Chapter Text
Hanni Pham to Join Oracle Red Bull Racing for 2025 Formula 1 Season
Pham rejoins Oracle Red Bull Racing after leaving the team in 2023 for Scuderia Ferrari.
The twenty-five year old Australian first joined Red Bull Racing in 2020 alongside teammate Minji Kim. The two were heralded as the dynamic rookie duo, achieving P2 and P3 in their debut race, and clinching second in the Constructor’s Championship for Red Bull at the end of the season.
“I wouldn’t want it any other way” stated Pham in 2020, following the win, “I’m so grateful to the team and to Minji. I really couldn’t have done this without any of them.”
However, things quickly took a turn in 2021 and 2022, with a series of mechanical and technical issues plaguing both drivers, leading to disappointing seasons.
“It’s just frustrating when you give it your all, but there are things out of your control that don’t allow you to succeed,” Kim said in 2021 during a post race conference in Monza.
At the end of the 2022 season, Pham announced that she would be racing for Scuderia Ferrari in 2023. She and her former teammate butted heads on the track throughout the 2023 season, in a close friendship turned heated rivalry. Tensions rose in late 2023 in Mexico City, resulting in a crash and two DNFs, and the drivers were seen arguing heatedly later that day. Both Pham and Kim have declined to comment on their relationship.
Following a promising but ultimately disappointing 2024 season for Red Bull, many hope that Pham’s return will be what the team needs for success in the upcoming season.
Lily Morrow, F1 Correspondent
–
“Hanni Pham, winner in Bahrain! And it looks like it's gonna be a Red Bull one-two, with Minji Kim taking home second.”
“Well done. Checkered flag,” Haerin's voice crackles over the radio as Minji crosses the finish line, slowing and shifting down gears as she pulls around the track, the rumbling of the engine steady around her.
She's tired. Her body aches and sweat is soaked into what feels like every pore, but she still raises a hand to wave to the crowd. The bright spotlights that light up the desert are almost blinding.
“Thanks. Good job everyone,” Minji says, trying to push some enthusiasm in her voice to hide the disappointment.
She shouldn’t. She shouldn’t be disappointed with P2. There are other people who would kill for second place, and she's gotten points for the team, which is equally as important for the Constructors Championship. But she can't help the bitterness that rises in her chest as she pulls in next to the other Red Bull car, the nose of her own car gently tapping up against the second place marker. It stings, losing.
Especially to Hanni.
It wasn’t always like this. There was a time where the only time she was okay with losing, was when she lost to Hanni. Minji was fresh out of VCARB, the Red Bull junior team, with barely half a season under her belt. Hanni came straight from Formula 2 (granted, as that season's champion), with only a few races of F1 experience as a reserve driver. They really had no business racing for one of the top teams in F1.
But no one was prepared for the departure of both of the Red Bull drivers, leaving vacant spaces that urgently needed to be filled. Red Bull took a gamble on them, having two rookies, an unprecedented choice.
And it paid off. In their first race too.
The sun had been hot that day, sweat sticky under the collar of her race suit even after some time in the cool down room. Champagne dripped down her neck, the sweetness seeping into her undershirt and her fireproofs, running in rivulets down her hand. She hadn’t been able to stop smiling since she barreled across the finish line, even after her cheeks started to hurt.
Third place had never felt so good.
She remembers looking over at Hanni at her second place podium, their eyes meeting, wearing mirrored smiles right before they turned their champagne bottles on each other, already half empty from spraying the audience gathered below them. She'd slung her arm over Hanni's shoulders afterwards, putting the now nearly empty bottle to her lips. The champagne was sweet and fruity on her tongue and Hanni laughed, and tilted her head up to meet Minji's eyes.
“Let's do it again, yeah?” she'd said, wispy bangs stuck to her forehead, brown eyes sparkling in the sun, and the future had never felt more clear then.
It hurt when she left, a gut punch that still aches. An ache that's more present now that Hanni’s decided to come back.
Minji hasn’t made up her mind about it yet, even though she’s had several months to come to terms with the fact that for the next season, she and Hanni will be teammates again. And of course no one thought to fucking tell her before the second to last race of last season, leading to a very unflattering photo of her shocked expression as a smug reporter informed her of that fact, before she was able to recover and give a neutral, diplomatic answer that even Hyein would be proud of.
She'd done horribly in that race, dropping several positions in turn one and barely scraping P10 to get some meagre points.
Minji lets herself scowl, letting her helmet hide her expression, before she shakes her head to disperse the memories, taking the wheel out of the car and hoisting herself out. It's hot, the heat dissipating from the engine of the car and that feeling grounds her as she waves to the audience.
In the corner of her vision she sees Hanni doing the same. She's standing by the barriers, the members of their team cheering and patting her on the back and helmet as they celebrate their collective win.
Minji’s beckoned over, and she makes her way over too, receiving the same treatment. But the entire time that she's being swarmed by people congratulating her, all she can think about is Hanni, standing close enough to touch.
Minji doesn't turn to look at her. Hanni doesn't try to get her attention. It doesn't bother her.
Minji leaves first, pulling off her helmet and letting the slight breeze cool the sweat beading at her hairline before she pulls on her cap. It’s easy to go through the motions of putting on her watch and accepting the microphone thrust into her hands, to give the typical diplomatic answers about the race.
She still doesn’t look at Hanni. Hanni doesn’t look at her. Minji sighs, and doesn’t stick around for Hanni’s interview.
There's a podium to get to.
–
Minji dreads stepping into the cool down room, where it’s just her and the other podium winners. Yunjin Huh is already there at least, filling the tense atmosphere with her loud ass voice as the television plays clips from the race. Her fireproof suit is already half unzipped, the top half draped around her waist, and she's sprawled out in the chair as best she can.
Yunjin yells out as a replay of a lap one crash plays before she turns to greet Minji with a wide, cheeky grin.
“Hey, Minji, good job out there! I almost had you at the end,” Yunjin says teasingly and Minji scoffs out a laugh.
“In your dreams,” she scoffs as she puts her helmet down and pulls the podium cap over her helmet hair, but she’s grateful for Yunjin’s teasing for once. It loosens the tightness in her chest. The ‘2nd’ printed on the podium cap burns like a brand. She opens the collar of her race suit and uses it to fan cool air against her chest and neck.
The Mercedes driver just beams back at her when she turns around.
“Great defense though, really,” Yunjin sighs, always dramatic, and slumps in her chair even more. “It's frustrating but like, in a good way.”
Minji laughs at that as she sits down next to Yunjin. “You had some pretty good attempts. Made me work for it.”
Yunjin grins in response. “Thanks I worked–oh hey Hanni! Congrats!”
Minji turns so fast she almost gets whiplash.
Hanni clears her throat as she stands with her helmet in hand and it feels like all the air has been sucked out of the room. Their eyes meet for a tense moment, Yunjin’s gaze nervously ping-ponging between them.
Minji nods sharply, suddenly very aware of the camera pointed at them.
“Congratulations,” she says, and even she can tell that it comes out clipped.
Hanni just smiