the door and was relieved to find the exact person she was looking for sat alone in the office behind one of the desks.

“Sophie!” Richard looked up from his computer with a smile, and stood up from his chair. “I thought you would have been on your way home by now, everything okay?”

Sophie took in a small breath as she closed the door behind her. Richard had been nothing but kind and respectful towards her since the day they’d met, and she had no reason to believe that it wasn’t genuine.

“Is there a place in private where we could talk?” She asked quietly. The smile fell off Richard’s face, but he walked over towards her, and pressed a button above the light switch.

“There’s lights outside most offices that you can put on if you need to have a private meeting,” Richard explained. “So, would you want to have a seat or…” It looked like Richard raised a hand to put on Sophie’s shoulder, but he gestured over to his desk instead.

Sophie nodded, as she nervously started to rub circles into her left ring finger.

“I uh…” Unfortunately, Sophie hadn’t properly thought out what she was going to say, so she waited for Richard to pull up a chair next to her. “I know that everything I do from today onwards will reflect on the team, both professionally and personally… and I’m aware that also applies to things I’ve done in the past as well-”

“Well, so long as it’s nothing illegal, me and the team can handle it” Richard said softly, with a reassuring smile.

“It’s just…” Sophie paused as she felt a lump start to form in her throat. “Because I’m the first female driver in over thirty years, everyone is going to be looking at everything I do or have done. Drivers, other teams, tabloid journalists…”

“Sophie what are you…” Richard asked, sounding perplexed. She assumed the look in his face was the same, since her eyes were now permanently fixed on her left hand.

“My boyfriend proposed to me the day I signed my contract back in December… and the short story is that I broke up with him not even a week after” The words almost tumbled out of Sophie’s mouth, as a few stray tears fell out of her eyes.

For a few moments, the small office was completely silent, until Richard put his arm round Sophie’s shoulders.

“Well… if anyone ever finds out, it won’t be a problem” Richard gave Sophie’s shoulders a gentle squeeze, before pulling something out of his pocket. “Here” He handed over a small pocket of tissues, which caused Sophie to finally look up at her press officer, and the kind look he had in his eyes. “It’s not just personal trainers that have to look after their drivers”

Sophie took the packet of tissues from Richard’s hand, and pulled one out the packet to dry her eyes.

“You can sit here for a few minutes if you’d like, I’m just going over the schedule for pre-season testing”

“A press officer’s work is never done” Sophie said as Richard got up out of his chair, he let out a small chuckle.

“Oh... you have no idea!”

#my writing #LITFL Chapters #Life In The Fast Lane

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racingliners · 10 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 1 - Meeting

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 1/57

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: New faces, and first meetings

Monday 9th January 2023 – Woking

The hotel room was exquisite – or at least was styled to be. The walls and floor were a similar shade of chocolate brown, with a cream coloured double bed sat in the middle pressed up against a quilted headrest that reached right up to the ceiling. Sophie was sat in a caramel coloured armchair, her back firmly pressed against the small cushion as she stared out of the window. All she could really see was trees and the occasional house, not that the view really mattered because she was far too nervous to appreciate it anyway.

Arguably, today was about to be one of the biggest days of her whole life. Her first visit to the McLaren Technology Centre, the home of her brand new team.

She sighed and stood up from the chair and glanced at her silver watch (a sponsor requirement, courtesy of Tag Heuer). Apparently Sophie needed to be driven to the factory for her first day, and someone from the team would be waiting for her in the lobby at exactly 9am, and that was fifteen long, long minutes away.

She had known back in December just what a big deal her Formula 1 debut was going to be, it wasn’t going to matter that she was a British driver driving for a British team, or how long it had been since a woman last raced in F1. She was the first woman to finish on a podium, win a race and championship in just about every feeder series she had raced in. So when McLaren came calling after Nathan Watkins announced he was going to pastures new, Sophie said yes without any hesitation, not even thinking about the mass of media attention she was going to get. Maybe that was why McLaren had paid for such a nice hotel room.

She decided to walk into the bathroom, that in complete contrast to the rest of the room was stark white with marble style panelling on the walls, and every fixture finished in silver chrome. Sophie looked at her outfit again for the third time and sighed, burying her hands into her wavy hair. In the email the team had sent her she was told to dress smart-casual, and considering that it was the middle of Winter she didn’t fancy wearing a dress. So she’d picked a hunter green blouse with a pleated collar and flowy sleeves that met in a satin cuff around her wrists, paired with black skinny jeans and dark brown brogues. Sensible footwear to hopefully help her walk through the slush without falling flat on her face.

Sophie felt comfortable in her decision to not wear anything more on her face than tinted moisturiser and lip balm as she checked her phone again, re-reading the messages from her family, personal trainer Vanessa and a few of her close friends. All of them wishing her well on her first day. Just as she was about to slide her phone into her pocket it rang, her manager’s name flashing on the screen.

“Hey Becks” Sophie sighed as she let herself fall backwards into the bed. “I hope you’re not calling to tell me that McLaren have changed their mind”

“Thankfully, no” Becks, or Rebecca to everyone else, replied with a small sigh. She had been Sophie’s manager for just over three years, and was one of the reasons why Sophie had been able to rise through the motorsport feeder series, as well as arranging the elusive McLaren deal. “I’m just checking that you’re still in one piece”

“Just about” Sophie replied quietly, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m leaving in a few minutes”

“You’ll be fine. Trust me. And if it all goes to pot you can win over the mechanics today at least” Sophie just hummed in response, she was already dreading just how she was going to be perceived. Female racing drivers were apparently like unicorns, and successful female racing drivers were supposedly like blue moons. “I know it sounds stupid and I know you’re coming off the back of you-know-what, but you’re going to be okay. I’m sure of it”

“Thanks Becks” Sophie sighed, standing up from the bed as the time on her watch was now approaching five to nine.

“And try to kick a little bit of arse today”

“I will, bye!” Sophie let out a small chuckle, and hung up. Allowing her manager to have her much needed morning espresso.

Refusing to let her nerves get the better of her, and the fact it was almost nine o’clock, Sophie put her phone into her handbag, pulled on her long black coat, picked up her small leather handbag and left the safety of her hotel room. She opted to use the stairs instead of the lift and huffed when she walked into the large reception area, looking around for whoever was supposed to be meeting her. All she had to go on was a name – Richard Wilson – and that he worked in the team’s PR department, having spoken with him on the phone yesterday to confirm the day’s schedule.

She made her way across the room, past the reception desk and towards an area to the side scattered with armchairs and coffee tables, all yet again in varying shades of brown. Sophie spotted an empty one to sit at and wait for the mysterious Richard to appear, when he ended up finding her first.

“Excuse me” Sophie turned round and put on a polite smile. “Richard Wilson, from McLaren” Richard was tall, probably just brushing six foot, but then again anyone looked tall next to Sophie’s five-foot four frame. He had jet black hair and small warm brown eyes; and appeared to be smiling at her genuinely as he held out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you”

“Lovely to meet you too Richard” Sophie allowed herself to smile a little more as she shook Richard’s hand, she suddenly felt a bit foolish to not have her manager Becks by her side. Even though they both knew that Sophie had to get through today by herself.

“We should probably get going, the factory is only a couple of miles away, but you know what traffic is like when there’s even a hint of snow”

Sophie gave a puff of air and a chuckle in response, she knew that problem all too well. She followed Richard out of the hotel entrance and towards the car park, stopping when they reached a black Mercedes. “I wish this was mine, but I’ve just been leant it for the day, hop in”

“The team just let you have a brand new off the line Merc?” Sophie asked as she got in the front passenger seat, admiring the grey interior. Richard just sighed as he leaned back in his seat before starting the car and fastening his seatbelt.

“Pretty sure it’s the team trying to give you a good first impression” Richard whispered with a shrug as he slowly drove out of the hotel car park, heading straight for the McLaren Technology Centre.

James sighed as he polished off his latte, sat in the canteen looking out over the lake that hugged the factory building. It was an awfully cold grey day in Woking, considering that James was British he really should have been used to it, but maybe living in Monaco for as long as he’d had was having a greater effect on him than he thought.

He was supposed to be meeting his new team mate today, he didn’t know anything about her other than a name, the picture that had been used in the team’s press release, and that she was the first female F1 driver since 1992. Sophie Knightsbridge was all who anyone in F1 could be talking about all Winter Break.

As James pondered whether or not that was a good thing, Katie from PR appeared and made a bee line for him.

“Richard just texted, he’s a few minutes away. You should probably head upstairs” James nodded, and picked up his empty coffee cup to take it back over to the serving counter. “You don’t need to be part of the welcome brigade, but I take it you know where you’re going?”

“My days of getting lost around here are far behind me” James chuckled as he left the canteen and headed towards one of the spiral stairs that sat in the middle of the promenade. He paused as he climbed the stairs to briefly check his phone, before walking with his hands in his pockets towards the meeting room.

It turned out that Richard was incredibly chatty, though Sophie did wonder if he was compensating for her near silence. It was nice however for someone to take interest in who she was, rather than what she did.

“So, how big of an entourage should we be expecting at testing?” Richard joked as they passed through another set of traffic lights.

“No one really, not until the final test anyway. But it’ll just be my parents since my brother’s going back to uni soon”

“Ah, no boyfriend then?” Sophie didn’t expect to be so taken aback by that question, she took in a sharp breath before answering quietly.

“No, no boyfriend” Richard hummed and stayed quiet for a moment, half realising he had hit a sore spot. The car stayed quiet for a couple of minutes before Richard started speaking again, pretending as if nothing had happened.

“Have you been to the factory before then?”

“No” Sophie sighed leaning back in her seat. “My deal was done in a bit of a hurry, since the team wanted all the paperwork done before Christmas, so I signed the contract in some London hotel” She had to admit though, Sophie would never be forgetting that day in a hurry.

“Yeah that sounds like Andrew” Richard hummed as he turned off a roundabout, and quickly slowed as he approached a security checkpoint. “Morning Jamie” The press officer pulled an ID Card out of his pocket and showed it to the man on duty.

“What on earth did you do to let them give you that?” The security guard huffed in disbelief, eyeing up the black Mercedes.

“It’s just for today sadly, pretty sure it’s just to show off” Richard leaned back and gestured to Sophie, who had already pulled out her passport. The guard’s eyes widened as he stared at her for a few silent moments.

“Lovely to meet you Miss, considering I saw your face in every paper last month I’ll let you off just this once” Jamie wagged a finger has he pressed a button to raise the security arm. “Have a nice day now” Richard waved goodbye to the guard as he slowly drove away.

“Well then, welcome to the factory”

The McLaren Technology Centre was a flat, semi-circular four-story high building sat next to a huge lake that from above helped from a full circle. Panes of glass completely covered the front of the building, it was difficult to see from the road that ran parallel to the edge of the lake, but Sophie could just make out a row of Formula 1 cars inside. It was surprisingly grand for a building that wasn’t even twenty years old, but it really did make a statement. Sophie let out a long slow whistle as Richard pulled the car to a stop right by the front door.

“On a normal day you’ll have to use the car park at the back, but like I said the bosses are really laying it on thick today” Richard sighed as he switched off the car and held the keys in his hands. “One day I’ll be able to afford this, come on” Richard got out first and handed the keys to another member of McLaren staff, who Richard instructed to be very careful when driving the Merc back to the showroom.

Sophie took in a deep breath before getting out of the car, and slowly walked round to meet Richard. She walked by his side as they approached the large glass doors with her shoulders back and her head held high, if she wasn’t feeling completely confident Sophie was at least going to try and look it.

The glass doors slid open automatically and standing on the other side was Team Principle Martin Hawkins alongside Team CEO Andrew White. Sophie smiled brightly as Martin greeted her.

“Good morning Sophie, nice to see you” She just smiled as Martin shook her hand before making way for Andrew.

“Welcome to the team at last, we can give you a your of the factory later but we should probably head upstairs” Richard happily lead the way while Martin and Andrew walked with Sophie, asking her menial things about the weather, how the drive over was, if her hotel was adequate enough, and how they were planning on her running in the simulator the next day (that was the only thing that got a genuinely excited response). And before Sophie knew it Richard was holding the door to a meeting room wide open, and Martin and Andrew were leading her inside.

James wasn’t entirely sure why he stood up when Richard opened the door, but he did. He smoothed down the front of his shirt and adjusted his cufflinks, looking up right as his new team mate entered the room. The first thing he thought upon seeing her was that she was shorter than pictures suggested, and that her smile was almost blinding.

“Hi I’m James. It’s nice to meet you” He stepped forward with a hand outstretched, he almost smiled with relief when she shook it straight away.

“Sophie, nice to meet you too” As she spoke James was reminded that his team mate was another Brit, from Northampton… or was it Northamptonshire? He couldn’t quite remember, and made a mental note to ask at the earliest opportunity. She took the empty seat next to him none the less, after taking off her coat and hanging it on the back of the chair.

The meeting didn’t last long, fifteen to twenty minutes at most, and it wasn’t really a proper meeting as such. More the higher up management and a few of the more important board members getting acquainted with their new driver, plus five minutes at the end roughly going over the schedule for testing and the first half of the season.

When everything was done everyone around the table stood up, with the suits and other important people going to leave after shaking Sophie’s hand.

“Oh one more thing Sophie-” Martin said, once it was just him, Richard and the two drivers left. “I just want to be clear, if anyone within the team makes you feel unwelcome, or is in any way disrespectful towards you. I want you to tell me straight away, so we can nip any of that behaviour in the bud” Johnathan carefully watched Sophie’s reaction. She looked taken aback before a grateful smile washed over her face.

“Thank you Martin, I really appreciate it” Sophie nodded before hanging her handbag and coat off the crook of her arm.

“I can take Sophie to get her ID pass and locker key before we go ahead with the tour” Richard smiled, clapping his hands together eagerly. James stayed stood on the spot, knowing that his presence wasn’t really required but also that it would be very rude of him to just leave.

“Yes good idea, then the hard work starts tomorrow” Martin’s remark did get a small laugh and smile out of James’ new team mate. Just as Richard and Sophie were about to leave he took a step forward, wanting to be as polite as possible.

“Enjoy the tour, hopefully you won’t get lost”

“Thanks James” Sophie smiled a bright, confident smile. “See you later” And with a sparkle in her hazel eyes and a swish of dark auburn waves, she was gone.

“I hope you won’t have any problems with this” Martin looked at his driver sternly, he’d deliberately waited a few moments after the door had closed before speaking.

“Of course not. Sophie seems qualified enough to be here, why shouldn’t she be given a chance?” James bounced up on his toes with his hands in his pockets while Martin tapped his foot and looked out of the window.

“I can only hope that everyone else in the paddock will be just as welcoming”

Almost an hour and a half and a full tour of the factory later, Sophie found herself in the canteen with Richard as Martin had left to go back to his office. Her day was almost over, all that was left was for her to meet her mechanics and race engineer before she was free to go back to her hotel and prepare from her run in the team’s simulator the next day.

The canteen was filled with light thanks to the floor to ceiling windows that gave everyone a view of the lake and the vast areas of greenery outside the factory, which could be seen now that the grey clouds were starting to split and let through the odd ray of sunshine.

“So what’ll it be?” Richard asked as he led the way towards the bar.

“Tea. Earl Grey with milk and sugar… no. Better make it sweetener, or my personal trainer will kill me” Seanagh sighed, not wanting to change her preferred mug of tea, or upset Vanessa. Richard happily ordered and paid for their drinks and led Sophie over to a free table. Each one of them was the same, a stark white square with matching chairs that contrasted the dark grey floor. “The team has a very distinct colour scheme” Sophie observed as she took in her surroundings.

“That’s Andrew’s input, everything has to be just so with him. He refused to change a cracked tile on the boulevard once because the replacement wasn’t the exact same colour”

“You’re joking” Sophie scoffed, her eyes wide open. Andrew White had quite the reputation in F1, but she didn’t expect his want for perfection to be so militant.

“But you, hopefully, shouldn’t have to worry about him too much. He’s surprisingly understanding about rookies needing time to settle in” Richard shrugged and sipped away at his latte. “You’ll be fine”

“I’ve got enough people to impress as it is” Sophie chewed on her bottom lip and glanced out of the window.

“It’s the same for everyone” She knew Richard was just trying to be reassuring, but it did nothing. Ever since she had first sat in a go-kart Sophie had always felt a weight of expectation on her shoulders; she’d been taunted at as a child, many of her competitors and their Dads laughed wondering what a girl was doing there. That had followed her though her entire racing career, even last year when she won her third single seater title, it was never enough for some people. They’d say that she had been lucky, or simply had too good of a car. She knew that she wasn’t going to get a completely warm welcome from the entire F1 paddock at testing.

And if she had to constantly beat James Hewitt to get everyone else’s respect, then so be it.

#LITFL Chapters #my writing #Life In The Fast Lane

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 22 - 2023 Race 17: USA

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 22/57 Word count: 6.2k Summary: Champagne is temporary, history is forever

Saturday 21st October – Circuit of the Americas, Austin

Qualifying was always Benedikt’s favourite part of a race weekend. He didn’t have to think about anything else other than driving the car as fast as possible. No worrying about championship permutations (which was all anyone had been asking him since Thursday), no having to pretend that he and Sophie were nothing more than friends (even though she was very quickly becoming the favourite part of his day), no caring about the rumours that Andretti were in talks to buy out the Haas team. It was just him, and the car.

(Well him, the car, and Harry’s occasional comment on the radio).

It was a warm day in Texas, and as such Matt was holding a small fan in Ben’s direction as he sat in the cockpit. It was the grace period between Q2 and Q3, when everyone could feel the tension in the air in the minutes before the fight for pole position.

Ben ignored the screen showing the global feed and instead had his eyes focused on the timing screen on the left. He’d finished Q2 eight hundredths behind Alistair because he’d had a small lock up at turn 15, and he was determined not to make the same mistake twice.

“Two minutes until green light, wind direction has changed to a tailwind into turn one.” Harry said calmly over the radio.

“Copy.” It meant Benedikt would now have to content with a crosswind through the esses section which made up the bulk of the first sector. It wasn’t ideal, but if Ben could win at the Nürburgring in the pouring rain then he could handle this.

“You’ve got this mate.” Harry radioed back from his station at the far side of the garage, and it was all the confidence boost he needed.

His banker lap put him top of the time sheets, just over a tenth ahead of Alistair while Giovanni was down in 4th. As his mechanics wheeled Benedikt back into the garage he told himself not to think about Ferrari, if he was going to win the championship this weekend as so many expected him to, he would simply have to be on his best form instead of hoping everyone around him made mistakes.

“Where am I losing time?” Ben asked over the radio while his car was fitted with a fresh set of soft tyres. He could feel the buzzing in his veins as he itched to get back out onto the track, surely there was a thousandth of a second he could find that would help him keep a lock on pole position.

“Um,” Harry’s reply sounded hesitant, as if he was contemplating whether or not to let Ben take one risk too many. “You are purple in all three sectors Ben, I don’t want you putting the car in the gravel.”

He made a very valid point.

“I meant it when I said you’ve got this, just don’t give the mechanics any extra work.”

Ben briefly closed his eyes and exhaled a long breath. “Understood.”

Carly, who had been stood at the front of the car keeping an eye on things the whole time, gave Benedikt a reassuring nod. If she had the ability to radio in she would have said something like Harry being a very smart man and that Ben should probably listen to him. Adrenaline was such a fickle thing for a racing driver to master, too little of it and Ben wouldn’t be fast enough for pole, but too much and he’d ruin the lap completely.

When his car was lowered down onto the ground, Ben just told himself not to drive off the edge.

As had been agreed in the morning briefing, Alistair and Benedikt were the last cars to be sent out for their second runs, with Benedikt getting a tow from his teammate.

“Two minutes until the chequered flag, you are all clear behind.” Harry said over the radio as Ben joined the track at turn 1.

He pushed a little harder than he would normally do on an out lap through the esses section just to see how the crosswind felt compared to his first lap, and then carried on as normal making sure to keep a close enough gap to Alistair.

Benedikt turned up the engine mode as he went through the final few corners on Harry’s instruction and perfectly clipped the apex as he turned onto the start-finish straight. He could feel the added slipstream as he climbed the hill towards turn 1, before braking and turning in at just the right places. Benedikt swept the car through turn two before the left-right-left sequence all the way through to the right angled turn 9. After the hairpin of turn 11 came the back straight that right now to Benedikt felt endless, as if the racing gods themselves were stretching out the track just that little bit longer.

Finally he jammed on the brakes for turn 12 and meandered through the twisty final sector before arriving back at turns 19 and 20. Benedikt was so focused on perfectly closing out the lap he almost forgot to brake for turn 1.

“Get in! Well done Benni, that is pole position for tomorrow.”

As had been the case at the six other races this season when he’d secured pole, a wave of relief quickly crashed over him before being replaced sheer joy. Ben fist bumped the air in the cockpit, grinning inside his helmet, before jamming his thumb down on the radio button.

“Yes! Thanks for helping me keep my head on before the second run. The car feels amazing, that felt like the best lap I’ve ever driven. Hopefully we can get the job done tomorrow.”

“Ah, someone has to do it.” Harry radioed back before reeling off the rest of the top ten. Alistair would be starting alongside him tomorrow in P2, Nathan was in P3, Jakobsson in P4 and most importantly Giovanni was down in fifth. “Remember to bring the car into parc fermé, strat mode 6.”

Benedikt made sure to pay every ounce of attention to the dials and buttons on his steering wheel as he made the necessary adjustments, in the hope it would keep the hope starting to bubble inside him at bay. He couldn’t recall what all the various permutations were that would allow him to win the title tomorrow, but starting from pole made it all the more likely to happen.

All of the journalists in the press conference, press pen and the paddock asked Benedikt a variation of the same question, how it felt to have one hand on the world championship trophy. He tried to shrug it off with a small smile and say that anything could happen tomorrow, and that his first priority was to make it to the end of the race in one piece. He was beyond grateful for the quiet of the engineers office where the loudest noise was the sound of fingers clacking on keyboards.

“Well done!” Claudia gave Benedikt a hearty clap on the shoulder when he sat down, her Bavarian accent sounding slightly thicker than normal.

“Still have tomorrow to get through.” Ben let out a long sigh as he opened his notebook, trying to fight back the flash of nerves that had brought out a tiny quiver in his voice. Out of the corner of his eye he could see Alistair glance over at him, sensing the very brief moment of weakness.

Harry finally arrived with three bottles of chilled water for himself and his colleagues, and Ben finished his right as the debrief ended an hour later.

Matt offered to drive back to the hotel. As usual Annika had gotten the minibus back with the team’s press officers, most likely to give Ben the opportunity to vent just to Matt if he felt like it. She really was a press officer for the ages.

“I really thought that I’d be used to all the pressure from the media when I get close to winning a title but…” He paused to let out a long sigh once they were clear of the circuit car park. “I guess I feel worse because there’s so much at stake.”

All Matt gave in reply initially was a small hum, in case Ben had anything more to say. Instead he found himself rubbing circles into the palm of his hand with this thumb.

“Just focus on what you can control.”

Ben let out a small laugh, it was the exact same thing Matt had said to him last year just before the title decider in Abu Dhabi.

“Maybe I’ll watch a movie or something.” Ben said wistfully as Matt drove slowly through downtown Austin, it was later than they should have been making their way back through the city as Benedikt had insisted on staying late with the engineers to make sure he was 100% ready for whatever tomorrow was going to throw at him.

“If you want some recommendations let me know.” Matt said with a smirk as he turned onto the hotel car park. Ben just shook his head with a small laugh, knowing he would probably end up being sent a long list of superhero movies. Instead he waited until Matt had parked the car and handed over the keys before asking.

“Have you seen Roman Holiday?” All Benedikt knew about it was that it was Sophie’s favourite film. A part of him had wanted to wait and watch it for the first time with her, but he also knew that scrolling though Netflix’s endless list of options would probably drive him mad.

“I haven’t even heard of it.” Matt shrugged as he got out of the car and slung his backpack on over his shoulder. “If you watch it let me know what you think.”

“I will.” Ben felt some of the tension in his shoulders ease as they walked into the hotel lobby, the decision apparently made. He and Matt didn’t say much as they waited for the lift to take them to the seventh floor, just that the weather forecast for tomorrow was set to be warm and dry and that Alistair had an extra set of new hard tyres for the race.

Matt didn’t say anything about how Ben only needed to outscore Giovanni by three points tomorrow, or that he didn’t have to bow to the subtle pressure from Edward to secure the title with a race win. Instead he walked Ben all the way to his room, and gave him a warm, firm hug.

“Go watch that film and get some sleep.” He clapped his driver on the shoulder with a bright smile and turned to walk the few paces back to his door.

“You too, if I’m going to win the title tomorrow I can’t have you sleeping on the job.”

Matt let out a laugh so loud Ben silently hoped that no one in the surrounding rooms was asleep. “I’m offended you would even think that!”

Benedikt quietly walked into his room and dumped his backpack on the nearest chair. As always he would put everything in its proper place before he went to bed, but he decided then and there that what he needed was to pretend he was having a lazy day off. So he set the kettle in the kitchen area to boil and looked out a sachet of hot chocolate and went to get changed. He pulled out his laptop and headphones and decided at the last minute to get a hoodie out of his suitcase as well. Not a team branded or sponsor one, but a plain burgundy one that zipped up the middle with large front pockets and a thick hood and lining that was still soft against his skin despite the multiple washes it had been through.

According to the small sachet, the hot chocolate was in fact made from Swiss chocolate which made the first sip all the more comforting as Benedikt wrapped his free hand around his mug and let the heat seep into his skin for a few seconds. He leaned back onto the plush hotel pillows, adjusted his headphones and let the opening credits to Roman Holiday fill his laptop screen.

Sunday 22nd October

All of the paddock journalists had said in the buildup to the race that they could feel something in the air, whether it was the history about to be made or the mere excitement of another race day (if Benedikt had somehow forgotten that he was on the verge of becoming the youngest quadruple world champion in F1 history, various people had done a wonderful job at reminding him).

Matt was as always by Benedikt’s side on the grid, holding a team umbrella over both of them as a shield from the warm sun. Perfect weather to win a world championship, one of the British pundits had said to him an hour ago.

Benedikt’s parents had flown out to Austin overnight, insistent that no matter what the race result would be in roughly an hour and forty minutes time that they would be there for their eldest son, no matter what. When he’d hugged them one final time before getting into the car to take his beloved Red Bull to the grid, Ben clung onto both of them the same way he had before his very first kart race.

“Remember, just enjoy it. And be safe.” His father’s words said with a warm and loving smile both then and now.

Benedikt was grateful for his dark sunglasses as he stood at the front of the gird for the national anthem trying his best to block out the melody and focus on his breathing. In and out in deep, steady breaths and with every exhale he pushed out everything he didn’t need to worry about. The world’s media ready and not really waiting to crown him as the next Sebastian Vettel, how Edward hadn’t let go of his expectations for Ben to seal his fourth world title with a race win, his departing teammate with a point to prove in his final year thanks to the small chip on his shoulder.

His feet carried him back to the car on autopilot, the bright sunshine reflecting off the metallic pigments in the dark blue paint. It was a work of art really, hopefully it was going to be a reliable one too.

If the glare from the sun off the bright red chrome of his helmet was too much, no one said anything as Benedikt hopped in the car and kept his eyes focused on the track ahead as his number 2 mechanic Malcolm strapped him in.

“Let’s bring it home, you’ve got this.” Harry said as he reached his hand into the cockpit one final time. Benedikt clasped his engineer’s hand tightly and let out a long slow exhale as those that no longer needed to be on the grid headed back to the garage.

He led the formation lap away at exactly 2pm. He did his clutch bite point check, made sure the brake bias was where it needed to be and gently weaved his car down the long back straight to get as much heat into his tyres as possible. He’d told Edward in the morning briefing not to radio in during the formation lap, pulling an excuse that he knew how much the team was behind him to win and that he just needed to concentrate, and thankfully he seemed to have respected his wishes as Ben lined his car back up on the grid.

As always on days like today it was like time stood painfully still at the worst possible moment. Ben didn’t think about history or how just once he wanted people to speak about his successes without comparing him to literally everyone else. Benedikt Schmitz from Zürich, the proud son of a physics teacher and botanist turned florist, just wanted to have a clean and uneventful race win.

The start lights finally came on, glowing the same shade of bright red just like any other race, and Ben finally felt at peace.

When the lights went out, Ben raced his car up the hill like Alistair wasn’t event there. He counted each apex through the lap, and didn’t look at the screen on his steering wheel until the start of lap 2 as he climbed the hill to turn 1 once more.

“Brilliant first lap Ben, 55 more to go. Keep it up.”

The job today was the same as before, control the pace, build a decent gap to the cars behind, and don’t do anything stupid.

“Car still feels really good.” Benedikt radioed in mid-way through lap 5.

“Copy.”

Even though the car was heavy with fuel it still felt beautiful to drive, and Ben felt completely calm as he entered the third sector, despite the screen on his dash showing that Alistair was just over two and a half seconds behind him.

Benedikt still thought nothing of it when he pitted at the start of lap 18 for a set of hard tyres. The stop felt fast enough and he came out in a small gap in front of one of the Alpha Tauri’s. Ben purposefully didn’t go completely hell for leather on his out lap because the last thing he wanted was a flat spot on a long stint, but he was still closing the gap to Pavard.

Then when he was halfway down the long back straight between turns 11 and 12, Benedikt saw a puff of white smoke ahead, and the nearest marshal post immediately stuck out two yellow flags.

“Pavard and Martinez have gone off, they’re just outside of the track limits so be careful.”

“Are they alright?”

“Yep, both drivers are okay.”

Right as Benedikt slowed for the corner, and saw the Ferrari with a gaping hole in its left sidepod and a limping Mercedes missing a front wing, the dash on his steering wheel immediately changed to show the safety car had been deployed.

If the cars yet to stop hadn’t been called in yet, they certainly would be now.

As Benedikt came down the main straight, weaving as he went to keep heat in his tyres, he saw the safety car waiting at the top of the hill, and watched it drive away when Alistair followed it out of the pit lane.

“Where’s Carotti?” Benedikt asked rapidly as he was forced to slot in behind Nathan, finding himself in third place.

“Carotti is P5, you’ve got Jakobsson between you.”

“Schisse.” Benedikt cursed inside his helmet, thankfully without his thumb pressed on the radio button, just to get any frustration out of his system so he could focus completely of the rear wing of the Mercedes in front of him.

“I want you to ignore where Carotti is and just focus on getting P2 at the restart. We need this for the constructors.”

Of course. Red Bull were in a position to win both championships if the results fell their way, and a 1-2 would definitely secure the constructors title too. The mere thought of it helped clear Benedikt’s head some more, and as he started the next lap he carried on with the usual safety car procedure. He gently weaved on the straights for tyre temps, checked the brake bias, made sure the engine was still in a low mix to save fuel, and didn’t look in the wingmirrors for any sign of Ferrari red.

The safety car was called in seven laps later on lap 26, and Benedikt let out a slow exhale as the flicked all the dials and switches on his steering wheel back to their optimal positions.

“You’ve been quicker than everyone else all race, you’ve got this mate.” Harry said over the radio as the lights of the safety car went out and Alistair slowed to control the pace.

Benedikt knew that Alistair would either make his restart from turn 16 or turn 19. And Ben could tell from his teammate’s line exiting turn 14 that it was going to be the former. So he weaved his car one more time and waited.

Sure enough, when Alistair accelerated out of turn 16 he bolted away catching Watkins napping, so much so that Benedikt was easily able to overtake him round the outside of turn 18, and he followed in his teammate’s wake to start lap 27.

They had just over half-race distance to go, if the track had been a bit cooler then Ben probably would have gotten away with a one stop, but after only five laps at full speed he knew he would have to come in again for fresh tyres. Because no matter what he did, Benedikt couldn’t catch up close enough to Alistair.

Even when Ben came in first for his second stop for a set of softs on lap 48, he couldn’t make the undercut work as Alistair came out of the pits just over two seconds ahead on the next lap.

He knew deep down that finishing in second would be enough for the title whatever Giovanni did. But Ben could still feel a knot of discomfort in his chest at the fact that he wasn’t leading the race. Sure Alistair wanted the race win too because he only had a handful of races left in his career, but Benedikt wasn’t just going to hand it to him on a silver platter. So he pushed the car a little bit more, and almost immediately Alistair responded.

It was another game of tug of war, only with it being over a race win the stakes felt so much higher. And yet as the laps went on, Benedikt found his discomfort slowly be replaced by the thrill of a chase. If today was one of the days that Alistair was just faster on merit, then Ben would just about be able to live with second place.

“Three laps left mate, just bring the car home and the title’s yours.”

In chasing Alistair down Benedikt had inadvertently set the fastest lap of the race. It gave him the extra buffer he needed as Giovanni was still down in 5th.

Ben made the choice to slow down by a hair, as much as he wanted to win the race he also knew he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he bottled it so close to the end. And when he started the final lap he briefly found himself overwhelmed at everything being just five and a half kilometres away.

Again, he just counted the apexes through the lap. As he opened up the steering through turns 17 and 18 Benedikt could just about make out everyone in the grandstand up on their feet cheering loudly, out of the corner of his eyes he saw a Swiss flag waving high in the warm Autumn air. To think that before him Clay Regazzoni had been the most successful Swiss F1 driver with his five race wins.

He Ben glided through turn 20 he could see all his and Alistair’s mechanics on the pit wall fence, waving their fists in the air. Fireworks went off as Alistair crossed the line, and Benedikt followed 2.1 seconds behind.

First he felt relief, then it as almost like he was floating as he slowed the car down for turn 1.

“Benedikt Schmitz, you are a quadruple world champion!” Harry yelled down the radio so loudly it was almost as if he didn’t need the radio to be heard. “You have matched Prost and Vettel, and you’re the youngest driver ever to do it. I couldn’t be more proud of you matey.”

Some wild part of Benedikt’s brain took over as he screamed almost every atom of air out of his lungs, when he finished he felt completely and utterly content as he raised his fist in the air.

“I don’t know what to say…” He brought his free hand down and pressed his palm into his helmet and shook his head. “I can’t… I don’t have the words to say how much I love you all. Thank you for today and every day that we get to do this. You really are the best team in the world.”

Ben heard but didn’t quite register Edward’s message, something about making history and the constructors title and pride. It was like winning in Germany ten times over, but at least this time it was under a bright blue sky.

“Remember to pick up rubber, and engine mode six please.” Harry said quickly.

“Oh shit.” Ben said quietly, thankfully muscle memory managed to put the switches on his steering wheel in the right place. Before he knew it he was in the final sector of the in lap, and Benedikt made sure to wave in the direction of where he’d seen the Swiss flag. He hoped the person who had brought it knew how grateful Ben was to see it.

When he’d parked the car behind the number 2 sign in parc fermé Ben switched off the engine and he could feel his face start to split into a wide grin. He quickly undid his seatbelt and managed to stand up without undoing the headrest, and he jumped out of the car while gripping his hands on the edge of the halo for support, and he ran towards his parents.

Roger and Anna had tears streaming down their faces as they pulled Benedikt in for a crushing hug while his mechanics cheered and sang around them. They kissed either side of their son’s helmet, and held onto him tightly as Ben could just make out them saying I love you over the noise.

“Du bist Weltmeister!!!” His father yelled with a fist bump to the air as Benedikt spotted Carly in the crowd and he hugged his beloved number one mechanic round the shoulders. She jumped up and down, yelling at the top of her lungs while everyone reached round to pat Benedikt’s helmet and shoulders.

Even though the padding in his helmet Ben could hear the cheers of adoration and noise all around him, but all he wanted to do was make sure he squeezed everyone’s hand, in the hope it would tell them all just how grateful he was that he got to call them teammates – even Alistair.

When Benedikt reluctantly pulled himself away from the barriers to head for the weigh scales, he made sure to clap his teammate on the shoulder and tell him congratulations. Alistair gave a small nod, having already taken off his helmet, and said thank you with a small smile.

“Don’t get too drunk tonight, well done on the title.” He added, clapping Benedikt on the shoulder.

Ben slowly took off his gloves before undoing the chin strap on his helmet and gently pulled it off his head, tucking his gloves, balaclava and in-ears inside before stepping onto the weigh scales. He pinched the bridge of his nose as the adrenaline in his system was quickly replaced with almost every emotion under the sun. Joy, relief, bewilderment, and a very faint sense of calm that he didn’t have to prove anything to anyone any more.

As he stepped off the scales Benedikt felt so full of endorphins that he might float away into the stratosphere, and he took extra firm steps across the floor of the FIA garage and back out into parc fermé. He raised a fist into the air before kissing the tips of his fingers on his free hand and resting them against the engine cover of his car.

He hadn’t stop grinning since he’d taken off his helmet.

With his hand over his heart he gave a small bow to his mechanics and engineers before turning round to make his way to the stairs before someone from the FIA thought about dragging him there. As expected there was a second TV camera waiting in the cool down room, where Alistair, Daniel and Edward were quietly chatting amongst themselves.

“Well done Benedikt,” Edward said with a beaming grin as he reached out to hug his driver round the shoulders.

“Did we get the constructors title?” Ben didn’t want to assume that Edward being the constructors representative meant they’d won both titles in one day. But Edward nodded with a bright smile, and said that with the team scoring maximum points they had won their fourth consecutive constructors title with three races to spare.

Ben wasn’t sure why the news seemed to overwhelm him, as he felt his knees buckle to the point where he was crouching on the ground running his hands down his face.

“Well done Ben.” Daniel said with a warm smile as the Alpine driver clapped him on the shoulder. Ben said a teary eyed thank you as he stood up and slowly sipped at the last remaining water bottle on the table.

It was muscle memory that put the second place cap on Benedikt’s head as he walked out onto the podium, waving to the crowd as he stepped into the still bright sunshine. The British and Austrian anthems blurred together in an almost dreamlike orchestra as Benedikt tried to drink everything in, hoping that he would remember this day for the rest of his life.

The second place trophy was identical to the rest, a black star shaped cylinder painted with red, chrome silver and blue brushstrokes. Ben lofted it into the air to the cheers of his mechanics and family below. And when the dignitaries were escorted off the podium, Alistair was determined to spray everyone within reach, so much so that what felt like a glassful of champagne went into Benedikt’s ear.

He'd just about managed to clear it out by the time Lise walked out to conduct the podium interviews. She spoke about how all the drivers had given the crowd a brilliant race before congratulating Alistair on his first race win of the season.

“Aye, well…” Alistair quickly coughed away a lump in his throat, his Edinburgh accent was always more pronounced whenever he won a race. “We got lucky with the safety car, but if this is my last race win in F1 then I feel really happy with it.” It was only then that Benedikt noticed the tears in his teammates eyes that he was clearly making an effort to hide. “It’s been… such a privilege to be a Red Bull driver since I first started at Alpha Tauri, and I’m really proud that with the win today we were able to bring home another constructors title for everyone here and back at Milton Keynes.”

A very loud cheer came from both Alistair and Benedikt’s mechanics, someone even belted out a couple of lines from We Are The Champions.

“Now Benedikt,” Lise turned to him with a bright smile. “You didn’t win the race but, you still scored enough points today to win your fourth world championship. Now not only have you matched Alain Prost and Sebastian Vettel, but you are only the fourth driver to win four world championships in a row. More people have gone to the moon than done what you’ve achieved today. How does it feel?”

Benedikt took in a shaky breath and puffed out his cheeks. It was probably going to be like this for the rest of the day, him feelings completely bowled over by every single statistic all the paddock journalists were bursting at the seams to mention.

“I mean… when you put it like that it’s very…” Ben sighed as he shook his head, and briefly looked down at the drops of champagne on his shoes. “I think, to kind of repeat what I said on the radio, I feel so, so lucky to… not just do what I do but work with the whole team. It maybe looks easy from the outside but all the hours everyone puts in is why we’ve been so successful this year. I don’t know how long we’re going to stay winning, but like I said I’m grateful for every single race that we get to do what we do, and I wouldn’t have any of this if it wasn’t for everyone here and back at the factory.” Benedikt coughed away a lump in his throat and found tears pooling in his eyes again, and he didn’t care about them slowly spilling out.

By the time he’d sat down in the press conference, and Lee had given the floor to the drivers for the procedural quote in their own language for the press back in their home county, all of Benedikt’s emotions came flooding out as he proceeded to thank as many people as he could remember from his entire career thus far. From Michael Müller, who owned the karting team Ben first drove for who was now CEO of the Audi team, to Max who had painted all of Benedikt’s helmets since he moved to single seaters, to Allison Hawthorn who while not part of Red Bull any more had still designed what was possibly the best F1 car Ben would ever have the privilege to drive. And of course, his beloved mechanics, engineers, family, friends, and Matt and Annika who Benedikt knew he would not have made it through the season without.

He had to bite down on his tongue to avoid himself from making any mention to the fact he had a girlfriend, and that he was grateful for her too. As he shook his head Benedikt hoped that everyone would just assume that he was too overwhelmed to say anything else other than a teary eyed danke shön.

Benedikt briefly saw Sophie walking out of the press pen as he arrived, looking reasonably happy as she said something to Richard. They both caught Ben’s eye, with Richard saying a warm congratulations and Sophie reaching out to clasp Benedikt’s free hand. They pulled each other in close and briefly rested their chins on the other person’s shoulder.

“Congratulations.” She smiled at him brightly, with a small hint of pride.

“Where did you finish?” In all the emotions of the past half hour, Benedikt hadn’t remembered to check the full race results.

“Seventh, started were I finished so…” She trailed off with a small shrug and dropped Benedikt’s hand, likely because she was the one more aware of the mass of journalists being mere metres away. “See you later, I need to speak to Italian TV.” Sophie disappeared with a flash of a bright smile and a gentle squeeze of Ben’s shoulder.

Benedikt adjusted his cap as he followed Annika into the press pen, and stopped in front of Holly Stortford from Channel 4. He probably didn’t sound that interesting by pretty much repeating what he said on the podium and in the press conference but Holly, and every single journalist in the press pen, all seemed quite happy when they thanked Benedikt for his time.

He gave as much time to speak to the Swiss TV team in the paddock as he could, and it was only then at his last interview of the day that he felt like everything was finally starting to sink in. A few stragglers sought out Benedikt on their way back to the various team buildings, and he was allowed a few precious minutes of quiet in his driver room to get changed out of his sodden overalls and into jeans and a championship t-shirt fresh out of the packet. Matt had already been proudly wearing his when Benedikt had walked in to a roar of applause.

As the team piled out of hospitality headed for the garage for the post-race team picture, Benedikt walked sandwiched between his parents, his arms locked round both of their shoulders. Alistair also had family in attendance as he and his wife Caroline sat down in front of one of the two pit boards the mechanics had made up – one for Alistair’s 13th race win, the other for Ben and the team’s fourth consecutive titles.

Everyone cheered at the top of their lungs for the photographs, and either sprinted away or revelled in the team’s tradition of spraying each other with cans of Red Bull instead of champagne. Benedikt winced as Matt and Carly both poured a can each over Benedikt’s head before almost suffocating him an in iron clad hug.

Soon the pack down would begin to get everything over to Mexico City as soon as possible as they were in the middle of yet another double header, and the post-race debrief would hopefully be conducted with calm, methodical heads. But just like in Germany, all Benedikt wanted was to bottle up everything going on around him. He had no idea how long this would last. If Edward had his way they were going to keep winning forever but deep down Benedikt knew that wasn’t going to be the case. So as his mechanics hoisted him up on their shoulders while once again singing We Are The Champions, Ben threw his head back to feel the sun on his face, and hoped he would never stop grinning.

* * *

2023 United States Grand Prix Classification

1st - Alistair Mitchell (GBR, Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Benedikt Schmitz (SUI, Red Bull) - 18pts 3rd - Daniel Jakobsson (SWE, Alpine) - 15pts 4th - Nathan Watkins (CAN, Mercedes) - 12pts 5th - Giovanni Carotti (ITA, Ferrari) - 10pts 6th - Cristóbal Vasquez (ESP, Alpine) - 8pts 7th - Sophie Knightsbridge (GBR, McLaren) - 6pts 8th - Antonio Lima (BRA, Alpha Tauri) - 4pts 9th - Marc Pavard (MON, Mercedes) - 2pts 10th - James Hewitt (GBR, McLaren) - 1pt 11th - Nico Dumont (FRA, Alpha Tauri) 12th - Owen Nichols (NZL, Aston Martin) 13th - Tadashi Sato (JPN, Haas) 14th - Leon Bauer (AUT, Haas) 15th - Erik Braun (GER, Audi) 16th - Aaron Jones (GBR, Aston Martin) 17th - Jan Martens (NED, Audi) 18th - Evan McKinley (AUS, Williams) 19th - Aidan Glover (GBR, Williams) DNF - Teo Martinez (ARG, Ferrari) Fastest Lap - Benedikt Schmitz (SUI, Red Bull) - 1pt

2023 World Championship Standings after Round 17 Drivers Standings 1st - Benedikt Schmitz* - 322pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 237pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins - 198pts 4th - Alistair Mitchell - 188pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 179pts (9th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 72pts 10th - James Hewitt - 58pts)

Constructors Standings 1st - Red Bull Racing-Honda* (AUT) - 510pts 2nd - Ferrari (ITA) - 368pts 3rd - Mercedes AMG (GER) - 332pts 4th - Alpine-Renault (FRA) - 276pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes (GBR) - 130pts

(an asterisk indicates the 2023 Drivers and Constructors World Champions)

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 3 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 21 - 2023 Race 16: Japan

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 21/57 Word count: 4.3k Summary: Feelings come to the surface in Suzuka

Thursday 5th October – Suzuka Circuit

The previous night’s rain had finally cleared around mid-morning, leaving an overcast sky and cool air over the circuit. But none of that had done anything to dampen the spirits of the thousands of fands that had descended on the track – by far making it one of the best attended media days of the season. As well as having a reputation for being one of the best circuits on the calendar, Suzuka was also known for having the most enthusiastic spectators. Sophie had already lost count of the amount of hand painted flags and replica race suits helmets she’d seen people wear between the entrance gates and the fan zones.

“You know,” Richard stuffed his hands in his coat pockets as they left the press pen, the first part of Sophie’s packed schedule ticked off the list. “I had a really nice time showing you and Vanessa round Singapore.”

“So did we.” Sophie replied with a bright smile.

“Well, now that your contract’s signed, I wondered if you wanted to make it a regular thing? Sightseeing, food at the hawker centre afterwards…” Richard trailed off, scratching behind his ear and looking down at the drying ground. Sophie linked her right arm through Richard’s left which immediately caught his attention.

“I absolutely would. Vanessa too.” She said with a definitive nod. A wide, relieved smile made its way across Richard’s face.

“Does this mean we’re like a packaged set now, the three of us?”

Sophie had to admit that the more the season went on the less Richard felt like her press officer, and more like an older brother. At the very least, she thought of him as an incredibly dear friend.

“I’m afraid so, yes.”

Richard threw his head back and grinned before patting Sophie’s hand as they approached McLaren’s assigned hospitality unit that stood directly opposite the entrance to the garage.

“This is the part where you’re supposed to say that you’ve always wanted sisters.” Sophie half-joked.

Richard instead chose to pull a mock grimace before saying that he was just messing with her with a small laugh. Sophie just screwed her face up at her press officer and lightly hit him on the arm before going to check her watch. She stopped walking so abruptly that Richard stumbled over his feet.

“How long do I have before the engineers meeting?” She quickly glanced up from her watch.

“Ten minutes,” Richard said cautiously, and he realised what Sophie was up to right as she went to speak.

“Can I go through and see if the pitlane walk is still going on? Just to say hello to people since they’ve had to spend all morning in the rain.” Because of the earlier bad weather the pitlane walk, which people paid an arm and a leg to get tickets for, had been delayed by a couple of hours. Sophie just wanted to do what she could to make it up to people.

Richard fixed Sophie with a firm stare, and let out a long sigh.

“I will absolutely pull my weight around if it looks like you’re going to be late.”

“Well I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Sophie playfully elbowed him in the side as they walked into the garage, and could just about make out the slow-moving crowd of people looking around and taking pictures as they reached the end of the passageway.

As Sophie greeted her mechanics a few excited murmurs started to bubble from the spectators, who were kept on the other side of the pit boxes by temporary barriers and a scattering of security guards. “Oh no I don’t have a-” Sophie was cut off by Richard silently pulling a sharpie out of his coat pocket. “Pen.”

“I know, I’m good at my job.” Richard smirked and followed Sophie out into the pitlane.

The excited murmurs had turned into moderate cheers and some people even calling out Sophie’s name. She looked into as many faces as she could, thanking them all for coming down, apologising for the weather, and saying that she hoped they would all still have a great weekend. As Sophie moved along the barrier she signed caps and flags, smiled for selfies and was given an armful of small gifts.

“Did you make these? They’re beautiful.” Sophie remarked at a set of three beaded bracelets she’d been given, one each for herself, Richard and Vanessa. The beads on Sophie’s bracelet were in her helmet colours while Richard and Vanessa’s were in McLaren orange and blue, all of them featuring their initials and on Sophie’s bracelet the number 16. She slipped the bracelet on above her watch and the macrame bracelet Luke’s daughter had made. Richard, who looked quite stunned by the gesture, put his bracelet on quite gently. “We’ll make sure Vanessa gets her one, I promise.”

With her arms full of gifts, Sophie dutifully followed Richard out of the pitlane and back towards the team hospitality unit after five minutes. So long as she went straight from her driver room to the engineer’s office – she would be on time for the engineers briefing.

“Sophie!” Both her and Richard whipped their heads round in the direction of a friendly voice, and they both sighed in relief when they saw Benedikt instead of a journalist walk towards them.

“Hey Ben.” Sophie couldn’t help it when she greeted him with a bright smile that was instantly returned.

“You’re popular.” He gestured to the bundle of small plush toys, parcels and envelopes in her arms.

“A chunk of them are for James actually. But I need to go, I have a meeting.”

“Ah sure, I’ll see you later?” He asked it as a question, as opposed to a general statement. Sophie nodded in reply and walked with Richard into the large marquee that McLaren were calling home for the week.

Friday 6th October

“I know I shouldn’t say it but I’m really starting to hate that bloody car.” Chris pinched the bridge of his nose with a small groan as the hotel lift ascended to the eighth floor. Free practice had been a mixed bag for McLaren, the MCL23 was being its usual temperamental self and not doing what the drivers or engineers wanted. Sophie was starting to wonder how on Earth she’d managed to do so well in China and Hungary.

“As they say, tomorrow’s another day,” Leena huffed from the corner with her arms folded across her chest. “And it could still somehow be worse.” No one was really sure how, but Sophie, Chris and Vanessa all nodded in agreement anyway.

Chris and Leena said goodnight when they got off on the eighth floor with weak smiles and bleary eyes. Almost everyone that needed to had stayed late at the track to look over the data from practice so they could tackle things head on tomorrow. Even though everyone knew deep down that there was only so much time they could find.

“Get some rest, I’ll come get you for breakfast in the morning.” Vanessa patted Sophie’s shoulder as she said goodnight before going into her room. Sophie’s room was a long walk down the hallway and she let out a small yawn on the way, suddenly feeling just how heavy her backpack was on her shoulders. She barely noticed Benedikt almost walking into her as he came out a stairwell. Red Bull clearly hadn’t felt the need to put in as late a shift at the track, given how Ben was dressed in a casual t-shirt and jeans.

“Sophie, hi.” He looked Sophie up and down and put two and two together. “You just got back?”

Sophie hummed in reply. “My room’s this way so…” She pointed down the hallway and took half a step in that direction. “Unless there was something else?”

Ben bounced up and down on his toes and stuffed his hands in his pockets as his cheeks flushed a soft shade of pink.

“I was just wondering if we could have that talk, about how I owe you dinner.”

“Oh,” Sophie’s look of surprise quickly turned into a lazy smile. “Alright then.”

They walked side by side down the hallway and didn’t say much past asking how the other person was. When they reached Sophie’s room she hovered her hand over the door handle.

“I can’t do dinner tonight though, I ate at the track before I left.”

“That’s alright.” Ben’s hands were still stuffed in his pockets. “I’d just came from the dining room, I pressed the wrong button on the lift and just decided to take the stairs.”

Sophie half-snorted as he pulled her keycard out of her pocket and opened the door to her room, quickly stepping inside to allow Ben to follow. She flicked on the light switch and hung the do not disturb sign outside before quietly shutting the door behind her.

“Although, I probably owe you a coffee.” Sophie said tentatively as she took off her backpack and set it down by her feet. Benedikt let out an amused hum, having not forgotten the real reason why Sophie had invited him to her room back in Yeongam.

“Will I get to drink it this time?” He asked with a cheeky grin.

Sophie’s cheeks flushed a bright red as she glanced down at the floor.

“Help yourself I need to get changed.”

Sophie’s hotel room for the week was much smaller compared to the suites of various sizes she’d found herself in so far during the year. As such the only private place to get changed in was the bathroom, where she shed her team gear and pulled on an old Northampton Saints rugby shirt before stepping back out.

“You still take one sugar right?” Benedikt asked, his back to the bathroom door.

“Yeah, thanks.” Sophie hung her team jacket up in the small wardrobe and folded up her t-shirt to deal with later.

As Sophie looked around the room she quickly realised there wasn’t anywhere to sit and still have a comfortable gap between someone. The end of the double bed was just too far away from the small two-seater sofa that while was very comfortable could only fit two people if they were joined at the hip. Maybe that was why it was called a love seat.

Sophie sat down on the left side of the sofa, and a steaming cup of tea was placed in front of her seconds later.

A sudden but surprisingly comfortable silence fell between them as Benedikt contemplated where to sit. Eventually he came to the same conclusion as Sophie and took the remaining spot on the sofa. If Sophie had to guess she would say there was a maximum of five centimetres between them. She got another whiff of his cologne again as he sat down.

Eventually Benedikt took a long sip of what looked like coffee, and gently set his cup down on the tiny coffee table so he could properly turn to look at Sophie. One hand rested on his crossed over shin while his other elbow was propped on the back of the sofa.

“You’re still wearing your bracelets.” He said with a small smile, gesturing to Sophie’s right wrist.

As she had promised to Luke’s daughter at Silverstone, Sophie had worn her orange and blue knotted bracelet at every single race weekend since then. And she had no idea how much time had gone into the beaded bracelet she’d been given yesterday, but she appreciated it all the same. Even Richard was still wearing his. Truthfully Sophie counted herself lucky to have as many fans as she did, and she didn’t want to disappoint them.

“That’s why I like you. You care so much about everything.” His voice was soft but almost dripping with sincerity. “I never wanted you to be just a one night stand-”

“Part of that’s my fault.” Sophie cut him off and nervously tugged at her ear as she glanced down at the ground. Benedikt let out a small sigh.

“What’s the saying… it takes two to tango?”

Sophie half snorted another laugh and chewed on her bottom lip.

“Well,” Benedikt drew in a long breath, and for a brief moment it felt like everything slowed down to a near stop as for better or worse Sophie found herself glued to Ben’s eyes. “If we just have one dinner, at your place maybe, and you want to stay friends after then that’s fine.” He paused to gulp, said the word but, and the rest of the sentence remained unspoken but lingered in the air all around them.

Sophie had just assumed that the way Ben felt about her was surface level, she’d ever considered the possibility of it being any deeper than that. And it being mutual.

In an ideal word she wouldn’t have been dealing with this the night before qualifying, but she had to glance down at her hands as Benedikt didn’t look like he was taking everything in his stride either.

Sophie always wondered if it would she would ever be so lucky as to find the kind of love her parents had. Mark and Mary were devoted to each other in every sense of the word, and utterly steadfast in dealing with whatever challenges they or the family faced together. They had their disagreements and the occasional argument like most couples, but every time they chose to work through it and come out the other side that little bit stronger. And they would always be there to make the other person a strong cup of tea after a rough day. Sophie thought she had that with Tom, but the fact she ran away suggested otherwise.

No, it wasn’t running away, she told herself. Sophie hadn’t been the one to turn down the proposal.

“My last-” Sophie cut herself off as her voice cracked ever so slightly. Factually, Tom had been her only proper relationship, as well as her most recent one. “Things didn’t end very well with my ex and-”

“If this is too much… if you want me to go, then I’ll leave.” Ben said quickly, looking Sophie up and down with a worried look on his face.

“That’s just it,” Sophie sighed, and some part of her brain shot out her free hand and rested it on Benedikt’s knee. “I don’t. I’d really like it if you stayed.”

A small, soft smile made its way onto Benedikt’s face as he rested a hand on top of Sophie’s and gave it a gentle squeeze. And another surprisingly comfortable silence fell over the small room again.

“Why don’t we do things properly and watch a movie or something?” Benedikt said eventually, lazily knotting their fingers together as he spoke. Sophie set her undrunk tea down on the coffee table and squeezed Ben’s hand back, briefly wondering how they had jumped from friends to this so quickly. Even though she wanted to have nights like in Yeongam, but also days like Silverstone too.

She let out a small, wistful sigh. “I’d like to do things properly.”

Despite choosing the film Sophie almost fell asleep in the latter minutes of GoldenEye, to the point where she almost didn’t catch Benedikt saying he was going to quickly grab some things from his room and come back. He returned about ten minutes later with a full rucksack containing pyjamas, a fresh change of clothes plus a Red Bull team shirt and toiletries. She pondered, as she climbed into bed after brushing her teeth, if this was his way of continuing to make things up to her.

As they kissed each other goodnight, Sophie also started to think about what on Earth she was getting herself into. But those thoughts were quickly dismayed when Ben gently brushed a thumb across her cheek and wrapped his arms around her as they drifted off to sleep.

Because maybe, things between them would end up turning out alright.

Sunday 8th October

Through all his years in F1 James could still count on one hand the number of times he’d physically felt nervous before a race. For some reason, as he let out a long exhale and still felt some mild tension in his shoulders, he reluctantly added Japan 2023 to the list.

Maybe it was because he and Sophie had barely scraped into the top 10 in qualifying yesterday, maybe it was because there was always a risk of cars coming together at turn 1 and the middle of the pack was the worst place to be, maybe it was because he could already hear the questions he was going to be asked after the race about how shit his car supposedly was.

“You okay?” Mike opened his umbrella to act as a parasol, as forecast the weather was bright sunny skies with temperatures in the high 20s. The race was probably going at least be a two stop as a result.

James closed his eyes and allowed himself two slow, deep breaths.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He fixed his sunglasses over his eyes, accepted the cool vest from Mike when it was offered, and strode up the grid to take his place for the pre-race anthem. “Hey.” Either by fate or pure coincidence, his place card was next to Sophie’s

“Hey James.” They’d both done Richard and Katie proud and were stood in place about half a minute early.

“Go well today.” He spoke with his hands clasped behind his back, looking straight down the track towards the first corner.

“Thanks, same to you.” Her puzzled tone was likely because they’d already said that to each other after the strategy briefing. “I promise to take it easy round the last corner this time.”

Sophie had unintentionally put it in the wall right at the start of third practice yesterday thanks to a nasty kick of oversteer. And while she had been fine and the car was not as damaged as it could have been, it had put everyone a little bit on edge regardless.

Their conversation was cut off when the rest of the drivers came in to take their places, and when the anthem ended they barely had time to clap each other on the shoulder before making the mad dash back down to their grid slots. Barely ten minutes later James found himself at the end of the formation lap, waiting for the start lights to go out.

He, and Sophie, crucially made it through the first few corners cleanly – unlike Watkins who had his right rear tyre punctured by one of the Alpines coming out of turn 7. But James wasn’t sure if he would of preferred that or the huge amount of understeer he had going through Degners 1 and 2.

The car wasn’t completely undriveable, but it wasn’t that far off it.

James pitted early for his first stop on lap twelve thank to some hideous graining on his front tyres, and he had to jam on the breaks coming down the pitlane to avoid driving into the back of one of the Mercs when they exited their pitbox.

“Who was that?!” James grumbled down the radio as he rejoined the track in P13.

“That was Pavard, we’re speaking to the FIA about it.” Paul quickly added that James’ outlap was critical to end discussion on the matter and get his driver to focus.

James did as he was told and got his head down, and had moved up to P8 once the first round of stops were done with. While it was a grand total of one place up on his qualifying result, it was still better than dropping to outside the points. Though his fresh hard tires were only marginally better in terms of grip.

“This is going to be a long race.” James couldn’t help it as he allowed himself one small vent on the radio.

“We know James,” Paul quickly replied. “You’re doing a good job so far let’s keep up this pace.”

Normally Suzuka was a beautiful circuit to drive round, one of James’ favourites even, but it was hard to enjoy each passing lap when the car’s handling was so all over the place. Dropping down to P9 after his second stop added a small insult to injury, as was the radio from Paul about ten laps later telling him Sophie had to make a third stop for a slow puncture, and that he needed to avoid driving on the kerbs wherever possible. James knew then and there he would be kissing 8th place goodbye.

He was almost relieved to cross the finish line, a full three seconds behind Pavard despite the fact he’d served a drive through penalty earlier for the pitlane incident.

As James shifted the car into fuel saving mode and went off line to pick up as many tyre marbles as possible he could already picture the scene in the garage. The dejected looks and hands being ran down faces to the fact that all of everyone’s hard work had only amounted to two meagre points.

(Sophie had finished in 11th, having lost a drag race to the line against Sato).

James just couldn’t understand how things had gone so wrong from last year to now.

“I know that this weekend had been incredibly difficult for everyone,” Martin said, kicking off the debrief to a deafening silence. “But I’m not going to stand here and yell at everyone to do better because we all know that we’re better than this. We’re going to get our heads down, and learn exactly where we failed this weekend, and put it towards next year’s car.”

If the MCL24 car wasn’t at least capable of doing what it was told, James wasn’t sure what he was going to do with himself.

On the flight home James was already planning the bike ride he was going to make as soon as he was able. Normally he went for a run round the Monaco harbour to work off the jetlag, but after today he knew he needed something stronger to shake off his frustrations. He hadn’t ridden through the mountains near the French border for a while, and Mike agreed that it would be a good idea.

Out of the small windows in the private jet James got a look at the gorgeous bright orange sunset over the clouds, and he took a picture for memory sake before slowly pulling down the blind.

He deliberately pushed all thoughts of whether or not it was a good idea to see through his McLaren contract out of his mind. James knew he wasn’t in the right frame of mind, and the best thing for him would be to copy Mike and pass out snuggled into one of the plush seats instead. The blanket loosely lying on his knees being optional.

James smiled at the text message from Chloe saying how much she loved the cherry blossom detailing he had on his helmet for the weekend, when he messaged back that he was thinking of running something cowboy inspired for the next race in Austin she replied with a frantic set of messages saying she’d disown him instantly.

Tell Sophie sorry about her puncture, Mum and El said have a safe trip back to Monte Carlo. Love you xxx

Right after James had boarded the jet, Paul had texted to say that the team’s flight out of Tokyo was delayed, and almost an hour into his flight James still hadn’t heard anything from his engineer. He closed the conversation with Chloe since the Hewitts were probably about to tuck into their Sunday lunch, and he tapped his index finger against the side of his phone before going into WhatsApp and scrolled to find Sophie in his chat history.

He typed out and backspaced three different messages before eventually hitting send.

Hope you’re all on the plane by now, Chloe and Elouise wanted to say sorry about your race. Safe travels.

James set his phone down on the small table in front of him and busied himself with getting his phone charger out of his backpack while he waited for a reply. By the time he’d sat back down again, Sophie had sent back a picture of some half-drank teas and coffees from some corner of the airport terminal and what looked like Steve fast asleep on Tommy’s shoulder a couple of chairs down.

Sadly not.

Was the accompanying reply.

But at least Ben bought us all drinks.

Appeared on the screen a second later. James huffed and shook his head, that really was Benedikt Schmitz all over. Apparently, after he’d won his first title in 2020, he’d given out handwritten thank you cards and small boxes of Swiss chocolates for everyone at the factory. It was borderline annoying how he was in the form of his life and not being a total arsehole about it.

James messaged back encouraging Sophie should milk Ben’s generosity as much as possible, and hoped that everyone would be on their way home sooner rather than later. He slid his phone into aeroplane mode and plugged it in to charge before he got himself comfortable in his seat, and tried to put the past three days behind him, counting the hours until he was back home.

* * *

2023 Japanese Grand Prix Classification

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (SUI, Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Alistair Mitchell (GBR, Red Bull) - 18pts 3rd - Teo Martinez (ARG, Ferrari) - 15pts 4th - Giovanni Carotti (ITA, Ferrari) - 12pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez (ESP, Alpine) - 10pts 6th - Daniel Jakobsson (SWE, Alpine) - 8pts 7th - Nico Dumont (FRA, Alpha Tauri) - 6pts 8th - Marc Pavard (MON, Mercedes) - 4pts 9th - James Hewitt (GBR, McLaren) - 2pts 10th - Tadashi Sato (JPN, Haas) - 1pt 11th - Sophie Knightsbridge (GBR, McLaren) 12th - Antonio Lima (BRA, Alpha Tauri) 13th - Owen Nichols (NZL, Aston Martin) 14th - Evan McKinley (AUS, Williams) 15th - Aaron Jones (GBR, Aston Martin) 16th - Aidan Glover (GBR, Williams) 17th - Erik Braun (GER, Audi) RET - Leon Bauer (AUT, Haas) RET - Jan Martens (NED, Audi) RET - Nathan Watkins (CAN, Mercedes) Fastest Lap - Alistair Mitchell - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings after Round 16

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz - 303pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 227pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins - 186pts 4th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 171pts 5th - Alistair Mitchell - 163pts (9th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 66pts 10th - James Hewitt - 57pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull - 466pts 2nd - Ferrari - 358pts 3rd - Mercedes - 318pts 4th - Alpine-Renault - 253pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes - 123pts

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 4 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 20 - First Nights

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter: 20/57 Word count: 4.8k Kiss me once, kiss you twice

I got hit with the cold in the latter stages of editing this chapter so I apologise in advance if there's any glaring spelling or grammar errors, I'll hopefully get back to them when I'm feeling better.

Wednesday 27th September – Yeongam, South Korea

Martin had apologised for not doing the contract signing somewhere more grand the second Sophie and Becks walked into the hotel conference room minutes before 2pm. Becks said that since Sophie’s initial contract had been signed in a hotel, it was somewhat fitting that her extension be signed in one too.

Becks had flown out with Sophie on Monday to make sure that every single T and I in the contract was crossed and dotted before everyone could finally put pen to paper. The deal was for three years, keeping Sophie at McLaren until 2026. She would have a yearly increase in her salary, performance bonuses, and would in theory be teammates with James until his contract ran out at the end of 2025.

Muscle memory swirled Sophie’s signature across the crisp paper in pitch black ink. Once all the dotted lines were signed, she lifted her pen with a small sigh and finally allowed the beaming grin she’d been resisting to spread across her face. Sophie looked at Becks out of the corner of her eye, and got a small smile and nod of approval in return.

“It was never in doubt.” Martin grinned as he and Sophie posed for pictures that would be attached to the press release and social media posts. Now the team’s biggest challenge was to keep things under wraps until everything was set to go out at 8.30 sharp tomorrow morning.

Sophie and Becks parted ways with Martin and Richard in the conference room to try and remain inconspicuous. They had a quick lunch in the hotel dining room before Sophie made her way back to her suite, her phone pressed against her ear.

“Hi Mum,” Sophie spoke in a hushed tone even though no one else was in the lift.

“Oh never mind hellos, is it done?” Mary asked quickly, her voice an equal mix of excitement and apprehension. “Is the contract signed?”

“It’s done.” Sophie hadn’t really stopped smiling despite continuing to speak quietly as she walked out the lift, even though she desperately wanted to shout from the rooftops that she was still an F1 driver.

“Oh… congratulations darling! We’ll celebrate properly once you’re back home.” The paddock found themselves at their fifth set of back-to-back races, with Japan immediately following South Korea to close out the Asian leg of the season. “I’m so sorry we couldn’t be there with you.” Mary said heavily. If Sophie closed her eyes and thought hard enough she could see the crease in her mother’s eyebrows and probably feel the gentle hand on her shoulder if they weren’t separated by five and a half thousand miles.

“I know.” Sophie said quietly. She leaned against the door to her room instead of unlocking it. Her heart briefly hurting too much to move any further. “Should I text Dad and Will the good news or did you want to leave them a note?”

“You text everyone, I need to get to work.” It was a little after 6am in the UK, if Sophie’s maths was right, and the traffic in Edinburgh never came with a guarantee that it would be quiet so early in the day.

“I love you Mum.”

“You too sweetheart, enjoy the drivers dinner tonight.”

They exchanged goodbyes that were far too short, and Sophie distracted herself by sending emoji and exclamation mark filled text messages saying that she’d signed her contract extension. Julian, who was staying in nearby Mokpo as F2 was racing in South Korea for the first time this week, texted back immediately saying how happy he was for her.

Sophie hoped it would be his turn soon as she put her phone back in her pocket and went to pull out her keycard. She was stopped by a loud and indistinguishable yell in French coming from the other end of the hallway. Jen trailed behind Nico shaking her head as his still-wet hair scattered small water droplets along the carpet as he jogged over towards his friend.

“Please tell me you’ve signed the contract?” He asked in a poor attempt at a whisper. When Sophie nodded, Nico grinned and hugged Sophie round the middle before spinning her round in a small circle in the air.

“Will you put me down?! I’m supposed to be being discreet about this.” Sophie hissed, and wasn’t put back onto the ground until she started to wriggle. Nico just rolled his eyes and tutted, but he gently put Sophie back on the ground.

“Cherie, half the paddock journalists already knew the deal was done!” He was right of course. Some people did have wonderfully good sources for just about anything.

“Yeah well… you know what McLaren are like.” Sophie shrugged and folded her arms across her chest. Nico just smiled down at his friend, placed a hand on each of her shoulders and leaned down to kiss to top of her head.

“I love you, I’m delighted for you, and I look forward to racing against you next year.”

“May the best driver win.” Sophie said with a wide grin, and agreed to meet Nico at his room instead of the hotel lobby so they could go to the GPDA dinner together.

Some journalists would joke between themselves that every time the driver’s union had scheduled a group dinner, the higher ups at FOM and the FIA got a bit twitchy at the thought of a joint statement on something being the potential outcome. When in reality, Benedikt had very graciously organised a farewell dinner for his teammate at what was apparently Alistair’s favourite restaurant on the season calendar.

The dress code was smart casual – Sophie had opted for a dark red camisole top and jeans with her grandmother’s earrings. Nathan complimented them the second her and Nico had sat down at the table, very quickly adding that his twin sister ran her own jewellery business back in Vancouver. The necklace he was wearing had actually been made by her – a small bird in flight attached to the chain by the tip of its left wing, made out of silver.

“It’s beautiful.” Sophie remarked as James entered the room.

“You left without me teammate!” He sat down in the seat opposite to her, wearing a navy blue shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows. Sophie couldn’t tell if he was joking or not.

“I wasn’t aware you wanted to share a lift.” She said with a small shrug, and the conversation ended at that.

Benedikt meanwhile was fluttering from seat to seat at the long table, making sure everyone was sat according to the seating chart him and Jan had come up with. Sophie whispered to Nico asking just why such a thing was necessary when it was never a problem in the drivers briefing. He let out a small laugh, and said very quietly that it was mainly due to Jan’s perfectionist streak.

Once he’d finished fussing over the collar of his forest green flannel shirt, Benedikt led a small toast in honour of his soon to be departing teammate. Almost everyone in the paddock had noticed just how much Ben and Alistair’s working relationship had thawed since Silverstone. While still nowhere near being the best of friends, and some wondered if they ever would be, the Red Bull garage was apparently the most harmonious it had been for quite some time.

After Alistair had made a very brief speech, conversation between the drivers mainly remained in the clusters they found themselves in. Racing drivers may have had a reputation for being unruly but they certainly didn’t shout down long tables at each other. At least not very often.

“…and then,” Sophie paused to let out a small chuckle. Between the starter and the main course she’d found herself telling a podium story from her karting days that revolved around Nico’s first encounter with champagne. They were both 15 at the time, and as such not supposed to actually drink anything from the small bottles presented to them on the podium, but Nico being the race winner felt far too jubilant to do what he was told. “He lifted his trophy up so high and so fast, that the momentum pushed him backwards off the step of the podium and right into the board at the back.”

Nathan, James, Cristóbal and Teo all burst out laughing, while Nico threw his head back in embarrassment.

“I had to drop my trophy to catch him so he didn’t get hurt.”

“So you love to remind me amie.” Nico took a quick swig of his water, and cocked his eyebrow as a similarly embarrassing story about Sophie must have popped into his mind. “But, at least I didn’t take another driver’s trophy home.”

“Sophie Lillian Knightsbridge, how very dare you!” James said with a mock gasp as Sophie let out a small groan and slid down in her seat a few centimetres, before retorting that the whole thing had been an accident.

“Okay one, what the hell Soph and two,” Nathan paused to look at James. “How do you know her middle name is Lillian?”

“The team had us film one of those driver Q&A videos at the factory last week.” If a team had drivers that genuinely got on with each other, the PR departments loved to take advantage of it, and McLaren was no exception. During the filming session Sophie had learned that James’ middle name was Nigel, after his father. The two teammates had also ended up debating about whether or not Yorkshire puddings were an essential part of a Sunday roast.

“Anyway,” Nico cleared his throat after taking another sip of water. “So the trophy incident was at Hockenheim, when we were racing in FRECA together…”

The drivers had taken one final group picture together in the foyer of the restaurant, to go with the one of them all sat at the table after Benedikt had paid the bill – being reigning champion, that luxury had fallen to him by default. As everyone made their way to leave, Alistair slowly managed to convince Giovanni, Marc, Daniel and Jan to stay for drinks at the bar. By the looks of things, Alistair didn’t seem to care whether or not he turned up to the press day tomorrow with a raging hangover, as he very loudly ordered a round of beers plus tequila shots.

Nathan politely turned down an invite from Alistair to join them, but half joked that they could have a drink on him as he pulled out his phone to hire a taxi back to the hotel. Benedikt, who hadn’t been invited to join the potential all night bender, asked if there was a seat available for him since they were all staying at the same hotel. Nathan had thought ahead and booked a car for six just in case, and the quintet of himself plus Sophie, Nico, James and Ben piled into the taxi when it arrived.

“So, what’s this I hear about you stealing someone’s trophy?” Benedikt asked Sophie with a wry grin as the car pulled away from the restaurant. She let out another small groan and considered kicking Nico in the shins.

“Again, I didn’t meant to, I just picked up the wrong one by accident,” She folded her arms across her chest with a loud huff for good measure. “It wasn’t my fault they were all the same size.”

A couple of snickers made their way round the interior of the taxi as Benedikt intentionally or not bumped his shoulder with Sophie’s, she quickly glanced up at him and huffed a small smile for no reason at all.

The remainder of the taxi ride was somewhat quiet, Nathan showed Sophie some pictures his sister had sent from Vancouver. He owned a large cabin not too far from the city which he used as a base for training over the winter break, whereas during the rest of the year Nathan lived in London instead of Monte Carlo like so many of his colleagues. When Sophie had said that she hadn’t had that much time to properly explore the city, Nathan had offered to show her some of his favourite dinner spots the next time they were both in town.

When they got back to the hotel everyone made for the lift as unlike others, they wanted a proper night’s sleep before facing the press tomorrow. James pressed the buttons for everyone’s floor and casually leaned against the wall with one foot crossed over the other ankle. Sophie equal parts liked and envied how comfortable and at ease James seemed in just about any environment.

“So what time is everything going out tomorrow?” He asked Sophie with a hint of a smile. She briefly threw her head back, wondering if it was possible to keep any kind of secret in the paddock.

“Half eight in the morning.” Sophie couldn’t help it as a lazy grin made its way onto her face. Nathan looked between the two teammates with wide eyes before hugging Sophie round the shoulders. He seemed genuinely thrilled at confirmation of the contract extension he had apparently known about for the past week.

James exited the lift first on the sixth floor, then Nathan stepped out on the ninth, while Sophie, Nico and Benedikt all strolled out on the tenth floor.

“See you tomorrow,” Nico enveloped Sophie in another giant bear hug and kissed her on the cheek before wishing both her and Benedikt goodnight as he slipped into his room.

“So…” Ben finally spoke once they were a few paces down the hallway. As it turned out their rooms for the week were once again opposite each other. “You’re staying then?” They were walking so close together that Sophie felt his knuckles brush against the back of her hand, which she didn’t draw away.

“I’m staying.” Her smile still hadn’t left her face as she spoke. She looked up at Ben, surprised at the lack of a banter filled reply. “What, no teasing about how you’re going to beat me on track next year?”

Benedikt just shrugged with a lazy smile. “I’m happy for you. Besides, I’ve got this year’s title to win first.” His face briefly lit up like the sun as he spoke.

A part of Sophie hadn’t really stopped thinking about when she’d last seen Ben in Singapore, or more specifically how she’d felt about him in Singapore. And while she still found her revelation mildly terrifying Sophie couldn’t help but wonder, as Benedikt placed a warm and gentle hand on her shoulder as he said goodnight when they reached her door, if there was a chance he felt the same way about her.

Sophie quietly gulped as she watched Ben cross the short distance to his room on the other side of the hallway. Unlike in Singapore, they were both completely sober.

“I uh…” The sound of Sophie’s voice was enough to cause Benedikt to turn around. “I haven’t used any of those complimentary coffee sachets… if you’d like one?” Sophie knotted her fingers together as her question hung in the air. Apart from herself and Benedikt, the hallway was empty.

Almost instantly a bright grin burst onto Ben’s face, practically lighting him up from within, as he walked over towards Sophie with his hands by his side.

“Coffee sounds perfect.” His voice was soft and low, almost as if it was for Sophie alone to hear. She found herself almost glued to his eyes, they were very quickly becoming her favourite shade of blue. “Unless we’re just going to stand here admiring each other?” Ben’s smile grew a little bit wider as Sophie gave her head a small shake.

“Right, yes. Coffee, inside.” As Benedikt let out a small laugh Sophie could feel her cheeks blush a deep red as she pulled her keycard out of her pocket, and finally opened the door.

“What happened to your hair by the way?” Ben asked as he closed the door behind them, though Sophie didn’t quite hear over the sudden feeling of her heart pounding in her chest. “Your hair, it was more red at testing.”

“Oh that,” Sophie huffed and briefly twirled a lock of hair between her fingers before flicking it over her shoulder. “I’d dyed it, worst mistake of my life.” She set the kettle to boil without checking if there was enough water in it.

“I’m sure there’s more embarrassing things than dying your hair the wrong colour.” Ben chuckled.

“Tell that to Vanessa and Nico, they didn’t let me live it down for weeks,” Sophie rolled her eyes and briefly looked down at the floor. “No, this is me, what I actually look like.” As she huffed another small smile, Benedikt crossed the few paces of space between them and ended up so close to her that the toes of their shoes were almost touching.

“Well, I like it.” Ben’s grin had shrunk into a lazy smile, but his eyes hadn’t really stopped sparkling. Especially when he moved a stray strand of hair out of Sophie’s face that she hadn’t even noticed was there.

She was starting to think that Benedikt was a lot more than ‘stranger on a train’ handsome the longer she found herself looking at his face. His jaw was well defined, and all of his features were perfectly in proportion with each other, from his ears to his straight nose and the dimples in his cheeks. Though she found herself glancing between the depth of his eyes, that were framed with long golden eyelashes, to the curve of his smile. Sophie felt Benedikt take in a small breath and watched as he quickly pressed his lips together before speaking even softer. “Can I…”

The moment Sophie realised she was seconds away from teetering off the edge of the cliff she went up on her toes, propelled by the thumping in her chest as she placed her hands on Ben’s waist, feeling the soft flannel of his shirt under her fingers, and closed the gap between them with a soft if lingering kiss.

Ben’s lips broke out into a smile as he wrapped both arms around Sophie’s waist and pulled her close, kissing her right back. It was slow and deep and gentle and everything that Sophie wanted. They broke apart briefly, taking in quick breaths before kissing each other again almost senselessly. Sophie’s hands skimmed up Benedikt’s chest to his shoulders before her fingers finally tangled themselves in his soft, thick hair. He’d had it trimmed since the summer, but it was still long enough for Sophie to run her fingers through.

When they properly broke apart for air, Ben’s cheeks were flushed and his lips kiss swollen as he softly brushed his nose against Sophie’s, staying as close as possible to her.

Sophie couldn’t help but wonder if this was what Nico had been talking about in Monaco, finding someone she wanted to dive into the deep end for.

All manner of thoughts started to run through her mind. She hadn’t just invited anyone from the paddock into her hotel room and kissed them until they couldn’t breathe. Benedikt, another driver, the championship leader and the latest in a very long line of Red Bull proteges. If anyone found out then her newly signed contract surely wouldn’t be around much longer.

“Hey…” Her panic must have found its way into Sophie’s eyes, as Ben brought a hand to her face and tenderly brushed his thumb across her cheek. “I won’t tell a soul… I’d never do that to you.” He said ever so softly, and as Sophie looked into his eyes she felt that she could trust him.

She also thought she was going to drown if she wasn’t careful.

Sophie brushed the collar of Ben’s flannel shirt between her fingers as she tilted her head to the side, letting out the smallest of sighs. And as a sparkling grin began to return to Ben’s face, she kissed him much more hungrily.

She dived in, heart first.

Thursday 28th September

A barely there scent of apples was the first thing Benedikt’s brain registered when he woke the next morning. Then came the soft bedsheets against his bare skin, the weight of Sophie’s body resting against his, and lastly her hair tickling his nose with her head nestled into the crook of his neck.

He’d gone into her room the night before with the best of intentions. But when one thing had started to lead to another, and Sophie had been alright with it, he’d happily went along with her. Especially when she’d said between kisses that they didn’t have to do anything he didn’t want to. Ben hadn’t really been able to get Sophie out of his head after Singapore, but right between her kissing him and them sleeping together he’d realised that he absolutely didn’t want to.

So Benedikt simply lay there, not rushing to check his phone or worry about the day’s schedule in the hope that he’d have enough time to stay while Sophie remained in her deep sleep lying on his chest.

But then, once he was fully awake, Ben could feel the minutes start to tick by and the sun grow brighter behind the curtains and he wondered how long he had before his phone would ring from the bedside table.

He gently brushed Sophie’s hair from her face, and quietly said her name hoping it would rouse her, but even slowly running the tips of his fingers down her back and arm did nothing. He honestly thought Sophie had been joking when she’d said the he would need to wake her up in the morning because of how heavy a sleeper she was. Benedikt never really did one night stands, but he knew he’d never forgive himself if he just left.

And yet he was almost certain that if someone, anyone saw him wearing yesterday’s clothes and recognised the room he’d left as Sophie’s – she would be the only one to face any potential consequences.

So he kissed the top of her head, eased her sleeping form off him as gently as possible and very reluctantly left the warmth of the bed. Ben quietly tiptoed around slowly collecting his underwear and clothes that had been strewn all across the room. He found his shirt first and threw it on without doing up the buttons. It was only once he’d stepped into his jeans and tried to start writing a note to explain himself that Sophie finally stirred herself awake.

Benedikt felt hit with immediate guilt when Sophie reached out for him only to find empty sheets.

“Hey, I’m here.” He said softly, quickly lying back down on top of the bed.

Sophie blinked at him through bleary eyes. “You’re dressed.” The fact that she’d just woken up meant that she didn’t hide her disappointment that was laced through her voice and written all over her face.

“I know, I’m sorry.” He said quickly, knowing it wasn’t enough. “I… I got a little bit too caught up in promising that last night would stay between us. I don’t want to get you into trouble,” Ben couldn’t help himself as he reached out to run the tips of his fingers through her hair. “Not with your contract extension getting announced today.”

Sophie let out a small sigh as her shoulders drooped down. She didn’t say anything and stretched out her right arm, briefly resting her hand on top of his before attempting to fit their hands together.

“Okay,” She said quietly looking right into his eyes while Ben properly entwined their fingers “This is your one and only free pass.”

Benedikt squeezed Sophie’s hand, and leaned over to kiss her on the forehead. “I’ll do whatever I can to make it up to you.”

“You owe me dinner.” She said immediately, he couldn’t help but agree with her and made a silent promise to hold himself to his word.

After checking his phone and seeing that it was almost 7am, Benedikt gave Sophie a long kiss goodbye once he was sure he had everything he needed in his pockets, and he darted across the empty hallway to his room unnoticed.

He’d barely gotten properly dressed when Matt knocked on his door minutes later – as usual collecting him for breakfast. Ben greeted his trainer with a bright smile as if everything was completely normal and a part of his axis hadn’t completely shifted, and they took the nearest lift down to the ground floor and walked straight into the hotel dining room.

Ben piled his usual breakfast fare – porridge drizzled with honey, some fresh fruit, a mug of green tea and a tall glass of orange juice – onto bowls and plates and took his food over to the table Matt had claimed before going back for his drinks.

He recognised Sophie’s laugh before he’d looked round to see her walk in with Vanessa and Richard.

They exchanged a polite good morning, pretending as if they hadn’t seen each other since last night. And he felt grateful that they could look each other in the eye without feeling embarrassed as neither Richard or Vanessa made anything of their brief exchange, and Benedikt silently collected his drinks and made for his and Matt’s table.

As he waited for Matt in the hotel lobby at exactly half past eight, showered and changed into his team gear, Benedikt let out a long sigh of relief as at the third time of refreshing McLaren’s Instagram page he saw the post confirming Sophie’s contract extension through to 2026. He quickly pocketed his phone, and felt his shoulders ease.

Matt finally arrived seconds later with Vanessa and Sophie in tow. They were laughing over something, Ben couldn’t make out what and he tightened his grip on the strap of his backpack as they walked over towards him. It had been so long since he’d been attracted to someone and he could actually do something about it that for the first time all year he didn’t know what to do with himself around Sophie.

“The announcement’s out, congratulations.” He smiled with a relieved sigh, hoping it was the right thing to say.

“Thank- Wait already?” Sophie said quickly, and hurriedly went to check her phone. She let out her own sigh of relief when she saw the post on her screen, and beamed from ear to ear. “I was starting to wonder if yesterday had been one massive fever dream.” She puffed out her cheeks as she pocketed her phone, still smiling. “See you at the track.” There was a sparkle in her eyes that was impossible to miss as she clapped Ben on the shoulder and he hoped it had been intentional when she held her hand in place for a few moments longer than necessary.

“Yeah, see you.” He resisted the urge to watch her leave and turned to Matt instead. With his trainer happy that he had everything they walked out into the mild morning air and over to Ben’s rental car to make their own way to the circuit.

Benedikt did what he could to compartmentalise his newer feelings towards Sophie on the drive over. They were still friends, he hoped, and still competitors. There was every chance they might find each other on track on Sunday, and if anything was going to happen between them, he didn’t want it to affect their ability to race each other. He knew Sophie would feel the same way.

Once at the track Benedikt breezed through the turnstiles and greeted the awaiting photographers with a small wave and a wide smile, before carrying on his conversation with Matt about when they would be able to fit in their track run.

He walked into the engineer’s briefing five minutes early and as usual the room was quiet apart from the clacking of fingers on keyboards. Harry and his performance engineer Claudia had already arrived and Ben took his seat in between them, carefully putting on his radio headset. He opened his notebook at a fresh page, gave his ballpoint pen a firm click and wrote a header at the top in neat letters.

Just because Benedikt had won the last three races and had been victorious here last year didn’t mean that winning again on Sunday was guaranteed. He would put the work in, as he did every single session, to find every thousandth of lap time on the track.

Ben had realised early on in the season just how lucky he was to have a such a strong car, and he was determined to make the most of it. For the thrill of being able to call himself world champion, so that everyone in the race team and at the factory in Milton Keynes could say that their hard work and sleepless nights had paid off, so Benedikt could once again have the number 1 on his car for all to see.

Because he knew deep down, though didn’t want to admit it, that he wasn’t going to keep on winning forever.

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 4 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 19 - The Dream Team

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter: 19/57 Word count: 4.9k Summary: When friends become family

long story short, this chapter is a big reason why I wanted to re-write LITFL in the first place and have ended up doing so.

long story long, when I was writing the first version of Change In Colour, I very quickly realised that I had never done enough to showcase Sophie's, Richard's and Vanessa's friendship in the original version of LITFL, so when I was planning the chapters for this re-write I really wanted to dedicate a chapter that showcased their relationship being cemented. I'd also always had Richard being British-Asian in my mind, but I got too in my own head about how to showcase it properly in the previous works.

A massive amount of inspiration for this chapter came from a very similar scene in the book and film adaption of Crazy Rich Asians by Kevin Kwan. I've never been able to visit Singapore, so while I did do a lot of research for this chapter, if there's still some gaping inaccuracies please let me know and I will do my upmost to fix them asap.

Hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

Sunday 10th September – Heathrow Airport

As they arrived at the airport Vanessa had joked that if her career as a performance coach didn’t work out, she’d be able to apply for a job at Heathrow considering how well she knew all the terminals by now. Sophie just laughed and said that her Mum would happily provide a reference.

They met Richard inside the terminal building and went through the check-in process which they all knew like the backs of their hands. Only this time, as Mary had very happily informed Sophie over the phone that morning, she’d had the three of them upgraded to first class. Richard didn’t quite believe that he had been included until he walked into the British Airways lounge. Vanessa said that it was Mary’s way of saying Richard had hers and Mark’s seal of approval.

The lounge was paved with a dark wooden style floor, and scattered with plush furniture across the different spaces. The dining area, all spacious high-walled navy booths and wooden tables, was where Sophie, Vanessa and Richard were sat as they had decided to treat themselves even further to an afternoon tea since their flight wasn’t due to depart until half past seven.

“Your turn Ness.” Richard said as he passed Vanessa his mini-tablet. He frequently played mahjong solitaire to pass the time during airport visits, and as his own set of mahjong tiles was too precious to ever leave his flat (they had been a graduation present from his late grandfather) he hadn’t gotten round to teaching Sophie and Vanessa how to play, so Richard would let them take turns in picking tile formations for him to tackle instead.

While Richard had been born and raised in Woking – his mother’s side of the family, the Liao’s, were from Singapore. His parents had met at university in London, and since his mother’s plan was always to get a job in the UK she ended up having another reason to stay.

Ever since Richard had been old enough to fly, his family always set aside money so they could visit his grandparents every Summer holiday. As such he knew the island well enough that he’d promised to take Sophie and Vanessa on a guided tour of the sights on the two acclimatisation days they had. Given the way he’d been talking about it, Richard had been planning everything since the summer break. Which was why Sophie was surprised that her press officer was now so quiet.

“You okay Rich?” Sophie asked once the waiter had left after bringing over the stacks of scones, sandwiches and pastries.

“Yeah.” Richard said quickly, as he went to fill his plate and pour everyone tea. Sophie and Vanessa shared a small look, and silently decided to leave him be as they switched their attention to try and figure out the different sandwich fillings.

Their flight boarded and departed on time, starting the thirteen and a half hour journey over to Singapore. Sophie and Richard’s seats were together in the middle of the cabin while Vanessa had a window seat, so Richard was able to go over the week’s event and press schedule with relative ease. The race was one of the more unique on the calendar, with it being held at night and the eight hour time difference everyone operated on UK time for the duration of the race week. And while it had the advantage of minimal jet lag – it meant sleeping and eating at odd times of the day.

“So we land in Singapore at just after 4pm local time which is…” Sophie paused to quickly do the maths in her head. “8am back home.”

“Correct.” Richard nodded, picking up his cutlery. Another perk of flying in first class meant being able to have their meals whenever they wanted. Sophie had opted for asparagus soup while Richard had ordered sea bass. “So if we wake up one or two hours before we land, it’s basically like having an early start,” He paused to let out a long, content hum after his first forkful of food. “Your Mum better not upgrade us all the time, I’ll get used to it very quickly.”

Sophie let out a small laugh at the thought of her humble press officer going all snobby as she spread a pat of butter on her dinner roll.

“Speaking of the finer things, can I not get one hint about where you’re taking us tomorrow?” Sophie pleaded, adding an elongated please for good measure.

“Again, I want it all to be a surprise,” Richard pointed at her with the tip of his knife. “You are unbelievably stubborn.”

“I’m a racing driver what do you expect?” Sophie retorted with a small shrug. At that Richard let out a small chuckle and shook his head as he returned his attention to his dinner. Sophie knew that Richard wasn’t going to let on about the trip, she had just wanted him to crack a proper smile for the first time all day.

Vanessa returned to her seat five minutes later having used the complimentary shower. She walked down the aisle in her pyjamas, and joked in an imitation posh accent that she was going to order the cheeseboard for supper.

“On second thought,” Richard said quietly, leaning over towards Sophie. “Maybe we need to worry about Vanessa going regal.”

Sophie full on sorted with laughter, and had to take care not to knock her soup on the floor. Thankfully for the three of them first class was fairly empty, which meant that they could just be themselves without any pretences.

“So,” Richard had said quietly once one of the cabin crew had taken away their empty plates and poured them fresh cups of tea. “Anything you might want to tell me about your seat for next year?” He looked at Sophie over the rim of the porcelain white cup with the smallest hint of a smirk on his face.

“Well…” Sophie started, and quickly stopped herself because she didn’t know what she was allowed to say. There had been somewhat of a breakthrough during the week, McLaren hadn’t just decided that Sophie was their first choice for 2024 alongside James – but they had offered a multi-year deal that Becks was still combing through the finer details of. “It’s starting to look like I’m staying, all things being well.”

She couldn’t even begin to describe just how big a weight it was off her shoulders.

“Just wanted to double check that the whispers going around the factory were accurate.” Richard said with a bright grin, and he held out his teacup in a small toast. “To next year, hopefully.”

Sophie ever so delicately clinked her cup with Richard’s. “Hopefully.”

Monday 11th September – Singapore

The flight landed on time, and thankfully everyone was reunited with their suitcases at the baggage carousel. Walking through the arrivals hall of the terminal felt more like visiting a modern art gallery than an airport, and while Sophie had visited Singapore once during her second F1 Academy season, it was Vanessa’s first time. Once the coach had reached the city centre, she couldn’t stop looking out the windows and pointing at landmarks.

“It is way more beautiful than the TV cameras make it look.” Vanessa said with a sigh. Richard said nothing from his seat across the aisle as he was rapidly typing into his phone. The journey over to the hotel was made a little longer thanks to some of the nearby roads making up parts of the circuit, but everyone was checked into their rooms by 6pm.

Richard collected Sophie and Vanessa from their rooms just before 8, and said that while the bulk of their sightseeing was happening tomorrow, he was taking them somewhere special for what was technically lunch. They walked to the nearest MRT station and changed lines twice before Richard finally stopped talking in rapid fire directions.

“We’re getting off at the Botanic Gardens,” He said as the train departed the station. With all the walking they’d done already, Sophie regretted wearing sandals instead of trainers like Vanessa. “Then it’s literally just round the corner.” Richard looked down at his feet and gripped his hand around the pole above him a little tighter. The train car was busy, but not jam packed which allowed Sophie and Vanessa to sit together while Richard stood above them keeping an eye out for their stop.

It was only once they were off the train and back in the hot, humid evening air that Richard finally started to look more like himself. Even walking with a small skip in his step. He said that they were going to a hawker centre, of which there were hundreds dotted all over the island. Vanessa and Sophie were excited at the prospect of street food, while Richard seemed relieved that it wasn’t too busy. There were more food stalls than Sophie could count all with different signs above them encircling a large seating area that was filled with bright yellow benches.

“You two grab a table, I’ll get the first course.” It clearly wasn’t Richard’s first visit as me made a bee line for one the stalls on the left and joined the back of a short queue, while Sophie and Vanessa walked their way through the mass of benches and found a free one near the middle. The clientele seemed to be mainly locals, which Vanessa took as a good sign. And if any of them had recognised Sophie no one seemed phased by her presence, which suited her just fine.

About ten minutes later Richard returned with three steaming bowls, each one filled with noodles in a dark broth and cooked prawns layered on top. “Prawn noodles! They’re my Mum’s favourite, she insisted this was the first thing you tried.” Richard sat down next to Sophie and even rubbed his hands together excitedly before he passed out bottles of water from his backpack.

“Oh this is amazing!” Vanessa exclaimed after her first spoonful, and while Sophie didn’t speak with her mouth full she eagerly nodded in agreement. Richard beamed when he said that in his mother’s opinion they were the best prawns on the whole island, and it had taken her years to perfect a recipe to make them at home so it would be as close as possible to having the real thing.

The second they’d finished their noodles Richard had darted off to another stall, and this time came back with a singular plate. “Now this is nasi lemak. It’s coconut rice, with a couple of chicken wings, a fried egg and some sliced cucumber.” He pointed to each item on the plate with his chopsticks, and explained the history of the dish in between mouthfuls of food, which again was absolutely delicious.

“We might have to roll each other out of here.” Vanessa huffed when Richard had ran off to another stall claiming that it was going to be the last one. “Still,” She mused as she looked around, taking in the atmosphere of chatting diners and all the different smells coming from the food stalls. “I don’t think I’ve eaten this well all season.”

Sophie hummed in agreement, and spotted Richard approaching their bench with two plates. Compared to the previous dishes it looked rather simple – strips of cooked chicken on one and a generous portion of rice on the other, with two small dishes of dipping sauce on the side.

“Hainanese chicken and rice, this one was my Ah-Ma’s – my Gran’s – favourite.” Richard said with a small smile as he sat down. He wasted no time in taking a piece of chicken with his of chopsticks and dipped it in one of the sauces, smiling as he ate.

When the plates were empty, they let their food go down while sipping on their bottles of water and taking pictures for memories sake. Out of nowhere Richard, who had been gazing off into the distance in silence for a couple of minutes, started talking again in a heavy voice. His eyes that were always so warm now looked distant and glassy.

“Every time we’d come over to visit, my Grandad would take us all to the botanic gardens – he loved the orchid garden the best. No matter which one I’d point at, he knew what species or hybrid it was. Mum always said he was the reason she became a geologist.” Richard huffed a small, if strained laugh. “Then once we’d walked our feet off, my Gran would bring us here for food. And… when I got my job at McLaren three years ago I’d always make the time to take them to dinner every Singapore race week.” He then looked down at his hands, and drew in a long, shaky breath. “This is my first time back since their funeral I…” Richard gave a cough that sounded like it was disguising a sob. “I didn’t think it would hurt this much.”

Sophie immediately hugged Richard around the middle as tightly as she could, while Vanessa jumped out of her seat and wrapped her arms round Richard’s shoulders. They let him cry for as long as he felt he needed, and after a couple of minutes he patted Sophie and Vanessa’s arms and they let him go, but still stayed planted by his side.

“We’re really grateful you chose to share this place with us Rich.” Vanessa said softly, still keeping a hand on his shoulder. She silently pulled a packet of tissues out of her pocket and handed it over. Richard nodded in thanks and wiped his eyes, and said that if Sophie and Vanessa were up for it, he had planned on taking them to the botanic gardens tomorrow. They both said yes instantly.

Richard told more stories about his grandparents the whole way back to the hotel and they arrived back shortly after eleven, heading straight for the hotel bar to share a couple of pots of tea.

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay this weekend Rich? If you need some time off-” Sophie started only for Richard to cut her off by giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

“I promise I’ll be fine, tonight helped more than you could know.”

They spent another ten minutes lamenting how to spend their time since the bulk of the hotel’s amenities were now closed, but eventually Vanessa decided that with the flight and all the food they’d eaten at the hawker centre that she was going to order a light supper from room service and watch a film before bed. And since the hotel bar was closing Sophie and Richard chummed her back to her room.

Vanessa gave Richard the biggest hug goodnight, and said with a beaming smile how much she was looking forward to their tour around the city tomorrow. Richard just grinned and said he was happy to show them round his second home.

Sophie and Richard walked aimlessly down the corridor, not really knowing where to go as their rooms were on a different floor.

“I was thinking of watching an old race, since it’s been years I last drove here.” Sophie said when the lift at the end of the hallway came into view. Richard nodded, saying it sounded like a good idea. “You wouldn’t have any recommendations would you? I couldn’t decide which one to watch.” They stopped walking when they reached the lift, and Richard hummed as he contemplated the offer.

“Vettel’s last race win is always a classic.”

“I can order us both room service if you want anything for dinner?” Sophie offered.

Richard grinned, and reached out to press the button for the lift. “Deal.”

Sunday 17th September – Marina Bay Sands, Singapore

An ultra-exclusive nightclub was the last place Sophie had expected to find herself after the race. But, a double points finish for McLaren combined with Richard’s reassurances that the party was for paddock personnel only, she had happily pulled a white linen dress from her suitcase. And as an added bonus, they’d just so happened to run into Sophie’s mechanics sat in a corner booth enjoying a few quiet drinks moments after they arrived. Or as quiet as it could be given the dance music coming from the DJ booth.

Sophie insisted on buying a round of drinks, and carefully made her way over to the bar. She ordered a Singapore sling for Vanessa, a negroni for Richard, a pear cider for herself, and a beer for each of her mechanics. With assurances from the bartender that a waiter would bring the drinks over to their booth, Sophie turned round to head back before Steve sent out a search and rescue party. Only to walk right into Benedikt’s path. The two drivers apologised with a shy laugh, since the music wasn’t as loud at the bar neither of them had to shout to be heard.

“I guess I should say congratulations,” Sophie added as Ben stepped forward to catch the bartender’s attention. “You first win here for three years… even if you did wipe the floor with the lot of us.”

Benedikt shook his head as his cheeks flushed pink before ordering a round of beers. If the news that Red Bull’s technical director Alison Hawthorn was leaving the team to join Audi had affected Ben in any way, he didn’t show it. As well as winning from pole and getting the fastest lap, his winning margin had been just shy of twenty seconds.

“Is this the part where you tell me you’ll get me back next year?” Ben asked with a wide grin. His voice wasn’t taunting, but it still had the hint of friendly competition that so many drivers bantered with.

“Oh, something like that.” Sophie said with a lazy smile before turning to head back to the booth. “Have a good night, tell your mechanics well done from me.”

“The same to you!”

Sophie wasn’t sure if Ben meant that about having a good time, congratulating her mechanics on 8th place, or even both. But she let it slide when she saw her teammates come back into view, where as promised a bartender was depositing their drinks.

Richard briefly stepped out of the booth to give Sophie the spot he’d saved her between himself and Steve, and led a small toast once he’d sat back down. Given the sheer workload of the weekend, no one was interested in much more than chatting – until Tommy’s favourite song came on about half an hour later.

“Oh I’ll dance with you!” Sophie, who had just finished a second cider, stood up when no one else could be bothered. Jamie and Aditya, suddenly feeling left out, rushed to join them and the four of them loudly sang along to the lyrics as they danced around a small spot on the floor. Sophie wasn’t completely sure of the words, but she didn’t care as she was spun round the floor by her mechanics. Her and Jamie had to stop because they’d made each other dizzy, and they couldn’t stop laughing as they slowly made their way back to their seats.

Once Aditya had sat back down, he glanced down at his watch and cursed that it was nearing 3am, at which everyone had decided they’d had enough revelry and would be better off back at the hotel. Sophie piled her mechanics into a taxi first so they would be in bed sooner and Steve, who was the last to get in, promised he would get everyone back to their rooms safe and sound.

Benedikt and his mechanics all piled out of the entrance not long after, and he too shepherded people into taxis insisting that he would get one back to the hotel as soon as possible. Richard, being the most sober one present, correctly remembered that everyone from Red Bull and McLaren were staying at the same hotel and he offered Benedikt a lift in their taxi.

It was only as Ben waved off his mechanics that Sophie felt just how humid it was standing on the pavement, and she rued having that second cider. Thankfully Matt, who had emerged from the club carrying bottles of water, had thought of that as he passed them around the small group.

“I don’t know what they put in that Singapore Sling but it’s making the world spin.” Vanessa groaned with her head in her hands once their taxi had finally driven away from the nightclub. All Sophie could do was encourage her to sip her water as the taxi drove its way through the maze of skyscrapers and bright lights.

Once back in the air-conditioned hotel lobby, Sophie, Richard and Matt aided a slightly better looking Vanessa back to her room. She complained the whole way that she didn’t need three chaperones, Matt quickly retorted that it was the price paid for having people who cared about you.

“I promise I’ll call one of you if I start to feel worse.” Vanessa groaned after Richard was the third person to ask if she really was alright. She said she would see them all at breakfast as she chased everyone out of her room.

A wave of exhaustion crashed over Sophie as she stepped back into the hallway. Having alcohol, even light stuff, so soon after a near-two hour race in humidity that felt worse than Malaysia suddenly didn’t seem like one of her better life choices. She went to politely excuse herself and wish Richard and Matt goodnight, when she remembered that Richard’s room was on the same floor as hers – though almost at opposite ends. So as they had done on earlier on in the week, they shared a lift and got off on the twenty-somethingth floor, and slowly meandered down the thick carpet before stopping at Richard’s room.

“I’m proud of you mate, you did really well today.” Richard said with a soft smile, and even tightly hugged Sophie round the shoulders. Normally 8th place wouldn’t have felt like much to Sophie, but after her form in the previous two races plus coping with all the added heat and humidity, it was four points she was very pleased to have. “Go on,” Richard gestured down the long hallway. “Bedtime. I’ll come get you for breakfast.”

“Night Rich.” Sophie gave her press officer a small wave goodnight, and slowly made the long walk over to her suite.

She spent the time deliberating whether or not to have a shower or to just jump straight into bed. It had felt like a long weekend, despite the lack of jetlag. As well as the usual race weekend media obligations Sophie and James had been at a black tie sponsor event on Wednesday. And while Sophie realised that she did enjoy dressing up to the nines occasionally, she just didn’t enjoy doing so for other people. Let alone schmoozing for the sake of keeping the big wigs happy. She’d also been surprised that James hadn’t exactly enjoyed himself either, even if he was such a charming natural at it all.

The walk through the hallway felt endless. While luxury hotels were designed with comfort and the best amenities in mind, Sophie felt that they needed to do something with their hallway décor so it didn’t feel like she was going round in circles (not that she had much room to talk since her flat was still a work in progress despite having lived there for nine months now, but at least she had ‘constantly traveling to race tracks’ as an excuse).

She finally turned a corner that felt partially familiar, and Sophie knew she was near the door to her suite not because she recognised a vase or a corner of some wall art – but because Benedikt was waiting outside her door with his hands stuffed in the pockets of his jeans.

“How’s Vanessa?” He asked immediately, but softly, when he saw Sophie come into view. They had ran into each other on Wednesday night, Benedikt heading to the restaurant and Sophie being collected by Richard to go to the back tie event. They’d said a brief hello in passing, with Ben joking over his shoulder that Sophie would find a way to survive all the handshaking.

“She’s fine,” Sophie nodded. “Ness just hates being fussed over. So long as she’s protesting about being helped, she’ll make a quick recovery.”

“I just, well…” Ben paused to bounce up and down on his toes. “She’s Matt’s friend and your friend and we’re friends so,” He paused again, not fully knowing where he was going with his point. “I’m glad she’s alright.”

Sophie hummed, and noted that like herself Benedikt was in some strange middle ground between sober and tipsy. She went to reach out for the door handle to her room when Ben said there was something else he wanted to ask Sophie about, but he couldn’t remember what, and he clicked his fingers together a few times until it suddenly came to him.

“The drivers dinner we’re having in Korea, did Nico or James mention it to you?”

“Yes, I’m on the dinner list.”

“Good,” Benedikt nodded. “Have you ever raced at Yeongam before?” He asked, seemingly pulling the question out of thin air, for some reason not wanting to go to bed just yet.

“Nope, never,” Sophie replied with a small shake of the head. “I was going to watch some old on-board laps on the flight over to go with all the sim prep.”

“Oh, you’ll love it!” Ben exclaimed, his eyes almost sparkling as he started to talk in great detail about the circuit. “I can’t remember the year, I think it was one of the races Vettel won. Anyway…” He began to talk about an old race battle, demonstrating it as best he could using his hands in place of each car. Sophie followed along with every word, until her eyes found themselves switching between Benedikt’s hands and his face. His eyes were still sparkling like the night sky, and she couldn’t help but notice the way his lips curved into a small smile once he’d reached the end with an almost exhilarated sigh. For the briefest of moments, she felt like she was standing with her toes on the very edge of a cliff.

“I will have to add it to my list!” Sophie replied with a small smile, trying even harder not to notice how well the soft grey t-shirt Ben was wearing fitted his athletic frame, and that the colour almost perfectly complimented his eyes.

“When’s your flight?” He asked brightly.

“No idea.” Sophie huffed. Between the cider and Benedikt her mind was all sorts of scrambled. Since when did he have this kind of effect on her?

“Ah, I’m sure Richard will keep you right!” Ben grinned as he clapped Sophie’s shoulder, and intentionally or otherwise kept his hand there for a few seconds. Sophie felt every single brush of Ben’s fingers against her skin when he finally dropped his hand back at his side. “Well, see you at the airport then, maybe.” He smile had slightly dulled as he walked the few steps backwards towards his room. “It was nice to see you tonight anyway.”

“Uh yeah, you too.” Sophie shook her head ever so slightly after taking in a long breath of air that didn’t seem to have any trace of Ben’s aftershave, it seemed to reset her brain somewhat. “Goodnight.”

“Night Soph.”

They both stepped into their rooms and Sophie tried as hard as she could to not slam the door behind her in a panic. Once she slid the gold safety chain into place she spun round and leaned against the wall, looking out the large windows across the city with the palm of her hand pressed firmly against her forehead as her heart thumped in her chest. All while she tried desperately hard not to think about just how softly Ben had said her name.

“Oh no,” Sophie sighed breathlessly and quietly. She couldn’t afford this. Not now, when her new contract was within touching distance. “Shit I’m in trouble.”

Hazel wasn’t anything close to the right word for Sophie’s eyes. The burst of peridot green marbled through golden brown encased in a deep ebony circle. Like a woodland on a summers day.

Benedikt ran both hands down his face as he walked through to the bedroom and flopped backwards onto the bed, looking up at the plain white ceiling.

“Oh schisse,” He muttered, trying to pinpoint the exact moment he had realised just how gorgeous Sophie was, even with her cheeks flushed pink and hair frizzy from the humidity.

He shouldn’t be falling for her, not when he was so, so close to his fourth world title.

And yet, Sophie loved the history of the sport as much as he did, and she wanted F1 to become so much better. Just about everyone in the paddock could see the love and admiration she shared with her mechanics and everyone else at McLaren. And after all the press excitement that had surrounded her, she was still so completely down to earth and good to be around – all she ever tried to be was just Sophie from Northampton.

Ben felt like he was standing at the edge of a forest with the sun on his back, wondering just how bad it would be if he stepped inside.

***

Singapore Grand Prix 2023 Classification

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 18pts 3rd - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) - 15pts 4th - Marc Pavard (Mercedes) - 12pts 5th - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 10pts 6th - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) - 8pts 7th - James Hewitt (McLaren) - 6pts 8th - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) - 4pts 9th - Jan Martens (Audi) - 2pts 10th - Leon Bauer (Haas) - 1pt 11th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin) 12th - Nico Dumont (Alpha Tauri) 13th - Evan McKinley (Williams) 14th - Tadashi Sato (Haas) 15th - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) 16th - Antonio Lima (Alpha Tauri) 17th - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull)* RET - Aidan Glover (Williams) RET - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine) RET - Erik Braun (Audi) Fastest Lap - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 1pt * - Driver did not finish but was classified for completing 90% race distance

2023 Championship Standings After Round 14

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (SUI) - 252pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti (ITA) - 207pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins (CAN) - 176pts 4th - Alistair Mitchell (GBR) - 144pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez (ESP) - 143pts (8th - Sophie Knightsbridge (GBR) - 65pts 10th - James Hewitt (GBR) - 51pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull Racing-Honda (AUT) - 396pts 2nd - Ferrari (ITA) - 311pts 3rd - Mercedes-AMG (GER) - 298pts 4th - Alpine-Renault (FRA) - 202pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes (GBR) - 116pts

#to take tags from the ao3 link: yes I did mention Seb twice you cannot stop me from talking about him #my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 5 months

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Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 18 - 2023 Race 13: Italy

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter: 18/57 Word count: 4.5k Summary: Celebrations and mixed fortunes aplenty at the temple of speed.

I just wanted to do a little note to say that it's been almost a whole year since I posted this first chapter of this mega re-write project over on AO3, and I am so incredibly grateful for all the support on it thus far. I really cannot begin to say just how much it means to me, so thank you, and I hope you enjoy the latest chapter!

Thursday 31st August – Autodromo Nazionale di Monza

The whole paddock had been invited to McLaren’s 60th anniversary celebrations, which kicked off at precisely 5pm (Andrew’s insistence on perfect timing was impeccable as ever). Small champagne flutes had been arranged in neat rows on a white tablecloth at the entrance to the three story high motorhome, with more tables on the first floor dedicated to canapes and light bites of food.

The TV screens on the walls alternated between slideshows and video clips from all of McLaren’s most notable races (Sophie’s podium in Shanghai and victory in Hungary were prominent features), while every McLaren team member was dressed in vintage style uniforms. Short sleeved white button up shirts that had McLaren’s 60th anniversary logo on the front pocket, with papaya and sky blue stripes running down the left front. Sophie had once again gone to the effort of having her nails painted orange, as well as wearing her hair down for the day with a papaya fabric headband fixed in place.

“Between the two of you,” Nathan, who had found Sophie and Nico on the top floor about ten minutes ago and had stayed for a catch-up, gestured to both of them with a loose hand. “Hardly anyone is going to be talking about Ferrari all weekend. I’d avoid Gianluca at all costs, he’ll be pissed.”

“Oh, I’m sure the Tifosi will make up for it tomorrow!” Nico said with the same bright grin that hadn’t left his face all day. His promotion to Red Bull for 2024, for which he’d signed the contract on Tuesday, had finally been announced that morning. And Sophie, as well as being a happy participant in McLaren’s anniversary celebrations, was also set to match Lella Lombardi’s 13 race starts on Sunday (assuming mechanical reliability stayed on her side).

“Anyway, I have to go and do a quick interview, but save a spot for me on the quiz team!” Nathan called over his shoulder as he made his way toward one of the sets of stairs in search of his press officer.

As part of the evening’s festivities, the team was putting on a McLaren themed pub quiz. Andrew had barely signed off on the idea, but Martin had managed to talk him round claiming that there had to be something about the weekend for the team to enjoy. Since they were coming into it knowing that they might not be quick enough to score a single point come Sunday.

When Nico and Sophie made their way downstairs, Mark was still in deep conversation with Sophie’s mechanics. He seemed to have them all enthralled by tales of the old days, both on and off track judging by the loud laughter that would bubble out of the group every so often.

The quiz was the last event of the night after all the speeches and presentations, and Leena’s team of herself plus Chris, Paul, Amir and Leon wiped the floor with everyone else. Sophie’s team that included Nico, Nathan, Ben and Aaron came in second with Mark’s team of mechanics in joint third.

“For once, he finishes in second place,” James said in mock teasing in Ben’s direction, much to everyone else’s amusement.

“Ah, but if it had been a Red Bull quiz, I would have won.” Benedikt retorted with a wide grin as he got up from his chair. As the drivers began to disperse for the circuit car park, either heading back to their luxury mobile motorhomes or hotels, Ben intentionally hang back by Sophie’s side.

“I saw your helmet when I came in, you and Max did a beautiful job.”

“Thank you!” Sophie grinned, it had been a small weight off her shoulders knowing her helmet design for the weekend had turned out as well as she had hoped. “Max was great though, he’s doing my helmet for Singapore as well, and he even managed to work in a tribute to Lella at the last minute.”

“Oh really, I didn’t see it?”

At that Sophie insisted on showing Ben the two display helmets that had been painted in the same designs James and Sophie were running for the weekend. James’ was mostly the same as normal, bar the number 12 being painted on in a vintage style, with each of McLaren’s title winning years going around it in gold foil.

While Sophie’s helmet followed her usual pattern of stripes on a plain base, the colours had been switched for papaya and sky blue stripes on a white background, all of which were filled names and races. On the white background was the name of each McLaren team member, the first orange stripe listed every one of McLaren’s race wins, the middle blue stripe had the names of every single McLaren driver, and the second orange stripe featured all the races Sophie’s father had taken part in as a mechanic. And up at the top, encircling the number 16, was all thirteen races contested by Lella Lombardi.

“That’s really beautiful Sophie,” Ben said with a small, soft smile as he carefully set the helmet back down. “Has your Dad seen it?”

Sophie didn’t get to say that he had, as when Edward Morden and Charlotte Stewart got up from the table in the corner they’d been sat at with Martin and started making their way towards the door, Benedikt suddenly looked like he didn’t know where to put himself.

“Matt and Annika will be looking for me, I better go.” Ben said shyly, his eyes darting between Sophie and Edward. “See you tomorrow.” Out of nowhere, he put a gentle hand on Sophie’s shoulder and leaned down to kiss her cheek. Something that took them both by surprise as they gawked at each other for a couple of moments, before Benedikt very quickly darted away.

All Sophie could think about for a couple of minutes was that Ben’s aftershave somehow smelled like the mountain air he called home.

Sunday 3rd September

“Everybody eyes front!” David, McLaren’s team photographer, called out above the bubble of chatter emanating from the gathered team members. They were all stood in the warm sunshine in front of the motorhome, dressed in their neatly pressed uniforms with the management and drivers stood front and centre while the rest of the team were roughly arranged in rows behind.

Andrew had been in attendance for the whole weekend, and was less than impressed with the fact that his cars had qualified in ninth and tenth. But for a brief few seconds no one seemed to care about what little race pace they were going to have as the whole team fixed bright grins on their faces and smiled for however long they were told to. After all, 60th anniversaries weren’t very common in Formula 1, and everyone felt like they wanted to make the most of it regardless.

As expected the team had been under more media scrutiny than normal, with questions asked if whether McLaren would be able to fix their car problems before the regulation change in 2026, how was Sophie going to bounce back after her difficult race in Turkey, and would it be better for James to cut his losses and try to get a seat somewhere else? It had been a pleasant surprise when some journalists decided to ignore all of that, and ask questions about McLaren’s historical achievements instead.

Ferrari however were still the main attraction for the tens of thousands of Tifosi that had filled the circuit grounds. All of the grandstands were filled with red for as far as the eye could see, and the reception that Giovanni and Teo got on the drivers parade was almost deafening.

Sophie was stood with Nico and a still sheepish Benedikt, who had pulled Sophie aside after the driver’s briefing on Friday and apologised for kissing her on the cheek out of the blue. Admittedly, Sophie hadn’t felt uncomfortable by the encounter, just surprised at the display of apparent affection. But she accepted the apology none the less, and insisted that they were still on good terms. Still friends.

“And now, onto the birthday boy,” Lise from German TV was conducting the interviews on the drivers parade, as the flat-bed truck slowly trundled through the chicane at the end of Curva Grande. “How many seconds would you like to win by? 26 maybe since that’s how old you are today?”

Benedikt puffed out his cheeks and let out a bright laugh, but now that Sophie knew him better she could see the very small hint of shyness behind it.

“I think any win would be nice today,” He paused to adjust his cap and wave at the crowd that didn’t seem too interested in him, but it didn’t appear to phase Ben in the slightest. “I love coming to Monza every year. The track is amazing with how fast we get to go, so getting to race here on my birthday is quite a privilege. Hopefully we can keep up the pace we’ve had so far in practice and have a good day today.”

With his beaming smile and how tall he was standing, it wasn’t hard to tell that Benedikt had secured pole position by three tenths of a second yesterday.

The truck had now exited the second Lesmo, and was surrounded by tress on both sides on the way down to the Ascari chicane. The warm, bright sunshine dappled through the leaves onto the driver’s faces as they quietly chatted amongst themselves since there were no fans to wave at.

“Definitely nicer than what it was like last year.” Sophie said aloud to no one in particular.

“It’s like home.” Ben said quietly, but with a small smile as he looked up at the trees. Sophie had been referring to the weather, but she had to agree that the parkland in which the circuit was situated was incredibly beautiful.

“So that’s why you left Zürich for the countryside, not enough trees?” Sophie asked, slightly teasing. Ben let out a light laugh and went to reply right as Lise appeared at Sophie’s side with her microphone in hand. She asked about both McLaren’s big anniversary, and Sophie’s latest career milestone. All Sophie felt she could do was put on a warm smile and say as she had done so many times over the weekend of the honour it was to be a McLaren driver, and that while the team was expecting today to be difficult they were still going to work hard to deliver the best result they could.

“How are you such a natural at this stuff?” James asked under his breath once the drivers were off the parade truck and walking back to the paddock.

“Well, when you spend the majority of your career having to defend your right to simply be on the grid, not scoring points suddenly isn’t the worst prospect in the world.” Sophie said with a frown, sounding a lot heavier than she intended. “Sorry I didn’t-”

“It’s fine Soph,” James said, briefly flinging an arm round her shoulders and even flashing a small smile at her. “I’m sure that if you ever take something out on me and mean it, I’ll know about it.”

“I think having Andrew looming over my shoulder the whole weekend has put me on edge.” Sophie finally said under her breath once they had some distance between themselves and their fellow drivers.

“Yeah…” James paused to scratch at a spot on his jaw. “You and me both.”

“Go well today Sophie.” Nico said quickly, appearing at her side out of thin air.

“You too, allez!”

“Allez!” Nico beamed back, fist half raised in the air for good measure, and he squeezed Sophie in a warm side hug before jogging over to the Red Bull energy station with his press officer.

Katie and Richard had been lagging behind their drivers the whole walk over, giving them space to have a conversation just themselves, while Sophie and James found themselves in a semi-comfortable silence while the sun continued to beat down on the circuit.

“I’ll try and give you a tow at the start, like Leena suggested this morning.” James said as they walked back into the motorhome and made for the stairs.

“If I end up in front I’ll do the same for you.” Sophie said without too much thought. As Martin had very plainly put it in the morning briefing, good teamwork was going to be essential today if they wanted to score points. Neither James or Sophie had any kind of problem with that.

“Let’s just hope we don’t end up plum last.” James sighed through gritted teeth as he patted his teammate’s shoulder.

Mark didn’t realise that he had been chewing on his thumbnail until he caught a glimpse of himself on the screen showing the global feed, stood at the back of Sophie’s side of the garage in between Vanessa and Richard wearing a soft grey polo shirt with the McLaren speedmark logo embroidered in white on the left. He quietly scoffed at himself and tucked his thumb into a fist which he gently tapped against his chin instead, as his eyes were fixed on the screen that showed Sophie’s onboard camera as she made her way through the formation lap.

As a mechanic, Monza had never been one of Mark’s favourite tracks purely because of the high chance of carnage at the narrow first chicane – anything from a broken front wing endplate to having a wheel and suspension ripped off the car and the race being over before it got started.

The team’s mechanics took their seats in the garage, having made their rushed return to the pit lane as the cars started to line back up on the grid. All Mark really wanted was for Sophie – and by extension out of the love he still held for his old team – James to make it through the first lap unscathed.

Mark was clenching his fist so tightly that as the start lights began to illuminate, he could feel his skin pressing hard against his gold wedding band.

The start lights went out quickly, but that barely caught anyone off guard as the cars sped out of their grid slots in perfect formation. Carotti and Mitchell both got a tow off Schmitz who had already firmly planted his car on the racing line to have the optimal turn in point for the first corner. It was clever, as it meant the second Red Bull would either have to take to the grass or brake early to stay on the road.

But Mark didn’t care about any of that when the front runners started to brake. It was always the worst concertina effect of the season at Monza, and while Sophie and James made it through cleanly, one of the Haas cars and both Aston Martins came out worse for wear as one went right into the back of the other. Jones was out of the race immediately, while Nichols was able to continue despite dropping to the back of the field with a puncture and no front wing. Curva Grande offered a brief pause before the second chicane, quickly followed by the two Lesmos. James and Sophie were still running in their starting positions, with Sophie staying tucked in her teammate’s slipstream to try and pull a gap on the eleventh placed Alpine behind right before the safety car was brought out.

Mark, Vanessa and Richard all exhaled in relief at the exact same time.

“She’s fine.” Vanessa said, lightly patting Mark’s arm in reassurance. “Why does this never get any easier?” She added in quick succession, and just about managed to take a small sip from her drinks bottle.

“If I ever find out the secret to dealing with it, you’ll be the first to know.” Mark said with a slightly strained chuckle as he pressed his radio headset against his ears to hear the exchange between Sophie and Chris on the radio.

“Remember to keep heat in your tyres for the restart, and James will give you a tow to try and keep Vasquez behind.”

At the mention of Sophie’s teammate, Mark quickly glanced over to the other side of the garage to see if Natasha was alright. As with every race she had attended, she held station next to James’ trainer and like Mark had her eyes fixed on the screens above. He thought about going over for a reassuring word when Mark’s phone buzzed in his pocket, and as he suspected it was a text from Mary asking if Sophie was alright. It must have been so busy at the airport that she hadn’t been able to stop by one of the bars showing the race.

He quickly texted back saying that Sophie was still in tenth place, and that the safety car was nothing to do with her. Mark reluctantly put his phone back in his pocket once he’d hit send, if Mary was busy then she wouldn’t be able to send more than a quick reply.

It hadn’t been the easiest decision to only attend a handful of races together, but with how much money they had put into Sophie’s career they weren’t in a position to be able to take any unpaid time off. And it was better for Sophie to have at least one of her parents in the back of the garage than neither of them.

“Are you alright Mr Knightsbridge?” Richard asked. At some point Mark had started chewing his thumbnail again.

“I’m fine.” He stuffed his hands firmly in his pockets. “And I’ve told you to call me Mark.” He affectionately scolded the press officer, gently nudging him with his elbow and a small smile for good measure.

“Sorry, old habits.”

The race restarted on lap 10, and while Sophie and James had initially pulled away from the Alpine behind, they were both undercut at the first round of pit stops which dropped Sophie out of the points. James tried as hard as he could to stay in Vasquez’s DRS, but it was no use. The McLaren, despite its rather stunning all over papaya vintage livery, just didn’t have the straight line speed to keep up.

Meanwhile up front nothing could phase Schmitz, who after nearly losing the lead at the first corner had went on to build enough of a gap to Carotti behind to retain the lead after his first and only pit stop, while Mitchell was in a permanent scrap to stay in third place ahead of Martinez in the second Ferrari.

There was a loud hiss in the garage on lap 42 when Watkins and Martens banged wheels as they went side by side through the second chicane fighting over fifth, both cars were unscathed until there was a burst of carbon fibre shards at the braking point for the first Lesmo and both cars seemingly had punctures. The incident brought out the virtual safety car, and both McLarens were called in for a fresh set of mediums. It dropped them out of the points, but Mark assumed that Amir’s thought process was with the rest of the grid on old hard tyres it would be easier for Sophie and James to make up places.

It was such a good idea, that about four other cars as well as Watkins and Martens were also called in for fresh tyres.

When the chequered flag fell at the end of lap 53, Schmitz won the race by twelve seconds while James and Sophie came home in eleventh and twelfth, not even close to tenth place.

A wave of disappointment crashed across the garage as mechanics and engineers looked at leach other with a mixture of defeated and resigned expressions. It was a feeling Mark knew well as he pulled his phone back out of his pocket to text Mary and Will the race result while Vanessa and Richard went down to parc fermé to wait for Sophie.

When Sophie finally returned to the garage after being weighed, she looked as glum as everyone else felt. But she still clasped hands and bumped fists with her mechanics and engineers before she handed Vanessa her helmet and made a beeline for Mark.

“Well done sweetheart.” He pulled his daughter into his arms for a tight hug, and kissed the top of her head just in case she needed it. “You did all you could, I’m proud of you.”

“It didn’t feel like it. I really thought Jan was going to get me on that last lap. If James hadn’t given me DRS…” Sophie trailed off with a sigh as she stepped out of the hug and fixed her team cap on top of her head. “I need to get these post-race interviews out of the way.”

“I’ll head back to the motorhome then.” Mark had very briefly contemplated offering to help with the derig of the garage, but when he remembered he was wearing trainers instead of steel toe-capped boots he decided he was probably better off keeping Vanessa company while Sophie went from interviews to the post-race debrief.

The only plus side from the day that Mark could come up with was that at least McLaren were holding onto fifth in the constructors standings by a country mile over Aston Martin. But what good was fifth when the whole garage wanted to be first?

“Hey Sophie!”

Everyone looked over their shoulders to see James call out and even jog to catch up with his teammate. Mark didn’t get to hear the full conversation as Sophie and Richard veered off in the direction of the press pen while Mark and Vanessa walked back into the air conditioned McLaren motorhome.

It was like déjà vu in the media pen for Sophie, as for the second time in seven days she found herself going through the racing driver’s book of excuses trying to explain where her race went wrong. Her only saving grace was that this time it was more to do with the car, and not her.

The debrief wasn’t much better. Almost everyone was down about the fact they’d converted a double top ten on the starting grid into nothing. And the added pressure to at least score points on the team’s anniversary weekend only made the atmosphere in the engineering trucks worse.

The car just simply wasn’t fast enough. Good cornering speed was no use on a circuit that was predominantly fast straights. Leena and Martin tried their best to find parts of the weekend that had gone well, and by the time the briefing was over the air amongst the team felt only marginally lighter.

“We’ve got a week off before we head out to Singapore. So get some rest, have some quality time with your families, and we’ll go again.” Were Martin’s parting words before he dismissed everyone with the best smile he could muster. Chris, who had been sat on Sophie’s left, puffed out his cheeks and let out a long sigh.

“Thank god we don’t do triple headers anymore.” He said with a shake of the head. Adam let out a grunt of agreement from Sophie’s right. Truth be told, she was grateful for a week off from racing as much as everyone else. Even though she was going to be jumping right into heat training with Vanessa to be as ready as she could be for Singapore.

“See you guys on Tuesday.” Sophie said to her engineers and they exchanged pats on the shoulder goodbye. Everyone would be back at the factory next week for more meetings and debriefs to go through the data from the weekend with a fine tooth comb.

When she got up out of her chair after gathering her things, Sophie saw James holding the door open for the last few stragglers. The two teammates ended up being the last to leave.

A part of Sophie felt frustrated. This was the seventh race where James had finished ahead of her on the road. And granted she had finished just over a second behind him, and Sophie knew that if she had managed to get ahead of James, she wouldn’t have managed to finish higher than eleventh either. She was just annoyed that she couldn’t give the team something to cheer for.

“Are you going to be at that sponsor photoshoot tomorrow?” James asked, stopping completely when he’d reached the bottom of the stairs, right in front of the door that led out into the paddock. It was operated by a push button, which was why it hadn’t opened automatically at their presence.

“The one in London?” James gave a small hum in reply. “I think so, I know I have a photoshoot tomorrow. I can double check with Richard if you’d like.”

While Sophie and James had already featured in many a sponsor campaign since January, their photoshoots had mostly been on completely different days due to their schedules, and the fact they lived in different countries. So she wasn’t surprised at James asking to check if for once they were going to be in the same place outside of a circuit or the factory.

“It’s fine, I just wondered if you wanted to grab some food after?” James said as he scratched behind his ear. “It’s alright if you don’t, I won’t be offended.”

Sophie huffed out the smallest of laughs at the implication that hanging out with her teammate completely outside of work was such an awful prospect. Even though Sophie assumed it would be at some ultra-exclusive restaurant which wasn’t really her cup of tea, she did still genuinely like James. And her feelings towards him had thankfully felt less complicated than they had back in Budapest. Because even though they got on well, had the odd mutual interest (unsurprisingly, vintage cars), and that Sophie felt she could trust him completely – something in the back of her mind told her they could never be anything more than teammates.

“That would be really nice.” Sophie said in quick reply.

“Great,” With a bright smile James pressed the button to open the door, and stepped out into the paddock. Sophie fell in step with him almost immediately. “I’ll see where I can book a table, but feel free to bring Vanessa along if you want a wing woman.”

As they crossed over to the motorhome a faint drizzle started to fall from the sky, it took everyone by surprise as they looked up at the faint grey clouds. No rain had been forecast until the late evening.

“See you tomorrow then.” Once inside, James made a couple of long strides over towards the stairs while Sophie headed over toward the table Mark and Vanessa were sitting at. Sophie knew they probably wouldn’t see each other at the airport, with her flying commercial and James on a private jet.

“See you tomorrow!” Sophie called out, and watched her teammate disappear upstairs.

* * *

2023 Italian Grand Prix Classification

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 18pts 3rd - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 15pts 4th - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) - 12pts 5th - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine) - 10pts 6th - Marc Pavard (Mercedes) - 8pts 7th - Erik Braun (Audi) - 6pts 8th - Nico Dumont (Alpha Tauri) - 4pts 9th - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 2pts 10th - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) - 1pt 11th - James Hewitt (McLaren) 12th - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) 13th - Jan Martens (Audi) 14th - Aidan Glover (Williams) 15th - Evan McKinley (Williams) 16th - Antonio Lima (Alpha Tauri) 17th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin) RET - Leon Bauer (Haas) RET - Tadashi Sato (Haas)RET - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) Fastest Lap - Nathan Watkins - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings after Round Thirteen

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (SUI) - 226pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti (ITA) - 189pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins (CAN) - 166pts 4th - Alistair Mitchell (GBR) - 144pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez (ESP) - 128pts (8th - Sophie Knightsbridge (GBR) - 61pts 10th - James Hewitt (GBR) - 45pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull-Honda (AUT) - 370pts 2nd - Ferrari (ITA) - 285pts 3rd - Mercedes-AMG (GER) - 276pts 4th - Alpine-Renault (FRA) - 187pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes (GBR) - 106pts

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters

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racingliners · 6 months

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Life In the Fast Lane Chapter 17 - 2023 Race 12: Turkey

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter: 17/57 Word count: 5.1k Summary: The 2023 season resumes in Istanbul

Thursday 24th August – Istanbul Park

Shorts and sunglasses were the order of the day as the drivers and engineers ventured out for their track walks. Gary and Vanessa had even brought some team umbrellas with them to act as parasols, since the only clouds in the sky were faint wisps that weren’t going to do anything in the way of providing shade from the glowing sun. Sophie and her engineers were only a few steps into the pit lane when Adam winced at the heat that was radiating off the tarmac. Despite being the first race after the summer break, the weather made everyone feel like they were still on holiday.

A huge amount of investment had been put into the track to mark its permanent return to the calendar, with a refurbished pit building as well as the completely new paddock that included permanent team buildings. It was yet another brand new circuit for Sophie, so she had done extra runs in the simulator earlier on in the week to be as prepared as she could be for practice tomorrow.

“Now, oh sh-” Chris went to speak, but ended up having to put a tighter grip on his notebook and pen as a small gust blew across the track when they exited turn 7. “Turn 8 is going to be a problem corner for everyone, not just you, thanks to all the lateral loads on the car.” Chris glanced at the long left hand turn before looking back to his driver. “I know you’ll want to be a bonkers racing driver and try to go round there full throttle, but just take it easy on your first few runs tomorrow, okay?”

Despite the sternness in Chris’ voice, Sophie knew by now that it had nothing to do with her race engineer’s trust that she was able to do her job properly. It came from the unspoken part of Chris’ job description, where he had a sizeable chunk of responsibility to keep his driver safe.

“Will do.” Sophie gave her engineer a firm nod, and scribbled into her own notebook about where her references for her breaking and turn-in points were.

The rest of the lap was straight forward – an extended chicane at turns 9 and 10, the right hand kink of turn 11 separating two long straights, and the left-right-left sequence of the final three corners that led back onto the pit straight. The only shelter they’d had from the sun the whole walk round was the team umbrellas they had all huddled under rather quickly.

Once they were back in the paddock they stopped by one of the food stands they had passed on their way over to the garage. It was for team personnel, journalists, and VIPs alike – Sophie got everyone ice cream while Chris bought a small box of baklava, which they ate on the way over to the team’s assigned hospitality building.

After the stratospheric high of Hungary, McLaren weren’t expecting to be competitive and were running on the assumption that they would be back to having the fourth or fifth fastest car for the race. The engineer’s meeting went on as it had for every single race prior – discussing initial set ups and run plans for FP1 as well as the weather for the weekend, which was set to be warm and dry for the next three days.

Sophie and James were then released to the custody of their press officers for the rest of the day, with Sophie being one of the featured drivers in the press conference as well as the pre-scheduled print and broadcast interviews. By the time she left the media pen with Richard in the late-afternoon Sophie was worried that she wouldn’t have a voice left for the rest of the weekend.

Her mind felt completely frazzled after hours of having to answer the same questions over and over. About history, and the significance of her achievements, and whether or not Sophie really could be F1’s first ever female champion. It left her shoulders feeling heavier than normal on the drive back to the hotel.

All Sophie could think about was that she had to deliver a decent result on Sunday or the press would rip her to shreds.

Some of those worries had went away by the time she met Amy in the hotel restaurant for dinner. Her husband Darren, one of the senior engineers at Alpine, was there alongside their five year old daughter Isla. They mainly traded tales of how they had spent their summer break – Amy and her family had spent a week camping in the Scottish Highlands near Inverness – and Darren gave plenty of recommendations for places to eat and visit for the remaining races of the season. It had been a nice evening, especially since Sophie hadn’t had the time to catch up with them over the Summer as they had initially planned.

“Don’t you worry about the hounds,” Amy said with a wry smile, referring to the hordes of paddock journalists. They said goodnight in the hotel foyer since Sophie’s room was up on the sixth floor while Amy’s room was on the first. “Just give the track hell tomorrow.”

“I’ll try my best.” Sophie said with a small smile, and wasn’t allowed to head for the lift until she got another hug from Isla.

Sophie ended up being alone in the lift and walked down an empty hallway towards her hotel suite. Once inside she flicked on the light switch, hung to do not disturb sign on the outside handle, shut the door behind her, and slid the gold safety chain into place.

Everything was completely silent. Even the plush carpet was thick enough to absorb the sound of Sophie’s footsteps as she walked over to the bedroom and flopped down onto the king size bed, all the while completely unable to shake the dull ache that had hit her the second she had walked into the room.

Sophie wasn’t alone in life of course, she had her family, friends and team mates whom she all loved dearly. But there was something about constantly going to both an empty hotel room and empty flat that had started to carve a small hole in her chest that wouldn’t quite go away. She tried to put it down to the fact that her seat for next year had been in the back of her mind, and that was just bringing other anxieties to the forefront. Becks said that she was working on getting at least a two year contract out of McLaren…

Sophie shook her head, refusing to let her thoughts spiral any further because she knew that it would do her any good, and pulled out her phone to call her parents instead.

Saturday 26th August

Chris rapidly clicked his pen as his gaze flicked between Sophie’s telemetry, the driver tracker and timing screen. It was the last minutes of Q2, and her first run had been ruined by a yellow flag in sector two when one of the Alpha Tauri’s spun round and took forever to rejoin the track, so she only had one run to make it into Q3.

As with every quali lap Chris stayed silent on the radio, and he switched his attention to the on board camera when Sophie made her way through turn 8. Her line wasn’t perfect but it was far from how it looked during her first runs in Friday practice.

The only time Chris held his breath was when Sophie ran ever so slightly wide coming out of turn 10, it looked extremely marginal as to whether or not her lap would be deleted for a track limits infringement. She went to eighth on the leaderboard when she crossed the finish line, one of the last four cars to make their runs, and all Chris could do was hope for the best.

“Good job Sophie,” From his seat on the pit wall it was impossible to ignore not just the sound but the feeling of the cars driving down the main straight at full speed. “We’re safe for the moment, I’ll let you know once all the cars have finished their laps.”

“Copy.”

Out of nowhere Chris’ right leg started rapidly bouncing up and down as he watched the timing screen for any notes from the stewards. By now only one car was left to cross the line, one of the Astons, and Sophie would on paper be into Q3 no matter what lap time they did.

“Shit!” Chris cursed loud enough for Amir, who sat in between him and Paul, to visually flinch. It was either that, or he too had seen the ‘Car 16 (KNI) Lap time deleted for track limits at turn 10’ graphic appear on the timing screen. Chris watched as Sophie dropped down to 15th place, and felt his heart and shoulders sink.

“Am I still through?” Sophie radioed in, according to the driver tracker she was just coming into the second sector.

“I’m sorry Soph, we’re out.” Chris replied with a heavy voice as he jammed his thumb down on the radio button. “Your lap time was deleted for going wide at turn 10. It looked really marginal but…” He intentionally paused, half expecting to be interrupted with a string of swear words but instead was met with silence. “So we’re P15 for tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry guys.” Sophie finally replied, after hitting a hand against the steering wheel. Like every good race engineer, Chris had kept an eye on the on board camera the whole time to ensure that his driver was alright.

He stayed on the pit wall until Sophie turned into the pitlane, and went back into the garage once the last car had driven past. By then Sophie was out of the car and stood by the engineers station talking to Gary. Her brow was furrowed, jaw tightly clenched, and her arms folded across her chest.

“I’m so- argh!” Sophie braced herself against the engineers station with both hands and gave her head a firm shake.

As Chris made his way over toward his driver, Steve, Tommy and Aditya did their best to block the view of the TV camera that had positioned itself at the front of the garage.

“Hey look,” Chris slid his headset off his ears once he was within Sophie’s earshot. He didn’t want her to be teetering on the edge of a downward spiral, so he set his notebook and pen down and put a gentle hand on his driver’s shoulder. “It’s shit, but we can’t change it now. Tomorrow will be a new day, there could still be points on the table for the race.”

Sophie let out a long sigh, ran a hand down her face, and finally pulled her gaze away from the other side of the garage. James was still in his car, since he’d made it into Q3.

“You’re right,” Judging by how she was still holding tension in her shoulders, Sophie wasn’t completely over it, but she seemed to be in a slightly better state to talk to the press in at least. Chris gave a small nod in Richard’s direction, who had been waiting patiently at the back of the garage. “See you in the debrief.”

Chris let his driver go, and quickly turned his attention to getting every scrap of data from Adam and Gary.

“Yeah, it was a hundred percent my fault,” Sophie said for the umpteenth time with a heavy frown as she was shuffled along to the next journalist in the press pen. She had her back to the TV screen that was currently showing Q3, and equal parts did and didn’t want to know how it was going. “A lot of us were caught out on our first runs with the yellow flag but… I should have been more careful with track limits because that was my one chance to get into Q3 and we had the pace to do so…” Sophie swallowed down the urge to huff and just shrugged her shoulders instead. “Hopefully James can get as far up the grid as he can and we’ll both try and get some good points tomorrow.”

Curiosity got the better of Sophie as she looked over her shoulder when she stepped away from the Canal+ reporter to see where James and Nico were on the timing screens. With two and a half minutes left James was in sixth and Nico in tenth. Qualifying was done by the time she got through her last two interviews, James and Nico’s positions hadn’t changed while Carotti had beaten Ben to pole by half a tenth, and Sophie suddenly realised that she should have been keeping an eye out for him on the timing screens too.

Sophie kept her head down as she walked with Richard back through the paddock to the team’s hospitality building, zigzagging through all the TV crews and photographers that were likely all too eager to get a glimpse of how she was handling her poor qualifying result.

“I should probably go back and apologise to the guys in the garage.” Sophie huffed once she was in the air conditioned safety of the McLaren personnel only building.

“Ah,” Richard clapped Sophie on the shoulder and gave it a small squeeze. “So long as you don’t trash the place you’re allowed to be a little grumpy at being knocked out in Q2.” At the sight of a tiny smile on her press officer’s face, Sophie let out a small sigh and returned the gesture. As well as enjoying working with Richard, Sophie really was starting to like being around him too. “But don’t be late for the debrief, engineers are very picky about that.”

“Okay, okay…” Sophie parted ways with her press officer, and even allowed herself half a chuckle at his remark, before she quickly climbed the stars that led to her driver room on the first floor to get changed out of her race suit.

She took in a long deep breath as she went and told herself not to worry about what the press might say, or the plethora of noise on social media – even though it was incredibly difficult to not think about what the team thought of the past hour. She just wanted to do a good job this weekend, in the hopes that it would cement a contract for next year that little bit sooner.

“You good?” Vanessa, who had been waiting for Sophie by her driver room door, asked softly.

“I will be, I think.” Sophie opened the door to her room and took half a step inside.

“Never give up…” Vanessa said out of the blue, a knowing look in her eyes. She looked straight at Sophie, her eyes saying to finish the sentence. Their own little motto for all manner of tough races.

“Never back down.” Sophie said with all the scraps of determination she could muster. It wouldn’t be enough to last the weekend, but it would at least get her through the post-quali debrief.

Sunday 27th August

Race day came with another bright blue sky as James opened the curtains on his hotel suite window just before 7am. The special edition cap the team had made for today, James’ 250th Grand Prix, sat neatly on top of his folded up team shirt on the dresser at the side of the room.

Ignoring the fact that he was barefoot, James slid open the glass doors and walked out onto the balcony, going right up to the railing where he took in a deep lungful of cool morning air and slowly exhaled. He rested his forearms against the railing, and looked out at the city skyline before him. In the distance was the minarets and dome of the Blue Mosque, and even further out was the Bospherus Bridge which would form part of the drive over to the circuit later.

Two hundred and fifty races. There had been brief moments during the early stages of James’ career that ever reaching that number, let alone winning the world championship, had felt like a fever dream. And yet, here he was. There was going to be a small photoshoot for his side of the garage as well as his family who were in attendance, with a pit board made up to mark the occasion. He’d even heard whispers that some of the people from hospitality were going to decorate the place with blue and white balloons to match his helmet colours.

James still loved being a racing driver after all these years, the thrill of a last lap chase, that euphoric feeling when he got everything out of the car and drove a brilliant race. But for the first time James wondered just how many years left he would have to do it. And as he took another deep breath he felt grateful for the air brushing against his skin, and was determined to get everything he could out of the race today. Even if he did just end up finishing where he started.

The front row of the grid was quiet, it always was. There was nothing in front of Benedikt’s car other than the place markers for where the drivers had to stand for the national anthem in about ten minutes time, and the race winner’s trophy on a glossy black plinth. The only thing in Ben’s peripheral vision was Giovanni’s bright red Ferrari sat in the pole position slot, with mechanics buzzing around it for their usual on-grid checks.

Ben took in a deep breath and quickly exhaled, remembering Matt’s words from earlier. That he should put his frustrations over yesterday into beating Carotti off the line, but that he also still needed to think clearly so he didn’t do anything stupid. Edward had geed up the team too much in the morning briefing, and everyone knew it. Having pole position wasn’t essential in Turkey, but like most tracks it was important. No one really understood why Edward had been so peeved, it wasn’t like anyone got points for pole position. Maybe it was just the ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ sized gap that had burrowed underneath his skin.

And it wasn’t that Ben was content with missing out on pole, because he absolutely wasn’t. He just knew that as hard as he tried to, no driver could win everything. If anything Benedikt was trying to use yesterday to do better today, but in his own way. He and Harry had taken the time to compare laps to learn when Ben had lost that pesky half a tenth, and he was determined to make it right today for each one of today’s 58 laps.

Because winning today would get him ever closer to his fourth consecutive title. And maybe if he won the championship before the last race of the season, unlike the last two, it would prove a point that luck had nothing to do with his success. That he was just as good a driver as Giovanni or Nathan or James, maybe even better.

“Shit!” Leena quietly hissed from Martin’s left. While the pit wall canopy was doing a great job at shading everyone from the burning sun, it wasn’t doing much for the ambient temperature. And something on Leena’s screen wasn’t doing much to help with that either.

“The tyres are going off quicker than in practice.” Amir said rapidly, he had already started doing some kind of calculations in his notebook. If James and Sophie’s tyres were degrading quicker than the other cars around them, they would have to kiss their one stop strategy goodbye.

Paul and Chris were instantly on the radio to their drivers and performance engineers, checking to see that if the temperatures Leena was seeing on her screen translated to how much or how little grip Sophie and James had. And while everyone might have been scribbling down frantically, their voices over the radio were still calm and methodical. They were nowhere near crisis point yet, Martin felt safe enough to let the engineers handle it for the time being.

“What if we move Sophie onto the two stop?” Chris asked.

“But then that defeats the point of having an offset strategy to counteract the time we’re losing to the other cars on the straights.” Came the quick and cool reply from Amir.

“She’s losing time right now,” Leena butted in, and gestured to the timing screen with a small tilt of her head. The race was only on lap 10, and both cars had made good starts with James up in fourth and Sophie chasing down eleventh. But Leena was right in that Sophie’s lap times weren’t as good as the cars around her.

There was a period of silence while Leena, Amir and Chris all pondered the available options on the table. For the moment, while he wasn’t completely happy with the state of his tyres, James said on the radio he would be able to manage for the time being.

None of this was ideal of course. In a perfect world McLaren would be running first and second at least five seconds ahead of the next car. But Martin knew that with ten teams fighting over first place, someone had to fill out the midfield. And it hurt seeing the team that he had been a part of for years not be where he felt they deserved, but right now they had to work with what they had. And if that meant aiming for at least a double top ten finish then that was what McLaren were going to do.

Eventually it was agreed to keep Sophie on the one stop for now unless she really started to fall off the proverbial cliff, in which case they would move her onto the two stop.

All while this was happening, Sophie had managed to close up to the back of Dumont and the pair had been scrapping for a couple of laps over eleventh. Thanks to the Alpha Tauri’s worn softs and Sophie’s cornering speed, she set up the pass coming out of the final corner and had taken the place before she broke for turn 1.

“Well done Sophie, Jakobsson’s ahead and he’s been reporting a brake problem the past couple of laps. I know the tyres are rough right now but you can still get him.” Chris said over the radio, cool and calm as ever.

“You can say that the tyres are shit mate.” Amir scoffed from his seat in between the two race engineers. Even Martin couldn’t help but chuckle a little, because he did have a point. A significant chunk of the debrief and post-race analysis was going to be dedicated to what was causing the drop in performance compared to Friday.

“Only myself and the drivers can swear on the broadcast.” Martin finally interjected, with barely a hint of a wry smile, and the engineers very quickly got back to work.

The first round of pit stops came and went over the next couple of laps, and as expected James and Sophie both jumped up the grid order when it became clear that they were the only team running a one-stop strategy. James was set to stop first since he had started on the softs, while Sophie wouldn’t be stopping until at least lap 30, assuming her hard tyres went the distance.

But her lap times fell to three seconds slower than the fastest car, and she made it to lap 25 before Amir and Chris had decided that enough was enough and called Sophie in to pit for a set of mediums. She would have to stop again for another set at around lap 40 to make it to the end of the race, but hopefully the car being a little bit lighter on fuel by then would help.

The more the laps that went by, the further away the celebrations for James at the start of the day felt. And it was hard for Martin to not just see his drivers struggle, but know that all he could really do was sit and watch and hope that any kind of good fortune came their way.

So when the safety car came out for Vasqez’s stricken Alpine the lap immediately after Sophie had made her second stop, Martin knew it was going to be one of those races where he just had to grit his teeth until the chequered flag fell.

When the race got back under way on lap 44, James was back in his starting position of sixth place. And there was a feeling on the pit wall that it would be when and not if he was passed by Martinez in the Ferrari behind. But somehow, likely through sheer determination and willpower on James’ part, the number 12 McLaren stayed ahead of the Ferrari going into turn 1, uphill into turn 2, back downhill through turns 3 to 6, and even in the braking zone into turn 7. By the time James had made his way through the quadruple apex of turn 8, he was almost half a second clear of the Argentine driver.

It was a defensive drive for the ages as nothing Martinez did was able to counteract the scraps of pace James had in the corners or where he positioned his car on the straights. On the last lap there was barely anything between them, but James managed to hold on to sixth place by just over a tenth of a second. No one on the pit wall could quite believe it.

“That was a champions’ drive James, well done! I know that wasn’t how you would have wanted today to go, but we’re all still incredibly proud of you.” Martin said on the radio once Paul had gotten his congratulations out of the way.

Sophie crossed the line in eleventh, about three tenths behind Lima’s Alpha Tauri. Her pace on the mediums had been an improvement compared to earlier on in the race, but that first stint on the hard tyres had caused more damage in terms of lost lap time than anyone on the pit wall had expected.

She was understandably frustrated over the radio, but also apologetic. It was true that had she made it into Q3 yesterday, Sophie may well have finished in the points today – though judging by the troubles both cars had with their tyres, probably not by much. But at least Sophie had been close in the end, and she’d tried with everything she had. That was all Martin would ever ask of his drivers.

“I know today was tough Sophie, we’ve all got a lot of learning to do for next week, but you still did a good job today, well done for making it to the end.”

“Thanks boss.” Came the slightly meek reply as Sophie gave small waves to the crowd on her in lap.

“The press are still going to lay into her.” Leon said with a small frown as he gathered his things from his station and set down his headset. Martin was as always the last one to step down from the pit wall, and very quickly crossed the pit lane to dive into the safety of the garage. He made a beeline for Richard, and fixed the press officer with a stern look. But before Martin could say anything Richard insisted that he would get Sophie through her post-race interviews in one piece.

Martin waited until both cars were safely back in the garage so he could have a quick chat with his drivers before going back to the team hospitality building. James looked both exhausted and relieved, if there had been one more lap he probably would have lost sixth place to the Ferrari. The pair shared a warm smile and congratulatory clap on the shoulder before James followed Katie out of the garage.

By contrast Sophie took her time getting out of the car. But as was the norm, she thanked all her mechanics and engineers for their work over the weekend – as well as apologising for not scoring any points for them. When she was finally ready to leave the garage she walked in close step with Richard, but Martin still managed to catch her attention.

“We’ll discuss where everything went wrong in the debrief, but I meant what I said, you still drove a good race today.” He said with a small, reassuring smile.

Sophie didn’t seem too convinced, but she once again thanked him for his kind words, and followed Richard out of the garage with her head slightly dipped down.

It was then that Martin finally let out a long sigh of relief. He slid his radio headset off his ears and quickly spoke to Steve and Barry to thank both crews of mechanics for their efforts over the weekend, before he finally made his way out of the garage to let them get started with the derig. This time next week they would be racing in Monza, and because of their poor straight line speed the team knew it would be another difficult race, which just so happened to co-inside with their 60th anniversary.

Martin took in a deep breath as he hung up his headset in the large rack at the main entrance to the garage, and exhaled as he walked out into the bright sunshine putting on the bravest face he could muster. Music was already blaring out of the Red Bull garage next door. Schmitz hadn’t just won the race, but led the whole way and got the fastest lap to boot. Edward Morden was likely swanning about the paddock somewhere with a very smug grin on his face, while Martin was likely about to have a less than pleasant phone call with Andrew.

Everyone at McLaren knew that the second half of the season was going to be at best a mixed bag of performances, since development back at the factory was starting to be predominantly focused on the 2024 car, but no one had expected today’s dose of reality to be quite so cold.

Yet Martin buried his worry. There was every chance that today’s woes had been caused by something as simple as the car’s set up not being in the right performance window, so he greeted all of his colleagues with a small but brave smile. Because he knew his team wouldn’t give up so easily. They would pick themselves up, brush themselves down, and go again.

* * *

2023 Turkish Grand Prix Classification

1st - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 25pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 18pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 15pts 4th - Marc Pavard (Mercedes) - 12pts 5th - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 10pts 6th - James Hewitt (McLaren) - 8pts 7th - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) - 6pts 8th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin) - 4pts 9th - Erik Braun (Audi) - 2pts 10th - Antonio Lima (Alpha Tauri) - 1pt 11th - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) 12th - Nico Dumont (Alpha Tauri) 13th - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) 14th - Tadashi Sato (Haas) 15th - Evan McKinley (Williams) 16th - Jan Martens (Audi) 17th - Leon Bauer (Haas) 18th - Aidan Glover (Williams) RET - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) RET - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine) Fastest Lap - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings After Round Twelve

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz - 201pts 2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 171pts 3rd - Nathan Watkins - 163pts 4th - Alistair Mitchell - 129pts 5th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 127pts (8th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 61pts 10th - James Hewitt - 45pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull Racing-Honda - 330pts 2nd - Mercedes AMG - 265pts 3rd - Ferrari - 255pts 4th - Alpine-Renault - 176pts 5th - McLaren-Mercedes - 106pts

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters #I did it besties; I got through my writers block 😭🙌

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racingliners · 7 months

Text

Life In The Fast Lane Chapter 16 - R&R

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 16/57 Word count: 4.1k Summary: The teams and drivers get some much needed time off over F1's summer break

Thursday 17th August – Zürich, Switzerland

Lake Zürich spanned for miles. The endless deep blue water was perfectly still as a gentle breeze blew across the surface, which was more than welcome considering how warm it was. The park Sophie and Vanessa decided to have lunch at was busy, but not massively crowded. They had stopped at a deli and bakery on the way over, and had enough room to lay out a large picnic blanket and lounge in the warm sunshine with their bikes set over to the side on the grass.

They were in the middle of a week-long training camp Vanessa had organised, during F1’s mandatory two week long summer shutdown. She had picked Switzerland both for the good terrain for mountain biking, altitude training, and for the scenery on their one day off – since it was her 25th birthday. Sophie and Vanessa had done some light cycling around town, going between museums and other places of tourist interest, before stopping for their lakeside picnic lunch.

“Has Nico heard anything about the Red Bull seat yet?” Vanessa asked as she brushed some sandwich crumbs off her hands. Speculation had been rife since Silverstone over who would get Mitchell’s seat at Red Bull, though Nico was the assumed choice by most of the paddock journalists since the only other Red Bull junior on the grid was his rookie team mate.

“Nope,” Sophie said with a small sigh. “Because Nico’s part of the Red Bull programme it’s all done internally so… He’ll find out when he finds out.” She shrugged. As much as Sophie wanted Nico to get the Red Bull seat, she deliberately hadn’t spoken to him about it much – not wanting to add any additional pressure he felt about the whole thing. All Sophie had said to him after the Silverstone press day was that Edward Morden would have been stupid not to sign Nico, and that she would be there for him no matter what happened.

“Huh,” Vanessa scoffed, and took off her sunglasses to peer at something over to the left. “Speaking of Red Bull drivers,” She gestured to a spot on the path at the edge of the park. Sophie followed Vanessa’s eye line and spotted two very familiar figures dressed in running shorts and t-shirts.

“Well Ben and Matt do live here.” Though Sophie had to admit it was a funny coincidence as Vanessa pulled out her phone, likely to send Matt a text instead of just yelling across the busy park. A few seconds later the two men stopped jogging as Matt took his phone out of his pocket, and spotted Sophie and Vanessa in a matter of seconds. He jogged over towards them with Benedikt in tow.

“Happy birthday!” Matt called out once he was close enough for Sophie and Vanessa to hear, and when he was within reach he gave his friend a massive hug and kiss on the cheek.

“Happy Birthday Vanessa.” Ben said with a warm smile once he’d joined them.

“Thank you,” Vanessa grinned, before her attention quickly turned to Matt looking as if he was going to help himself to a blueberry tart. “Oh absolutely not!” She swiped the pasty out of Matt’s grasp, and even took a bite out of it for good measure. Sophie couldn’t help but burst out laughing at the look on Matt’s face.

“You’re welcome to join us,” She said to Benedikt in-between giggles. “But uh… keep your distance from the cakes.”

“I’d love to but we still have 5k to run,” Ben smirked and scratched along his jaw. “So, I take it you have a reservation at one of the really nice restaurants for dinner?”

“I thought I did,” Sophie huffed. “But I rang ten minutes ago to double check and apparently there was no record of it.” She felt awful about it, for multiple reasons. It hadn’t been a surprise, because Vanessa hated surprise parties, but Sophie still felt disappointed that she wouldn’t be able to organise something for her friend’s birthday. Especially when they were celebrating away from home (although, as Vanessa had reminded her, she’d had an early birthday dinner with all her family last week).

“I wish I could invite you over, but we’re in the middle of getting our new kitchen installed.” Matt frowned and scratched the back of his head, while Benedikt looked deep in thought. He stared at a tuft of grass with a furrowed brow for all of two seconds.

“Why don’t we all have dinner at my place?” Ben asked, a slight twinge of nerves in his voice as he bounced up and down on his toes. “I promise I’m not a terrible cook.” He added with a shy laugh.

Sophie looked to Vanessa, who mulled over the offer for a few moments.

“That would be ridiculously nice of you Ben.” She said, flicking her long blonde ponytail off her shoulder. After Benedikt tried and failed to explain the directions to his place, Matt interjected and said he would be happy to give Sophie and Vanessa a lift over.

The two pairs parted ways with bright grins, more well wishes and jokes about what to wear. Vanessa asked if they really did have to dress up and wear something nice as her and Sophie walked alongside their bikes out of the park.

“Nah, Ben’s not like that.” Sophie said with a shake of the head. Whenever she had been him outside of the paddock had been on travel days. But with all the conversations they’d had, he didn’t seem like the kind of person who would set a dress code for a casual dinner with friends.

Matt picked Vanessa and Sophie up from their hotel just before quarter to six. His girlfriend Rachel sat in the front passenger seat, all of them were dressed in jeans and t-shirts or blouses, and she spent the whole time trading stories with Vanessa on the drive over to Benedikt’s house.

“…so that’s why you refuse to drink tequila.” Rachel looked at her boyfriend with a wide grin as Matt’s face turned bright pink. She turned round to grin at Vanessa, and lamented that they hadn’t met sooner.

Once they had turned off the motorway, Benedikt’s house was a further five minute drive down a single track road partially lined with trees. When it came into view both Sophie and Vanessa tried hard not to audibly gawk at it. It wasn’t the sprawling mansion Vanessa had joked about earlier in the day, but a large two storey building that looked like a hybrid of a chalet and a farmhouse.

The exterior was a mixture of pale grey bricks, white stonewash and honey coloured wood panelling, with deep grey tiles lining the gable roof that matched the dark window and doorframes. A balcony was also encased in the eaves on the left side, which Sophie assumed was attached to the main bedroom. As she stepped out of the car and collected the bottles of pear cider she’d brought with her, fine gravel crunched underneath her feet, and a warm breeze rustled through the leaves of some deciduous trees that guarded the house. A small 4x4, that Sophie assumed was Ben’s car, was parked near the front door.

Rachel collected a cakebox from the boot, and joked that the house was even nicer inside.

The front door opened to a large porch with more wood panelled walls that had hallways going to the left and right ends of the house, doors leading to other rooms and a wooden staircase that went up to the first floor. Everyone took off their shoes and placed them on a mostly empty shoe rack that prior to their arrival only had a few different pairs of trainers and one pair of hiking boots in a small, neat line. The light wooden floor felt slightly cool through the fabric of Sophie’s socks as her and Vanessa followed Matt into the living room, while Rachel took the cake and cider through to the kitchen.

“Oh my god I am never leaving,” Vanessa gawked when she saw the view of the rolling hills and distant mountains through the large windows, and a glass door that led out onto a furnished terrace.

The wooden floor had been swapped for a plush light grey carpet, but the wood panelling remained on the front wall, with the others painted a muted blue. There was a fireplace with a stone hearth that sat in front of a wood and glass coffee table and a very comfortable looking grey sofa and matching armchairs. A few book cases and pictures lined the walls, one of which was a beautiful watercolour painting that Sophie could not take her eyes away from. It was one of Benedikt’s Red Bulls in a deep blue surrounded by a grey sky and the even darker tarmac of a race track.

“One of my school friends did that,” Ben said appearing at Sophie’s side out of nowhere, giving her a small fright in the process. “She gave it to me yesterday actually, it’s from when I won in Germany.” Now that he’d said that, all the grey in the painting made perfect sense. Sophie felt that if she looked at the paining for long enough, she’d be back at a soaking wet Nürburgring. “And hi.” His smile quickly turned into a bright grin.

“Hi,” Sophie let out a shy laugh as she accepted a brief but warm hug from Benedikt. His hair was only styled to the point where it had been loosely gelled up out of his eyes, and he was dressed almost exactly as Sophie had expected – in dark jeans and a forest green shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows and the top two buttons undone. “Thanks so much for having us over.”

“Don’t mention it! Sit down, food won’t be that long,” He gestured to the sofa where Vanessa and Matt had already planted themselves, it was even more comfortable than it looked. “Rachel offered to bring through some water, can I get you anything else?”

Everyone said that water would be fine, and as Ben left to dive back into the kitchen Sophie found herself fixated on the view. With it being a summer evening, the sun wasn’t close to thinking about setting, which left the sky a brilliant blue and the surrounding hills and trees a deep, lush green dotted with small flowers in varying colours, and the distant mountains a pale grey. Sophie could see why Ben never left home to join the Monaco crowd. Like most of the views she’d seen over the past week, it took her breath away.

The dining room had even more windows showcasing the outdoor view, and was decorated in a similar colour scheme to the living room with a hardwood dining table in the centre. Fresh pale pink flowers sat in small glass vases set down the centre of the table, and Benedikt had even gone to the effort of making small place cards.

Sophie and Vanessa were sat on one side of the table, with Ben, Matt and Rachel on the other. As Vanessa poured herself a fresh glass of water Benedikt and Matt walked in carrying bowls of soup and a basket of bread rolls still warm from the oven.

“I have to confess to buying the bread from a bakery, but I promise the soup is handmade.” Ben said with a shy smile as he was the last to sit down. And credit where credit was due the carrot soup was delicious.

The whole dinner was spent with everyone exchanging university or junior formula stories, some had been told many times, and others were completely brand new. At some point Sophie noticed that Benedikt and Matt’s accents both sounded slightly thicker than normal as they spoke. As if being back home, or in Matt’s case close enough to his native Austria, made them both sound a little more like themselves.

“Wait, wait…” Ben leaned back in his chair as he took Sophie’s most recent words in complete and utter surprise. “You were offered a spot on the Red Bull junior programme… and you turned it down?!”

“Yep,” Sophie paused to finish the last of her cider, that someone had the foresight to chill in the fridge before serving. Everyone had long since finished the pea and ham risotto main course and were trading more tales over the last of the bakery bread. “Dad didn’t want to slight the few sponsors we had in case things didn’t work out, and he did not trust the guy who was running things at the time. Still, it all worked out in the end, thankfully.”

“And it’s a good thing too. Because if you had joined the Red Bull programme, you would likely be fighting it out with Nico to be Ben’s team mate next year.” Vanessa added, which caused both Sophie and Benedikt to grimace and share a slightly awkward glance across the table.

Matt had the good idea to quickly change the subject by making everyone teas and coffee while Rachel brought through the birthday cake. A Sachertorte, made by herself in the patisserie she worked at in Zürich.

Everyone sang Vanessa happy birthday, half in English and half in German, and she cut into the cake on the last note. Matt explained, entirely for Sophie’s benefit, that it was an Austrian cake that Vanessa had tried to bake for his birthday during their first year at university. It was also the same cake she had searched high and low for during the Austrian Grand Prix weekend – but had sadly been unsuccessful. It was made entirely of chocolate apart from the apricot jam that separated the two cake layers, and after only one forkful Vanessa said it was the best birthday cake she’d ever had.

The conversation turned to Sophie and Vanessa’s plans for their remaining two days in Switzerland, which ended up in more hiking and bike trail recommendations than they would have time for. Ben joked as he started to gather up the empty plates that Sophie and Vanessa would simply have to come back during the Winter to see them all.

“I’ll give you a hand.” Sophie collected the remaining crockery and followed Benedikt into the kitchen, and closed the door behind her with her foot. “Sorry, I just thought Matt and Vanessa could use the time to catch up just by themselves.”

“Ah,” Ben paused as he set the dirty dishes down on the worktop. “I guess with all the time they take to run after us on race weekends…”

“…they don’t have much time to see each other.” Sophie added, and the two drivers shared a knowing smile.

“Another tea?”

“That’d be lovely, thanks” Sophie watched as Benedikt set the kettle to boil before busying himself with putting the dishes in the dishwasher.

The kitchen was large, with both counters and an island in the middle of the room. Décor wise it was almost all stone and tiles – though the blue and grey theme remained with the navy cupboards and granite worktops. At the side of the room sat a small wooden breakfast table near the back door that lead out into a large garden.

“I hope you didn’t mind me bringing alcohol-free cider, I wasn’t sure if you drank much or not. Plus Matt was driving.” Sophie said instead of asking more about the house. While it dwarfed her London flat in more ways than one, she didn’t feel intimidated by it. If anything, she felt that it matched Benedikt perfectly, it was almost impossible to tell that Zürich was his actual hometown with how comfortable he looked in the countryside.

“It’s fine, I don’t really! Wine I don’t mind if it’s light, but I can’t stand beer… that’s probably down to my Swiss genes.” He chuckled with a bright grin.

Sophie had always wondered if Ben found it hard racing under one flag despite having dual citizenship. After hearing the story of how he’d tossed a coin to decide which racing licence to compete under because of how much the decision had been weighing on him, she didn’t want to grill him too much about it.

“There’s a small greenhouse and some raised beds at the bottom of the garden. My parents look after them, I just try and remember to water things when they tell me to. And I guess it gives them an excuse to visit.” Ben explained, as he caught Sophie’s gaze drifting out of one of the windows.

The kettle boiled, cutting off the conversation as Benedikt went to busy himself with making drinks.

“One sugar?” He asked, and gave a small self-assuring nod when Sophie said yes. “I thought so, I just wanted to double check.”

Benedikt gestured for Sophie to sit down at the kitchen island as he brought over their steaming mugs of tea, and he gently set them down on the granite surface.

“I’m afraid I can’t take any credit for the décor, that was all my ex-girlfriend.” Ben said with an awkward laugh as he blew over the top of his mug. “I’m alright at helmet designs, but not much else.”

“I’m terrible at both,” Sophie huffed. “I’m pretty sure my brother has all the creative genes in the family.”

“How is he?”

“Good! He’s been spending a lot of time at Knockhill before he goes back to uni to start his second year. He managed to get a work placement there in the Spring. How’s yours?”

“Nick? He’s fine, he started his final year of high school this week,” Sophie was surprised to learn that her and Ben’s brothers were only a couple of years apart in age, and that Benedikt had correctly remembered that Will was studying photography. Their conversation paused as loud laughter filtered through the wall separating them from the dining room.

“It was really nice of you to go to so much effort.”

“Ack, well… twenty five is a big birthday, plus I don’t get to have people round like this very often. Normally I’m the one going to friends’ houses so…” He trailed off with a small shrug.

“Well, I owe you one.” Sophie huffed. Despite the restaurant booking being a minor disaster, she was glad in the end about how the day had unfolded. And that her and Ben were friends.

“Speaking of us owing each other things…” Ben paused as he got up from his seat, and walked over to a jacket that was slung over one of the chairs at the breakfast table. He pulled a leather wallet out from one of the pockets. “I believe this is yours.” He took out a crisp ten pound note that had to have been fresh from a bureau de change, and held it out to a slightly confused Sophie.

“A tenner? For what?”

“That silly bet we made in Silverstone, about which one of us would do better in Hungary.” Benedikt blushed as he turned to put his wallet away. “And, well, you did win.”

“Oh that!” Sophie exclaimed as she looked at the bank note in bewilderment. “Honestly I thought you were joking.”

“Well, we shook hands on it. I like to be a man of my word.” Ben said as he sat back down, and slid the note across the worktop.

Sophie looked into Ben’s eyes, a dusty cobalt blue encased in a ring of navy and small speckles of silver that she noticed for the first time, and saw a familiar look of sincerity.

“You’re going to insist aren’t you?”

“Yes, I am.” The two drivers laughed as Sophie pocketed the money and shook her head. “Us racing drivers really are stubborn.”

“That’s why we’re so good at our jobs!” Benedikt grinned, and took another long sip of his tea.

They talked more about their families – Ben’s father Roger still worked as a physics teacher at Ben’s old high school while his mother Anna worked part-time at a florist (which was where the flowers on the dining table had come from); and then there was Julian who was doing well in his rookie F2 season, and Mark who was being kept busy with work at his garage.

“And you Mum works at Edinburgh Airport, right?” Ben asked as he took their now empty mugs over to the sink.

"Yes, she’s the Senior Operations Manager for British Airways." Sophie said with a small but proud smile.

"Wait so...she runs the whole airport?!"

"No, she oversees everything BA do basically. Makes sure everyone’s schedules are in order, flights are running on time, if there’s any major problems that needs dealt with and so on."

"Ah,” Benedikt paused as he leaned against the counter. “So the Knightsbridge women are all quite fearless then?" He asked with a small smile.

Sophie blushed, and briefly looked down at her hands. "Something like that.”

It was almost nine o’clock by the time Matt said they had to head back to Zürich. Sophie and Vanessa couldn’t thank Ben enough for the wonderful evening they’d had, and both gave him a proper hug goodbye. He wished Sophie and Vanessa a safe flight home on Sunday morning, and that he looked forward to seeing them both in Istanbul for the next race.

“We should run into each other more often, this was really nice.” Ben said as he walked with Sophie over to Matt’s car.

“Yeah, it was.” With a small sigh Sophie took one last look at Benedikt’s house. “Let me know if you’re ever in or near London, it would be nice to have you over.”

“I’d like that a lot,” He paused and shook his head. “I still can’t believe how we’re almost the same age and yet I never raced against you once or met you before now.”

“Better late than never.” Sophie grinned. Ben went to say something else when Matt interjected from the drivers’ seat that he would like to get home before 10pm. So Sophie and Benedikt said goodnight one last time before Sophie hopped into the rear of the car, and clipped in her seatbelt as Matt started the long drive back to the city.

“Does Ben always go to so much effort?” Vanessa asked, after joking that she could tick off having dinner at a millionaire’s house off her bucket list.

“For friends? Absolutely.” Matt said as he broke for the junction that led back onto the main road.

For whatever reason, Sophie looked out of the rear window, even though it was now night time and Ben’s house was already far from view. She’d had such a nice evening, that a part of her would have been more than happy to see Benedikt again outside of a racetrack.

Sunday 20th August – Monte Carlo, Monaco

James tilted his head back as he sat on his small apartment balcony to get the full warmth of the morning sun on his face. His first cup of tea of the day sat steaming in a plain white mug on the small glass coffee table he’d measured three times before buying to make absolutely sure it would fit in the tiny outdoor space. While the balcony was never going to serve much more than a place for a solitary early morning or late night drink, the view of the sea almost always made up for it.

It was the last day of the summer break, and James planned on making the most of it by doing almost nothing since he was on one of the early morning flights to the UK to start prep for the next race in Turkey in a week’s time.

The down time had as always been good for James to clear his head of any and all niggles he’d carried during the first half of the season. He’d accepted that the second half probably wasn’t going to be much better than the first in terms of car performance, and that it was going to be a case of getting through the races with gritted teeth in the hope that all the development work now going into next year’s car was going to pay off.

And then, there was his team mate. Whom James was equal parts looking forward to and almost dreading to see again. It wasn’t that he’d suddenly resented Sophie over the break, James was concerned that he had no choice but to keep his feelings in check from now until November. Far too many things were reliant on their personal and professional relationships staying just as they were.

Slowly, James sipped away at his tea as he watched the sails of small boats drift across the Med, before he stood up and decided that his most pressing concern of the day was going to be deciding what he would have for breakfast.

#LITFL Chapters #Life In The Fast Lane #my writing

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racingliners · 8 months

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Life In the Fast Lane Chapter 15 - Celebrations

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 15/57 Word count: 5.8k Summary: History made, records broken, and the champagne on ice

Sunday 30th July – Hungaroring, Budapest

It was much quieter inside the pit building. The cheers from outside barely drifted through the thick walls creating a muffled white noise. It meant that Sophie had a few blissful seconds for the past two hours to sink in as her feet walked the familiar route to the cooldown room on automatic pilot, where Nathan, Benedikt and Chris were already chatting away.

“Ah there she is, congratulations!” Ben called out as Sophie walked in. She smiled and said thank you as she set her helmet down on the table at the side of the room while Nathan walked over to shake Sophie’s hand and clap her on the shoulder.

“Congrats again, great race.” He said with a warm smile.

“Thanks,” Sophie grinned back. “You too.”

“They just replayed your overtake on the screen, it was brilliant!” Benedikt walked over and clasped Sophie’s hand, and pulled her in for a warm one-armed hug. “Hopefully today’s the first of many.”

“But still leaving some wins for you I assume?” Sophie teased. Benedikt joked that they could split the remaining races between them fifty-fifty, which Nathan very loudly objected to. As the two drivers mock-bickered Sophie finally got to properly hug Chris, who was there as the constructors representative, round the shoulders.

“Sorry if I ruined everyone’s blood pressure.” Sophie huffed, and quickly towelled down her face before downing half a bottle of water.

“After China I think we’re all used to it.” Chris joked with a wry smile as he carefully handed over Sophie’s winner’s cap. It was exactly the same as her third place cap from Shanghai, except for the 1st that sat above the Hungarian flag embroidered in yellow thread.

“I really did it,” She said with a breathy sigh as she brushed her thumb across the embroidered laurel wreaths before gently fixing the cap on her head. Sophie out a long, shaky breath and leaned on the table as her knees started to buckle, and Chris rested a supportive hand on her shoulder.

“Enjoy it, okay?”

All Sophie could do was nod as tears started to pool in her eyes as the realisation and weight of what she’d just achieved finally started to sink in. She was the first woman in all of F1’s seventy three years to win a race, with the same team her Dad had once worked for. It felt almost dream-like and completely overwhelming all at the same time, as suddenly the drivers were given the signal to head out one by one onto the podium.

Sophie and Chris clapped each other on the shoulder and quickly made some last minute checks on the other’s appearance. Sophie smoothed down the collar of Chris’ team polo shirt while Chris fixed the Velcro neck strap at the top of Sophie’s overalls. With a final nod, as the podium announcer shouted Sophie’s name to the loudest noise she’d ever heard, the two colleagues walked out onto the podium together.

The cheers of the crowd plus the mechanics and engineers below formed a wall of noise hitting Sophie at full force as she ran to the very front of the podium to see her team and family again. James had appeared and was stood at the front with Vanessa and Richard, he shouted something but Sophie couldn’t quite make anything out past the bright smile on his face. She turned to wave at the crowd, and beamed at the few British flags that were dotted around the mass of spectators before she stepped up to the top step of the podium and removed her cap for the British anthem.

Sophie tried to take in everything at once. The physical feeling of standing on the top step of the podium for the first time since her last F2 win, the sun on her face, the gentle breeze, the sound of her mechanics singing along, even though they changed the words to ‘send her victorious’ – which they all belted out at the top of their lungs. It made Sophie smile through the fresh tears on her face. She mouthed an ‘I love you’ to her family as the anthem ended and she fixed her winners cap back onto her head and quickly wiped her tears away, as the FIA President Alonzo Garcia of all people was the one to approach Sophie with the winner’s trophy.

It was styled after a traditional Hungarian vase, with a blue floral design painted on in watercolour and metallic gold accents. Sophie wasn’t sure if it was made out of porcelain or just made to look like it until she held it in her hands. Suddenly her greatest concern was not dropping it.

Alonzo gave Sophie a firm handshake, and said congratulations before stepping aside once he was happy Sophie had a firm grip on the trophy. She quickly kissed it before lifting it up as high as she dared for hear team to see – which got an almighty roar from them and the crowd.

The constructors trophy was a large ceramic plate with lace-like trim and the same watercolour details, only it had an outline of the track painted in gold in the middle. Chris had the biggest smile Sophie had ever seen on his face as he lifted the trophy into the air. By comparison Nathan and Benedikt were more modest in their celebrations. And Sophie was far too distracted by the emotions of the day and applauding for everyone else that she didn’t notice the two drivers exchange a look as they they picked up their champagne bottles until the cold spray was dousing her from both sides.

Truthfully she should have known it was coming, and poor Chris hadn’t been left unscathed either as Ben and Nathan quickly turned their attention to the startled engineer. Sophie quickly wiped her eyes and popped the cork of her own bottle and sprayed as much champagne as she could over Nathan and Benedikt before the three of them called it a day, and clinked their bottles together. After each taking a sip of champagne the quartet stepped back up onto the podium for the winners picture. There was some jostling of places as Nathan insisted that Chris should be next to his driver, and Sophie exchanged one last clap on the shoulder with her engineer before he had to leave.

A teary-eyed Amy conducted the podium interviews. While broadcasting impartiality meant that she couldn’t hug Sophie on the podium, she did at least give Sophie a squeeze around the shoulders and say how proud she was before she asked the crowd to give the drivers another massive cheer.

Sophie barely managed to string a sentence together thanks to the lump in her throat. She just about managed to repeat everything she’d said over the radio, thanking everyone at McLaren both for giving her a chance this year and for their hard work. Saying how much she loved and was grateful for her family and Vanessa’s support. That she would try to remember this day for the rest of her life.

Nathan and Benedikt’s comments were practically identical. They both said it was Sophie’s day, that she’d driven an incredible race, and that she had every right to be standing on the podium as they did.

Back in the cool down room, Amy finally managed to give Sophie a hug before she had to dash back to the paddock, and Annika, Matt, Nathan’s press officer Marika and trainer Carlos all congratulated Sophie on her win. She thanked all of them with a beaming grin, before making a beeline for Vanessa and Richard. Sophie just about managed to set her trophy down before Richard almost crushed her in a colossal bear hug.

“Well done mate.” Sophie didn’t need to look up to see the grin on her press officer’s face.

“I am so proud of you,” Vanessa sniffled as Sophie stepped out of Richard’s hug and turned to face her trainer. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” The two women pulled each other in for a tight hug while Richard asked Annika if she could take a picture of the McLaren trio with the winner’s trophy, and Nathan and Benedikt looked at each other as if they’d had the same idea at the same time.

“Can you take one of the three of us as well?” Nathan asked.

“With the trophies.” Ben added.

Annika took both pictures in quick succession, and just about managed to squeeze in one of all the personal trainers together with the trophies before the press officers all had to take their drivers down to the post-race press conference. It was a long walk through the mass of internal corridors that felt like it was never ending, and part-way along Nathan quickly pulled Sophie aside and they slowed to a good few paces behind the group.

“I don’t know how much Richard or McLaren have kept from you… but there’s been some journalists trying to pit us against each other over the past few weeks.” Nathan said in a quiet voice with a heavy frown and a hint of disappointment in his deep brown eyes.

“Yeah, I heard,” Sophie shrugged with a small sigh. “I think McLaren have been trying to ignore it in the hope people find something more newsworthy to write about.”

Nathan let out a small hum. The fact that he’d left McLaren at the perfect time right before their dip in form had been noted by more than a few pundits. That and with Sophie effectively being hired as his replacement, she could see why some of the tabloids were all too happy to say things that weren’t true. And while Sophie didn’t say it, both her and McLaren were aware of Nathan’s and Mercedes’ efforts to quash any rumours of a rift. When Nathan spoke about Sophie in the press it was always with glowing respect, something she always tried her upmost to return whenever she could.

“I just want you to know that I’m having absolutely nothing to do with it. And I’m actually really glad we got to have a podium together.”

Sophie briefly thought back to Canada, when Nathan had went out of his way to introduce his parents to Sophie’s Dad while also saying that if any of them needed anything, all they had to do was ask.

“Me too.” She gave Nathan a warm smile and quickly reached out to put a friendly hand on his shoulder. “McLaren still have your title winning cars on the boulevard at the factory you know.”

“I should hope so!” Nathan grinned, squeezed Sophie shoulder in return, and the two drivers hastily caught up with their press officers who had finally reached the press conference room.

As Sophie sat down in the middle seat of the long black table, she saw Lee Howard give her a small thumbs up as he mouthed ‘well done’ before he continued to scribble in his notebook. It was standing room only in the press conference, accompanied by a constant clicking of camera shutters from a very large group of photographers.

“I never got a reception like this after my first win.” Benedikt huffed in exaggerated mock disappointment.

“You have three titles dude, come on.” Nathan reached past Sophie to give the Red Bull driver a playful shove and the three of them all laughed as the photographers continued to snap away. The more overwhelming of Sophie’s emotions had subsided, and she now felt borderline giddy and just couldn’t stop smiling while her, Benedikt and Nathan made more small talk about the race.

Eventually Lee got the signal in his earpiece to start the press conference. As the race winner, Sophie got to answer the first question.

“How does it feel to be the most successful female F1 driver of all time?”

The weight of the question almost physically knocked Sophie back, and she briefly felt overwhelmed again, until a small but significant statistic popped into her mind.

“Well actually,” She said with a small smirk. “I still need to pass Lella Lombardi’s number of race starts. So you can ask me again after that.” A quiet chuckle rang round the room as Sophie took a small sip from her drinks bottle. While some journalists would have argued that Sophie was already F1’s most successful female driver even with three fewer race starts, in her mind she was happy for Lombardi to hold onto that record for just a little bit longer.

Sophie was set to match Lombardi’s thirteen race starts in Monza, all things being well, which was rather fitting considering she was Italian. She made a mental note to hopefully remember to get in touch with Max about an addition she wanted to make to her helmet design for the Italian Grand Prix. Truthfully, she had been trying to not think about it too much, but she realised there and then that she just had to make a tribute of some kind past words in a social media post.

“Question for all the drivers,” The next journalist asked. “How does it feel to have been on the podium of such a historic race?”

All three of them huffed out a puff of air, and looked at each other before Sophie went first. She spoke about how proud she was to be able to share the podium not just with two world champions, but also incredibly talented drivers – and good people.

Nathan gave a very heartfelt speech about the importance of representation in F1. About how he and Sophie were the result of efforts by Lewis Hamilton and Susie Wolff to improve diversity in the sport both on and off the track. And that it was important for people to not just see himself and Sophie compete in F1 – but to be successful too.

Benedikt just gave a small smile, and said that it was a privilege for him to be the driver that got to share the podium with Nathan and Sophie today.

Some athletes said sportsmanlike things because it was the right thing to do and their teams and press officers wouldn’t have it any other way. But others, like Nathan and Ben, said it because they genuinely meant and believed it. Because they respected Sophie and had done since day one. And truthfully, that was all she wanted. To be seen by her fellow drivers and accepted as one of the group.

No us and her, just us.

As they had done in Shanghai, the whole team had gathered in front of the McLaren garage for the celebratory team picture. Everyone was excitedly chatting away or taking selfies with the ‘Sophie P1’ pit board that stood front and centre while they waited for her to come back from the press pen. James watched as his Mum carried out her self-appointed ‘emotional support for fellow parents of a racing driver’ duties (her words). All Natasha had done was give all the Knightsbridge’s a big hug, a soothing pat on the back if she’d felt it had been necessary, and well wishes of congratulations on a day that James knew he wouldn’t forget.

The sheer eruption of noise that had come out of the garage alone when Sophie crossed the line would be burned into his memory forever.

All of Sophie’s engineers and mechanics were beside themselves as they had a picture taken with the winner’s trophy. Steve was very reluctant to let it go when Leon asked for it, but the number one mechanic eventually relented, and watched as Leon carried it back to the space that had been set aside for Sophie, her family, plus Richard and Vanessa.

“God I hope I can stop crying for five minutes.” Vanessa huffed as she wiped her eyes.

“On today of all days I think it’s allowed.” James said as he patted her shoulder. “I’m pretty sure Mike cried more when I won the title in 2018 than when he got married!”

“Oh piss off!” Came the distant jibe from James’ trainer. Vanessa just shook her head and laughed.

The team’s head of hospitality emerged from the garage, and dashed over to Leon and Martin looking more than a little relieved. The team been trying for the past hour to find somewhere available to celebrate Sophie’s win properly, since everyone was flying home tomorrow. Judging by the look on Lucy’s face – she’d managed to find a venue.

Sophie and Richard finally returned from the press pen ten minutes later. They clearly hadn’t had time to stop by the motorhome since Sophie was still in her race suit with her hair twisted in its French braid, though a few strands at her temples had come loose. Not that any of it was noticeable past the wide, bright grin that lit up her entire face tenfold.

Martin, Leena and Leon were all ready and waiting to properly congratulate Sophie on her win, and James also stepped out from his spot near the front to see her.

“Amazing job team mate!” He said with a wide smile. They looked at each other for half a second before both stepping forward to pull the other into a warm hug. “Congratulations, you deserve it.”

After he’d returned to the paddock and spoken to the press, James had ended up watching the rest of the race from the garage. Because deep down he knew that if he wasn’t going to get a win or podium for the team, he’d want Sophie to do so instead. And he was genuinely and utterly thrilled for her that she’d managed to pull it off.

“I’m sorry about your race.” With her smile briefly flickering away, James could tell that she meant it.

“Ack,” He let Sophie go and waved a dismissive hand at her. “At least it didn’t cost me the championship this time.” He scoffed at the thought of the Mexican race from 2019, and very quickly pushed it right to the back of his mind. “Go on,” With a tilt of his head James gestured to Sophie’s family, who had now all gathered in front of the pit board.

James watched as Sophie nestled herself in-between her parents, with Will next to Mark, Julian on Mary’s other side, and Richard and Vanessa bookending the group. A close up picture of just the Knightsbridge family and the trophies was taken first, before the team photographer fell back in line with the paddock photographers that had managed to blag their way into what had become a very well attended photocall.

A couple of people, no one found out who, had managed to sneak out a couple of smaller champagne bottles from hospitality on the way over, and they started spraying the contents over anyone who was within reach once the photographers had taken all the pictures they needed. Some let out quiet yelps as they tried to dive out of the way, while others just accepted their fate and at the very least tried to keep the spray out of their eyes.

“Whoever that was is buying the first round!” Martin called out, having been completely drenched on one side.

As usual, he’d taken his spot at the side of the picture. He had always been the last person to take credit for anything, forever insisting that any and all of the team’s successes were down to everyone’s hard work – not just his. Even with how many years James had been at McLaren, he could still count on one hand the number of times Martin had been the constructors representative on the podium. And it was either because Andrew had told him to, or the rest of the pit wall had twisted his arm into doing so.

Once everyone had piled into the engineering trucks Martin as always ran the debrief to precision, despite the fact that even the most composed engineers found themselves way beyond giddy. And he dismissed everyone with a rare but genuine grin in the hope that he would see everyone at the afterparty venue.

Which funnily enough, turned out to be the same rooftop bar James and his entourage had celebrated his win at last year, only this time the team had managed to book out the entire place.

Plush black armchairs and polished coffee tables were dotted around the stone tile floor, with space set aside for a small dancefloor that was shadowed by an even smaller DJ booth. Glass railings gave an unobstructed view of the Budapest skyline, while a combination of string and outdoor lights lit up the venue enough that people could clearly see where they were going, but still created a casual atmosphere.

Some people had packed their glad rags either for dinners earlier in the week, or in the case of James with his white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to the elbows, charcoal trousers and matching waistcoat, for sponsor event requirements. Others wore their best t-shirts and jeans but none of it really mattered. Everyone knew deep down that unless another miracle happened, this would likely be the only win the team would be celebrating all season, so they were going to make the most of it.

Sophie seemingly had the same idea, as she walked in with Vanessa and Richard wearing a sparkling fitted pale gold cocktail dress. Her arrival brought with it a chorus of cheers as she skipped over to the bar in a short pair of heels. She was without her family, as they all had jobs to go back to on Monday morning and were on one of the evening flights back to the UK, but James had assumed that Sophie moved mountains to spend as much time with her family as she could before they left.

“Uh…” She quickly looked over her shoulder and saw Steve holding up his fingers in her direction. “Six beers and a glass of house red, a negroni and a Drambuie with ginger beer please.” Sophie reeled off with a polite smile at one of the bartenders, who instantly sprung into action. “Hi!” She looked up at James, who had been leaning against the bar taking in the view, with another one of her beaming smiles.

“I should have known you’d dress the part.” He couldn’t help but notice that the shade of gold fabric brought out the brown in her eyes.

“Oh,” Sophie blushed. “This wasn’t me… Vanessa has had this in her suitcase all season just in the off-chance I won a race.” She shook her head, and her hair which had been styled into loose curls bounced across her shoulders.

“She is one committed performance coach,” James chuckled, and had to find himself holding back a sigh. “You look lovely though.”

“Thanks,” She blushed again, this time more red than pink, as the first part of her drinks order was placed on a tray in front of her. “You don’t scrub up too bad either, I’m starting to see why everyone keeps saying we look so great on posters.”

James properly laughed, so much so he had to set down his drink on the bar so he didn’t spill it. He then pulled his phone out, and sheepishly asked if they could get a picture together, not just as team mates – but as friends. They posted for a couple of selfies, which Sophie made James promise he would send her, and when Mike returned from his phone call home the two team mates stood together with their arms round each other for some proper pictures.

“Congrats again Soph.” Mike said with a small smile as Richard and Steve came over to help dish out the drinks. “Mine’s a vodka and coke when you’re next buying!” He teased as Sophie headed over to join her mechanics.

Mike then fixed James with a knowing look, a shake of the head, and a quiet sigh.

“So you do have a crush on her.”

“I don’t.” James said far too quickly even for his own liking. Mike just raised an eyebrow, and sat down in one of the high barstools. “At least, I hope I don’t.” James huffed, and sat down next to his long-suffering trainer.

“There is a very high chance it’s a combination of six quite stressful months working in close quarters, all the emotions of said work paying off in an unexpected but well-earned race win… and that she’s walked in looking absolutely stunning.” Mike reeled off before ordering two classes of water with ice. “Or, it’s just because you’re lonely.”

James knew better than to argue with him, and instead ran a hand down his face.

“I swear I’ve tried to see and treat her like any other driver. I didn’t go into the season wanting or thinking this would happen, I wouldn’t…” James genuinely liked Sophie as a person. It was why he had agreed to have coffee with her at the factory on that day back in April. She was genuinely great to be around, and James really had been happy back then to have her as a friend somewhere down the line.

“Oh I know, I would have knocked you on your arse if you hadn’t been anything but decent towards her.” Mike said matter of factly, and passed James one of the glasses of water when they were placed in front of him. “It might pass.”

“It might not.” James frowned, tracing a finger through the condensation already forming on the glass. “I don’t want her to be uncomfortable around me.” There was no guarantee that Sophie would either now or ever feel the same way about him, and James certainly didn’t expect her to. If all she wanted to be was friends, then friends they would stay. “I just wanted to be a good team mate.” He said with a long sigh.

“And you are,” Mike gently nudged James with his elbow, and even had a hint of a smile on his face. “Just don’t get to a point where you let Sophie beat you. Because she will find out and I’m pretty sure she’d never forgive you.”

James snickered, and took a long sip of water. “I wouldn’t dream of it.”

“Good.” Mike slapped James on the back, and left the conversation at that as louder music started to play out of some speakers.

What James didn’t know, was that Sophie had spent the past few minutes glancing back and forth in his direction, trying to decide if the compliment she’d paid him earlier had been friendly banter or something else entirely. Eventually she’d shaken her head, told herself it was a fleeting thought, and that for the sake of her career they could only ever be team mates and friends, and took a long sip of her drink. (She also blamed the whiskey liqueur.)

The party passed by in more drinks, dancing (some of it questionable), a few brief but heartfelt speeches, and everyone singing happy birthday to Chris again. It had been a good night. It wasn’t the rager some people outside the sport thought F1 afterparties were like, but it was clear that everyone had enjoyed themselves judging by the gentle laughter that had been the soundtrack for most of the evening.

James had stopped drinking quite early on. Both because of his muddled feelings about Sophie, and that he was driving himself back to the site where the motorhome he used for the European races had been parked for the week. It had been a good decision, as he’d ended up driving Sophie, Richard and Vanessa back to their hotel when it turned out that actual taxis were thin on the ground in late night Budapest.

He'd seen the three of them inside and insisted on walking them back to their rooms to make sure they got back safely. And either by luck or fate, Sophie’s room was last on the list.

“Did Mike get back okay?” She asked with a furrowed brow as they walked down the beige and cream corridor.

“Yeah,” James replied. Mike had been one of the lucky ones to grab an actual taxi back to the hotel, along with Katie and the rest of the press officers. “So…” James paused, for the first time in quite a while not knowing what to say to his team mate. “You’re sure you’re alright?”

“Oh, I hardly drank anything,” Sophie replied with a small if slightly exaggerated nod, her high heels swinging from her hand as she walked. “I just really want to remember today you know, you only win your first race once!”

James smiled a little. Granted his first win had been many years ago now, at Valencia in the baking sun, but he could still recall every moment to this day.

“Ah ha!” Sophie seemingly clocked her hotel room door, and skipped the final few paces towards it. “Oh.” She looked down at the clutch bag and shoes in her hands and frowned. She began to juggle her belongings, presumably in an attempt to retrieve her room key without dropping anything.

“I’ll take your shoes,” James held out one of his hands as he caught up with her. “Or open the door, your choice.”

Sophie’s beige suede heels landed in James’ hand with a small thump, as she opened her small bag and pulled out her room key. Sophie pushed the door open, humming as she strolled inside, and James quietly followed her in. He set the shoes on the floor next to one of the armchairs and awkwardly stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“You’ll be alright now, yeah?” James asked as Sophie carefully sat down on the armrest of the large cream sofa in the middle of the room, facing her team mate as she buried her toes in the plush carpet. He’d done his job and gotten her back to her room in one piece, he didn’t really have a valid reason to stay any longer.

“Yeah, I’ll be fi-” With a loud squeal, Sophie fell backwards. And for a second all James could see was a pair of shins and swinging feet before the room was almost filled with giggles. James took a few steps towards the sofa, and saw Sophie on her back on the seat portion of the sofa, her face creased with laugher. “I fell!”

“Yeah, sure, you didn’t drink that much,” James said sarcastically, still stood at the corner of the sofa with his arms now folded across his chest. “What are we going to do with you?”

“I’m sorry, you must be used to having much more serious team mates,” Sophie pursed her lips together, probably in an attempt to be sober, and ended up giggling again. James shook his head with a small chuckle, and sat down on the wooden coffee table opposite. There was probably only half a metre or so between them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He eventually asked once the giggling had subsided.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Sophie paused and brought a hand to her pearl necklace, the same one she’d worn in Monaco. “I’m fine…” Her voice faded with a small sigh.

As silence began to fill the room James went to stand up, but he was frozen in place when Sophie turned her head to look at him with a small, sweet smile.

“You really are a perfect gentleman you know,” She said, as if it were an honest truth. James smiled nervously and looked down at his feet, a blush beginning to form him his cheeks. “I mean it you… you’ve been really nice to me this year.”

He had no idea what to say in reply, because it was true. In some ways he had gone above and beyond in how he’d welcomed Sophie into the team, while still trying to treat her the way he would any other team mate. But a lot of it, especially when it came to answering questions about her to the press, was in his mind the only thing he could have done.

So he shrugged and clasped his hands together in his lap.

“Just doing the decent thing.”

“You’ve been more than that though,” Sophie spoke softly, either because she was tired from celebrating or because she didn’t want anyone else to hear, which was odd considering they were the only two people in the room. “All year… well from when we had that coffee at the factory,” Slowly, she pushed herself into a seated position and flicked her hair off her shoulders. “You have been a wonderful friend.”

James didn’t know what to say, so he stood up instead and brushed his hands down his waistcoat. When he did finally think up something to say, it was completely knocked out of him when Sophie stood up from the sofa, and hugged him tightly.

With the air around him now filled with the scent of orange blossom, and something else he couldn’t quite place, James felt frozen in place. But eventually, some small part of his brain told his arms to wrap themselves gently round Sophie’s shoulders. He had no idea how long it lasted for, especially when James realised the other scent was Sophie’s hair that smelt softly of apples.

Eventually it was Sophie who leaned out of the hug first. And James had to try really, really hard not to notice the fact that Sophie’s eyes hadn’t really stopped sparkling since he’d first seen her after the race, the sweet smell of her perfume, and that she was at best tipsy meaning it would not be right or fair to lean down and kiss her.

And that she was so, so beautiful.

“I should probably let you go back to your flashy motorhome,” She said quietly, and slowly dropped her arms down by her side. “Thanks for walking us all back.”

James inhaled and drew out a long breath. “Don’t worry about it, you sure you’re alright?”

“I’ll be fine, promise.” She smiled, and went up on the tips of her toes to kiss James’ cheek, likely leaving a small trace of lipstick behind. “Goodnight, team mate.”

When James was finally back in the sanctuary of his motorhome, he made a beeline for the bathroom at an alarming pace. He turned on the cold water tap and cupped his hands underneath it for a couple of seconds before splashing the water on his face. He winced as some of it splashed into his shirt making the fabric cling uncomfortably to his skin, and with his eyes squeezed shut he turned off the tap and reached for the hand towel to his right, and pressed it firmly against his face.

“No James, absolutely not,” He told himself, firmly, while recalling Mike’s words to him at the bar. “She’s your team mate. You’re nearly ten years older than her, and she’s your team mate,” He patted his face dry before messily putting the towel back on its hook. James pressed both hands firmly on the doorframe, bracing against them for support as his heart thumped in his chest. “Do not even think about going down that road.”

He feared it would only end up in heartbreak, for both of them.

#onwards with Hungary 2023 part 2!!#LITFL Chapters #my writing #Life In The Fast Lane

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racingliners · 8 months

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Life In The Fast Lane - Chapter 14: 2023 Race 11 Hungary

Rating: Teen & Up

Warnings: None apply

Pairings: Original Female Character(s)/Original Male Character(s); OFCs & OMCs

Chapter 14/57 Word count: 7.3k Summary: You never forget your first

Friday 28th July – Hungaroring, Budapest

Martin never had his eyes or heart set on management when he joined McLaren all those years ago. He’d started out as a press officer, which granted did require good people skills. When he’d been promoted to Head of Communications, it meant interacting with more of the then-management – and he’d unintentionally impressed them all. When it had been put to Martin that the board had him in mind for the team principle position, he had done everything he could to bolster his knowledge of the other departments. He had lunch with mechanics, sat in on engineer’s meetings, he’d even gone to the wind tunnel on more than one occasion to see how R&D worked in person.

It meant that he was prepared as he could be when he’d been promoted to team principal over six years ago. It had been quite the challenge to manage a championship winning season in his very first year – but the same thing was said for Nathan who was in his rookie season. And they won both titles that year.

Though, as it was said by so many in the paddock, in F1 you learn more when you lose as opposed to when you win. Which was why this season in particular was proving to be Martin’s most challenging by far.

Team morale fluctuated with the pace of the car – which seemed to change every weekend. Sophie’s podium hadn’t quite been a false dawn, if anything it proved to everyone that they could achieve success if everything fell into place. But luck was always so difficult to find in motorsport.

Martin found himself sat in-between Edward Morden and Charlotte Stewart from Mercedes in the Team Principle’s press conference on Friday afternoon, about an hour after the end of FP2. Edward was smug following both Schmitz’s win in Germany two weeks ago, and with Red Bull’s pace in both practice sessions. Charlotte by contrast was playing her cards very close to her chest – even though every other team in the paddock had ran the numbers and knew that Mercedes were at worst going to be on par with Red Bull over one lap and in the race.

“Question for Martin,” An advantage of being a former press officer was that journalists, no matter how hard they tried, never phased him – as one of the writers from the BBC asked the first question from the floor. “McLaren’s pace has looked the best it has in practice probably for the first time since China. Do you think the upgrades you introduced in Germany have paid off? Or is it because James and Sophie are both very familiar with the Hungaroring and know how to get the most out of it?”

“Truthfully, I think it’s a combination of both. James won here last year, as did Sophie in both F2 races. But also the data we got from the last race in Germany was very promising. Even though it was a wet race, we could still see some good gains in our performance. And coming into this weekend we knew that this track would be much better for us.”

In both practice sessions the team hadn’t just managed to get both cars into the top ten, but James and Sophie had one top five lap time apiece between them – and the engineers knew there were still potential gains on the table. Though it was starting to look like that their race pace was going to be much closer to the cars ahead compared to their quali runs. More than a few things would have to fall into McLaren’s favour if they wanted to think about a race win.

“Even if you do get one or both cars on the podium come Sunday, is it not just a sticking plaster for what has been by your own admission a very unsuccessful season by McLaren’s standards?” The next journalist asked. Martin hummed, and very carefully thought out and picked his words.

“Well, we’ve all said multiple times that this isn’t where we want to be. We want to be in the fight for the championship. And we have gone a bit wrong in terms of our car design, though we still have positives over our rivals that are still working well for us. But in a season like this you can’t think about how you would like your results to be, you have to ensure that you and the team are taking the maximum potential out of every single race weekend. At one race that might be fifth, at the next it could be a race win or podium finish. And you have to also ensure that you are there to capitalise on the cars around you making mistakes,” He paused to clasp his hands on the table in front of him.

“Every single person inside the garage and back at Woking is working incredibly hard to deliver the best results we can. And we also have a fantastic driver line-up with James and Sophie, who have been working brilliantly together and bringing home some great points for the constructors championship when they’ve had the opportunity. As long as we learn something from every weekend to carry us forward, then that to me right now is all that matters.”

It wasn’t quite the answer the journalist had wanted, and it also wasn’t quite what the board would have wanted him to say – which meant it was the absolute best answer Martin could give.

Once the press conference was finally over, he and Charlotte quickly made small talk before wishing each other well for the weekend. And as he walked back into the paddock with Katie, he put on a brave face for all to see. McLaren might be down on form, but they certainly hadn’t lost their ability to fight.

Saturday 29th July

“Come on…” Sophie groaned, her eyes fixed on one of the many TV screens broadcasting the F2 sprint race. “Come on, come on, come on,” She repeated under her breath, on the off-chance it would somehow will Julian on to hold on to third place, and get his first podium of the season.

Julian’s parents hadn’t been able to get the time off to fly out to Hungary, so Mark and Mary had gone down to the support paddock in their place, proudly fulfilling their Aunt and Uncle duties. It meant that Sophie had been alone at a table in the motorhome for the start of the race, though her loud cheer when Julian passed two cars on the first lap had caught Richard’s attention and he’d ended up joining her.

“Who’s leading?” A voice, Chris’ Sophie recognised after a second, asked as he leaned against the table. Sophie let out a small groan in reply, her eyes too closely fixed on the running order on the side of the screen as the cameras cut away to one of the bright red Premas. She had went from watching sat down to being stood up perched against the table about two laps into the race.

“Virtanen, there’s eight laps left,” Richard said quietly, not that there was any commentary for Sophie to listen to. He didn’t say anything about Julian’s potential maiden podium, either because Chris already knew or because it was clear to both of them that Sophie was far more stressed than she should have been in the hours leading up to qualifying.

So instead of sitting down, Chris perched himself on the edge pf the table next to Sophie and placed a firm but reassuring hand on her shoulder.

“Which car is Julian in?”

“22.” Richard replied, joining his colleagues. He silently put an arm around Sophie’s shoulders while she continued to gnaw on her thumbnail.

Vanessa really had timed her phone call home at the worst possible moment. And Will was somewhere trackside taking pictures.

The laps trickled away, and at some point someone put two and two together and unmuted the TV as Heikki Virtanen started the last lap. Word must have gotten out that Julian was doing well, as a few people from PR had joined the gathering, alongside Aditya and Luke. Sophie found herself filled with familiar agony as her eyes continued to be glued to the timing intervals on the side of the screen, though she had never felt this bad watching Julian race before. Sophie briefly wondered if this was how her parents had felt every race day for the past sixteen years, and made a mental note to apologise.

As Virtanen crossed the finish line in first, the camera hung around long enough to see the second placed car, before immediately cutting to Julian’s navy blue Carlin as he meandered round the final few corners. Fourth place was seven tenths back. All Julian had to do was hold his nerve and he’d be on the podium.

It felt like everything happened at double speed. Julian brushed his car a little too close to the barrier at the final corner before he gently straightened the steering and accelerated down the start-finish straight, and was the third car to see the chequered flag.

Polite applause filled the air as Sophie let out a loud and completely undignified cheer before a few stray tears fell down her face as Richard and Chris squeezed her on both sides.

“I need to get to the support paddock, I have to see him.” The words flew out of Sophie’s mouth as she looked up at Richard. Out of the corner of her eye should could see Chris and Luke fixing Richard with a firm stare that said ‘Don’t you dare say no’.

“If we make a run for it we’ll catch the podium,” Richard said firmly, and turned towards the stairs.

“Tell Vanessa where I’ve gone!” Sophie shouted over her shoulder in the hope that someone would hear and she skipped down the silver steps after Richard and practically ran out the main doors, with a few people shouting congratulations after her.

They dashed into the pitlane, and not the support paddock. As the Hungaroring was so small that all the support categories and F1 had their ceremonies on the same podium. Richard stayed put in scrutineering while Sophie flashed her paddock pass at one of the marshals who let her into parc fermé. She instantly recognised her mechanics from last year and they all clapped each other on the back and shoulders as Sophie squeezed through the crowd to find her parents. She finally found them at the very front, pressed up against the barrier.

Eventually, the number 22 Carlin came into view, and Julian bounded out of the car the second he parked it at an alarming rate, making a beeline for his family. He threw his arms round Mark and Mary, both of whom were quite weepy, before he pulled Sophie into a near bone crushing hug.

“You fucking smashed it!!” She exclaimed as she patted her cousin’s black and chrome silver helmet. “I am so proud of you.”

“No pressure for tomorrow!” Julian was likely grinning under his helmet. Sophie just playfully screwed up her face as her cousin made his way round to see all of his mechanics before he had to almost be dragged over for his post-race interview.

Sophie took as many pictures and videos as she could of the podium ceremony, and she even managed to collect a few stray pieces of confetti which she stuffed into her pocket. They had just enough time to squeeze in a family picture with Julian and his trophy before Sophie had to go back to the motorhome to get ready for qualifying.

“Great job James!” It had been so long since Paul had something to cheer for that James almost didn’t believe just how delighted his race engineer sounded. “That is P6, we did just miss out on P5 by a couple of hundredths, but we know there’s pace in the car for tomorrow.”

“Good work everyone!” James replied, equal parts annoyed to miss out on a top five start by such a small margin, and relieved that he was at least within striking distance. “Where’s Sophie?”

“P4, about nine hundredths ahead.”

It had been the story for most of the weekend. Apart from FP1, Sophie had been faster than James in every single session. But at least they had managed to get both cars in the top ten for the second qualifying running. His disappointment about not being the lead car aside, it had been a good day for the team.

As he and Katie walked into the press pen, James realised that his shoulders hadn’t felt this light since Monaco. And all the journalists seemed to notice just how happy both McLaren drivers were with their performance. But, as they’d been told to by their press officers, they played down just how far up they could finish tomorrow. Even if McLaren and everyone else knew that their long run pace on Friday had been up there with Red Bull and Mercedes.

“How have you managed such a quick turn around?” James was asked in his final interview of the day.

“Well…” He huffed as he saw Sophie and Richard leave out of the corner of his eye. “Our upgrades in Germany have definitely helped, but I think it’s also that we were able to find the car’s performance window this week, which we’ve really struggled to do for most of the season. I think Martin said it quite well in that when these weekends happen, we have to do everything possible to capitalise on it. Hopefully one of us will be on the podium tomorrow.”

And as much as James liked Sophie, he wanted it to be him. Winning in Brazil last year felt so, so long ago. And while he had been putting his experience to good use in trying everything to help the team turn their fortunes around, he really wanted to get at least one trophy this year to show for it.

After a quick shower in the motorhome, James got changed and sprinted across the tarmac in the hope he would avoid any journalists as he went over to the engineering trucks for the post-quali debrief.

It was amazing what one decent session had done for morale. All the mechanics back in the garage had been beaming at the end of the session, and while most of the engineers already had their heads down looking at their laptops, those that weren’t all had smiles on their faces.

“Good job today Soph!” James called out as he made his way over to his seat. Sophie looked up, having been in deep conversation with Chris.

“Cheers, you too!” She grinned back, and the two team mates leaned over the tables to bump fists before sitting back down.

Chris and Sophie and resumed having their heads huddled together as they conversed and scribbled into their notebooks, the pair of them really were becoming quite the professional partnership. Eventually, once they were seemingly happy, Sophie dropped her pen on the desk and stretched out her fingers, her hand apparently cramped from all the writing.

“My God,” Paul mock gawked as he entered the room and walked over towards his driver with a steaming mug of tea. “You’re early”.

James rolled his eyes. Even in his title winning year he was never early for debriefs. Almost always on time and no more.

“First time for everything” James flashed a small smile as Paul sat down next to him and put on his radio headset.

Martin was the last to arrive, having not been so lucky in avoiding journalists on the way over.

“Alright everyone, all in all, given the car we have that was a brilliant qualifying session by everyone. Sophie, I promise to be the last person today to congratulate you on being the first female driver to qualify in the top five,” There was a pause as a few chuckles ran round the room, and through the headsets back at Woking.

“Thank you Martin.” James didn’t need to look to see that Sophie was blushing as Chris and Gary clapped her on the shoulder.

“But, while we are going to run simulations overnight, we know that we’re faster than Ferrari and almost on par with Red Bull and Mercedes on long run pace… there is a very good chance that we will be in contention for at least a podium tomorrow. Leena and Amir, why don’t you talk us through what the initial plan is for the race…”

Sunday 30th July

“So, you remember the strategy?” Chris asked once Sophie had jumped out of the car. It felt odd being back on the second row of the grid after so long, but she tried her best to just acknowledge it and move on. She couldn’t afford to get caught up in the occasion, not today. Not when a chance to be up on the podium again was there for the taking.

“Yeah,” Sophie nodded, and stepped in closer to her engineer in case there were any journalists floating around trying to listen in. “First stop for mediums. Then softs plan A and supers plan B to the end.”

“And don’t sing happy birthday to me on the formation lap okay? You’ve got a podium to get.”

“Okay…” Sophie playfully screwed up her face at Chris, who after the final briefing session had been presented with a very beautiful chocolate cake covered in fresh fruit in honour of his 38th birthday.

She knew that Chris just wanted Sophie to be completely focused on jumping cars at the start, since it was so hard to overtake around the Hungaroring. And she had no intention of doing anything else. Sophie just wanted to do something nice for her team mate, after all the hard work he’d done so far this year.

They spent as much time as they could talking about the track conditions, and any potential set-up tweaks Sophie would want or need, before she had to stand at the front of the grid for the national anthem. Her and Nico just about managed to squeeze in a good luck hug in which he told his friend to get at least on the podium, before he made the mad dash down to his slot in twelfth.

Could she win today? No one was really a hundred percent sure. The team’s aim was to simply get both cars as high up the order as possible. Not many race simulations had McLaren finishing on top as Martin would have liked. Sophie had to make gains at the start, as well as hopefully passing the surrounding cars either at the pit stops or on track, for there to be a chance of the team pulling it off.

Though some pundits, did have McLaren as optimistic outsiders.

Sophie and Vanessa bumped fists as the car was lowered onto the ground, and Steve did his now traditional pat of the car’s nosecone before everyone ran to the sides of the track, as the grid pulled away for the formation lap.

Remember to watch Carotti at the start. Chris’ words played back in Sophie’s mind as she exited the final corner, and slowly pulled up into her slot on the grid. She quickly glanced at the bright red Ferrari adjacent to her, and Benedikt’s dark blue Red Bull in front.

You’ve done this before, just keep it clean going into turn one. Sophie told herself, as the five red start lights illuminated one by one.

As soon as the lights went out, she released the clutch and pressed firmly on the accelerator pedal. Herself and the top three had all made good starts as they headed for turn one, and all four of them broke for the corner in quick succession, with Sophie being the last in the hope of taking Giovanni’s place. And while Sophie neatly clipped the apex, the red Ferrari was still alongside her as they made the approach for turn two. Sophie was forced to take the outside line, but she held firm knowing that it would become the inside for turn three if she had enough of her car ahead.

So she broke slightly later again, and swept her McLaren round the curve of turn two far enough that her front axle was in line with Carotti’s front wing, allowing Sophie to come out of turn three on the racing line – and in third place.

“Yes!” She hissed inside her helmet, and quickly switched her focus to Benedikt who hadn’t completely shot off down the track as he pursued Nathan’s Mercedes.

“Great job Sophie, we are racing the cars ahead, just keep your head down.” Chris as ever was almost icy cool over the radio as Sophie drove through the second sector. “Excellent pass at turn two.” Though it wasn’t hard to hear his smile from the cockpit.

“Let’s get this podium!” She radioed back before braking for the sequence of last three corners that led back onto the start-finish straight.

The first stint of the race was always going to be a case of each team holding their nerve to see who would pit first. That, and the super softs weren’t predicted to have a great performance window given the hot weather, so all each pit wall could do was tell their driver to keep going either until a gap in the traffic appeared, or one of them blinked first.

From Sophie’s perspective, the car had felt the best it had all season. Just like in practice she was able to carry better speed through the corners than the cars around her. She didn’t know if it would be enough to win, but she was damn well going to try.

“Okay Soph, box opposite Schmitz. Box opposite Schmitz.” Chris radioed in at the start of lap 18.

“Copy.” Benedikt’s Red Bull was barely two seconds ahead of her, he had been faster on the super soft tyres but not by much. Their lap times had only been a tenth or two within each other.

Sophie pushed a little bit harder round the track in case it ended up being her in lap, and she closed the gap to Benedikt by a few tenths, and when she saw him speed out of turn 13 and stay on the racing line, she veered right when she made her way out of the same corner and dived into the pits. The pit crew had been ready and waiting with a new set of mediums just in case. And it felt like a near-perfect stop as the red-banded tyres were swapped for white, and Sophie barely had time to peel off one of her visor tare-offs before she was away again.

“Okay, out lap is critical. Let’s get him.” It was a safe assumption that Red Bull would pit Ben on the next lap to cover her stop, so Sophie was more than a little annoyed when she saw two cars on her left as she came out the pits. Thankfully she managed to out brake them for turn one and found herself out in clean air as she pushed hard to both get the tyres up to temperature, and hopefully make up the time difference to jump Benedikt whenever he stopped.

“Schmitz is in,” Chris radioed again as Sophie drove out of turn 12. “Give it everything you’ve got.”

She attacked the final sector as if it was a quali run, and while a small part of her worried about what tyre life she would have at the end of her stint, Sophie hoped that it had been enough as she accelerated down the main straight to start lap 20.

“You got him! We are net P2, Watkins is still to stop.” As Sophie accelerated out of turn 1, she could just about see the navy blue Red Bull in her mirrors.

Nathan retained the lead once the rest of the top ten had made their first stops, with Sophie holding strong in second and Benedikt in third. James had gotten up to fourth by lap 25, and both McLaren’s were running well on the mediums. They weren’t faster than the Red Bull and Mercedes around them, but they were matching them. Which for now was enough.

For every lap time Chris asked for, Sophie delivered. And she found herself in a sort of no-man’s land with Nathan four seconds up the road and Benedikt five seconds behind when the Virtual Safety Car was deployed on lap 37.

“James has had a run in with one of the lapped cars, he’s stopped at turn 5 and there’s a bit of debris on track, be careful.” The message wasn’t what Sophie had wanted to hear on two counts. The first and most obvious was her team mate’s safety, and second it meant that any chances of the team getting a double podium (which had been on the cards had things fallen McLaren’s way) had just gone up in a confetti of carbon fibre. They both knew how much it would have meant to every single person in the garage and back at Woking to have such a good result after the season they’d had thus far.

“Is he out the car?”

“Yes, James is fine,” Chris replied, still sounding incredibly cool and composed. “Just stay focused, remember your VSC delta.”

Sophie briefly thought of her family stood with Richard and Vanessa at the back of the garage, and just as quickly snapped herself out of it. She couldn’t lose focus now.

“How are the tyres feeling?”

“Good, no graining from what I can tell.”

“Copy,” Chris likely paused to either scribble in his notebook or pass the information on to Leena and Amir. “We want you to stay out for now and keep track position.”

Had they been at a different circuit, the plan likely would have been to pit under the VSC and go to the end of the race. But none of the cars around Sophie seemed to be doing that, so she took in a deep breath and exhaled instead of questioning the team’s strategy call. She had to trust the pit wall to make the right decisions as much as they had to trust Sophie to keep the car on the road.

She hammered her foot down on the accelerator pedal when the VSC ended after three laps, and thanks to the fact that she had been exiting the final corner and Nathan had been braking for turn one, she closed the gap to him by just over a second.

The sun had remained high in the sky the entire race, with the crystal blue scattered with small fluffy clouds that hadn’t gone away by lap 50, when Nathan pitted for his final stop – and Sophie took the lead of the race.

Chris told her to push, but not that she’d be coming in at the end of the lap. Plan A plus five was what he’d told her over the radio a few laps ago. So she tried to recall everything she’d learned throughout the weekend thus far and gave the next few laps hell, trying to eke out every single millisecond of lap time she could find. It would be marginal, with Nathan on fresh tyres doing the exact same thing to avoid being overcut. And when Sophie started lap 55 in the pit lane, her worn out mediums exchanged for a fresh set of yellow-walled soft tyres, she wasn’t completely sure if it had been enough.

When she drove out of the pit lane, she saw Nathan’s Mercedes breeze through turn one.

“I know you’re frustrated, but the race is going to come to us at the end. You have fresher tyres. You can do this.”

It was funny how Chris just knew that Sophie would be upset at not coming out in the lead. She was a racing driver, so of course it was in her nature. But it was the way in which he knew exactly how to keep Sophie focused. Look at the bigger picture, see the positives. There was still a chance, however big or small, that she could win.

“Where’s Schmitz?”

“P1, but he’s yet to make his final stop. He’s bleeding time on his old mediums he won’t be a threat.”

Sophie wasn’t sure if the assessment needed to be so brutal, but it got the point across.

Her tyres were up to temperature by the end of the lap, and she just about saw on her pit board that she had fifteen laps remaining. And crucially, she hadn’t lost sight of Nathan at all. If anything, he looked a hair closer to her than before. She could even make out the splashes of Petronas teal on his sidepods as he turned right for the first corner.

With Sophie’s tyre advantage, it only took her five laps to get within Nathan’s DRS range, and the additional speed was more than welcome.

She briefly thought of her Dad again, and all the trophies he’d helped win back at the McLaren factory, and when James had happily showed them to her on that rainy day in April. But Sophie just as quickly put those memories in a box to deal with later.

Instead she reeled off all the potential places where she could overtake, and ended up with a very short list. The first three corners were her most realistic bet, which meant that as she broke for turn 2, her opportunity on that lap had already gone because she hadn’t been close enough to begin with.

Benedikt pitted at the start of lap 57, but only after Nathan and Sophie had to overtake him on track because of how slow he was on his old tyres. He hadn’t made it easy for either of them and they’d both lost time. Which considering that he was the championship leader, was probably the whole idea. Sophie exhaled any remaining frustration she had about the situation and fixed her attention back on Nathan’s Mercedes.

She was back within DRS range pretty quickly, and had closed down to within a few tenths of him even quicker. But then she found herself in the leading car’s dirty air, and while the regulations had been designed for cars to follow one and other closer than before, it still wasn’t going to be ideal to stay there forever.

“How much fuel do I have?” She asked Chris on lap 59.

“More than enough for now, keep pushing.”

Deep down Sophie knew that she didn’t have enough raw pace to get past him, but if she could stay close enough to either force Nathan to make a mistake, or take advantage of one, maybe, just maybe…

The start of lap 63 came, and with it, a small puff of white smoke from Nathan’s front right tyre as he broke for the first corner, and went slightly wide off his line as a result. This was it, maybe her one and only chance.

Sophie broke as late as she possibly dared and pulled up alongside the Mercedes at the apex of turn one. She was on the inside line which was very quickly going to become the outside of turn two as she activated her DRS, and very quickly glanced to her left.

Sophie respected Nathan, and he respected her back. He knew better than to force her off the circuit and while she was nowhere near as experienced in an F1 car as Nathan was, she knew not to go for a gap that wasn’t there.

So Sophie once again broke late for turn two, and planted her McLaren on the outside line, just like on the first lap. Her front axle was in-line with Nathan’s now, but she knew he would try and get to the apex of turn three first anyway.

But Sophie did, and took the lead of the race with it.

“Go, go, go!! Give it everything you have!” Chris almost shouted down the radio as Sophie drove up the hill toward turn four, as an almighty roar came from the grandstands at turn five.

Count the corners… just count the bloody corners.

The sweeping right hand of five, the right-left chicane of six and seven, the sharper turns of eight and nine-

“How far behind is he?”

“Two tenths, he’ll try to come back in the final sector and at turn one… just keep your head down Sophie.”

Head down. Count the corners. Don’t burn all the fuel. Watch the tyres. Eight laps left, if her maths was right.

Sophie could see Nathan clear as day in her mirrors as she swept round turns 13 and 14. And he was the one to have DRS this time going down the start-finish straight and on the run down to turn 2. But Sophie held her defensive live, and maintained the lead with seven laps left.

When there were six laps left, Nathan dropped back by another couple of tenths.

When there were five laps left, the gap between them was stuck at half a second. Sophie still had the fresher tyres, and while Nathan did absolutely have the better car, the lay of the track meant that he was struggling to do much with it other than chase.

But still he chased, employing the exact same tactics as Sophie used on him. Holding close, waiting for a mistake, while Sophie just kept on counting the corners.

With four laps left, the gap between them was just under six tenths of a second.

With three laps left, it was back down to five tenths.

Sophie didn’t have the headspace to think about what it would mean for her to win the race. About the message it would send not just to the whole paddock, but to the entire planet.

The penultimate lap came with no change between the two leading cars. Then finally, along came lap 70.

She made it through the first sector without any dramas, though Sophie didn’t have the best line through the chicane, which allowed Nathan to close up by another tenth. Turns 8 to 11 went past in a blur. And as she broke for turn 12, Sophie just about saw the corner of Nathan’s front wing hovering by her right rear tyre.

There were just two corners left, as Sophie focused on the track ahead instead of the car behind. She’d deliberately saved a tiny bit of energy from the battery in case she needed to make one final charge down the main straight.

The crowds were on their feet as Sophie turned left for 13, and after what felt like an age right for the long, sweeping turn 14.

She pressed hard on the accelerator, drained what was left of her battery, turned the fuel mix to maximum, and first saw all her orange clad mechanics pumping their fists through the gaps in the pit lane fence, and the chequered flag fluttering through the air almost in slow motion. It was like someone was stretching out the circuit, making the run to the finish line even longer.

But Nathan was still in her mirrors when Sophie crossed the finish line. First.

Muscle memory kicked in as she put the car into fuel saving mode and eased her foot off the accelerator pedal. Then she burst into tears.

“Sophie Knightsbridge…” Chris had to pause, he had an almighty lump in his throat by the sounds of things. “You’ve just won the Hungarian Grand Prix, you are a Formula 1 race winner!” Any remaining sense of decorum or professionalism had clearly gone out the window, as her race engineer shouted out of pure joy down the radio. “That was such an incredible drive… we are so, so proud of you.”

“You’ve just made history Sophie! Many, many congratulations. And also the second Knightsbridge to win with us.”

“Sophie that was an utterly brilliant drive! Well done from all of us.”

“As Chris would say, you little superstar. Congratulations Sophie.”

Martin, Leena and Amir all gave their congratulations over the radio as Sophie waved at as many marshals and fans in the grandstands as she could.

In her peripheral vision, she saw Nathan pull up alongside her and he gave Sophie an thumbs up from the cockpit.

“Remember your tyre pick up as well Soph.” Chris suddenly radioed in, sounding completely and utterly spent. “And take it all in my friend, you’ve more than earned it.”

“I don’t know what to say, I…” She drew in a shaky breath as more tears fell down her face. “Thank you so much to everyone who’s believed in me all these years. Martin for giving me a chance this year, my family…” Sophie had to cough away a heavy sob. “All of you on the pit wall, and everyone in the garage and back at Woking. I could not have done any of this without you. I love you all so much.”

Somehow, somewhere, she found the energy to cheer at the top of her voice. She wanted to bottle the moment up and carry it round with her forever.

“Oh,” A penny suddenly dropped in Sophie’s mind. “I hope this is an alright birthday present Chris.”

Her race engineer just laughed down the radio, and took a long pause.

“Please don’t sing,” He finally said as Sophie meandered her way through the second sector.

Right as Sophie joked that she barely had any energy left, a marshal who had been stood at the side of the track waving flags stepped out of formation, with some fabric clenched in their fist. As Sophie slowed down to take it, she recognised the stripes of the British flag.

When Sophie drove off she clutched half the flag in her left hand so it wouldn’t get caught in the airbox when she threw her fist into the air and let the rest of the fabric flutter in the breeze as Sophie slowly made her way back to the pits.

There was a whole line of marshals jumping and dancing around on the approach to turn 14, likely designed to direct any wayward drivers into the pitlane. And Sophie dropped the flag in her lap to have both hands back on the steering wheel so she could press the pit limiter button early.

The pit lane was always full with people at the end of the race, but today there was a colossal amount of photographers gathered at the pit lane entrance. So much so that a temporary barrier had been put up to keep them in place. All of them wanted to be the first to photograph the winner. The few remaining members on the Red Bull pit wall were both on their feet and applauding as Sophie drove past. But she burst into tears again at the sight of Leena, Amir and Leon forming a guard of honour with some of James’ engineers on the other side of the pit lane.

Everyone from Sophie’s side of the garage had gathered themselves in perc fermé. They were easy to spot – all right in front of the number 1 sign that Sophie just about managed to stop her car at. She switched off the car, and flicked up her visor to pinch the bridge of her nose, and right as she undid her seatbelt to get out of the car Nathan walked over to the orange McLaren, and crouched down by the cockpit. He reached a black gloved hand inside, and Sophie clasped it tightly.

“Congratulations!” He shouted through the lining of his helmet as he flicked up his own visor. “I haven’t enjoyed a fight like that in a long time.”

Sophie let out a small laugh through her happy tears.

“Listen, enjoy it okay? And don’t let anyone take this away from you.”

“I don’t plan to.” Sophie shouted through her helmet back.

“See you up there!” With a customary pat of her helmet, Nathan stepped away to see his own mechanics, allowing Sophie to jump out of her seat and carefully stand on top of her car with her fists raised aloft in the air as applause and raucous cheers were the only sounds she could hear.

Right at the front of the barriers were Sophie’s family, and she jumped off the car and made a beeline for their arms, hugging each and every one of them for as long as she could. She wanted to say that she loved them but the words kept on getting caught in her throat, so she just squeezed them all tightly and hoped it was enough.

“I’m so proud of you sweetheart,” Mark just about said through the tear stains on his cheeks. “We always knew you could do it love.”

Sophie went as high up on her toes as possible, and hugged her father tightly around the shoulders.

“Go, go see the others.” Mark said when he finally let his daughter go. And if Sophie’s mechanics had been cheering at the top of their voices in Shanghai, she briefly wondered if they would ever have any voices left as she made out Steve in the bubble of orange. Sophie hugged her number one mechanic while Aditya, Luke and Tommy all reached round to pat her helmet.

When Steve let go Sophie reached out for as many hands as she could, and only once she was certain she had seen everyone, she looked around for Vanessa and Richard.

Once again, Vanessa had planted herself just inside the scrutineering garage, and this time Richard was with her. Sophie’s face split into a wide grin as she sprinted towards her trainer and press officer, who both had their index fingers pointing to the sky forming the number one, and Sophie returned the gesture before stretching her arms out wide to hug them both.

“We did it!!!” Sophie finally found her voice again, and shouted for everyone to hear.

“You bloody smashed it!” Richard grinned. Poor Vanessa was too overwhelmed to speak and just hugged her driver and best friend tightly before jumping up and down with excitement. Once back on solid ground, Sophie went over to the scales to get weighed. And as she was finally stood still for more than a few seconds, she had the chance to remove her gloves, helmet and HANS device.

There had been multiple cameras following her the entire time, one was for the global TV feed and the others were photographers who were constantly snapping away in case the perfect shot magically happened in front of them. Sophie stayed stood on the scales regardless, and closed her eyes as she tried to steady her breathing. She pressed her free palm against her forehead and let a wide grin wash across her face.

Sophie jumped off the scales when she was told, and took the slip of paper from Pat Roberston, who congratulated her with a bright smile.

“Sophie!” Someone called out from the front of the open garage. Sophie whipped her head round, and beamed at Nico who sprinted towards his friend, and crushed her in the tightest hug he’d ever given her.

“I am so proud of you!” He exclaimed. “About fucking time.” He grinned as he ruffled his friends hair, already an FIA attendant was pushing Sophie towards the stairwell that led to the cool down room. “I love you!”

Sophie chuckled as Nico kissed the top of her head before he was directed over to the weigh scales.

“Love you too!” Sophie called back, and she turned to give one last cheer and fist bump in the air to her team before she pushed through the grey door, and headed for the podium.

* * *

2023 Hungarian Grand Prix Classification

1st - Sophie Knightsbridge (McLaren) - 25pts

2nd - Nathan Watkins (Mercedes) - 18pts

3rd - Benedikt Schmitz (Red Bull) - 15pts

4th - Cristóbal Vasquez (Alpine) - 12pts

5th - Giovanni Carotti (Ferrari) - 10pts

6th - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 8pts

7th - Aaron Jones (Aston Martin) - 6pts

8th - Teo Martinez (Ferrari) - 4pts

9th - Evan McKinley (Williams) - 2pts

10th - Nico Dumont (Alpha Tauri) - 1pt

11th - Owen Nichols (Aston Martin)

12th - Erik Braun (Audi)

13th - Jan Martens (Audi)

14th - Antonio Lima (Alpha Tauri)

15th - Aidan Glover (Williams)

16th - Tadashi Sato (Haas)

17th - Leon Bauer (Haas)

RET - Marc Pavard (Mercedes)

RET - James Hewitt (McLaren)

RET - Daniel Jakobsson (Alpine)

Fastest Lap - Alistair Mitchell (Red Bull) - 1pt

2023 Championship Standings after Round 11

Drivers Standings

1st - Benedikt Schmitz - 175pts

2nd - Giovanni Carotti - 153pts

3rd - Nathan Watkins - 148pts

4th - Cristóbal Vasquez - 127pts

5th - Alistair Mitchell - 119pts

(8th - Sophie Knightsbridge - 61pts

10th - James Hewitt - 37pts)

Constructors Standings

1st - Red Bull Racing-Honda - 294pts

2nd - Mercedes - 238pts

3rd - Ferrari - 231pts

4th - Alpine-Renault - 176pts

5th - McLaren-Mercedes - 98pts

#my writing #Life In The Fast Lane #LITFL Chapters #not to jinx myself but I do tentatively have all the chapters planned out 🎉#it may likely change if I get too typing happy and split races across two chapters (like that happened with this one)#also Nia I didn't want to tag you in the same thing twice but THANK YOU for your help on the race section of this chapter #I appreciated it so so much

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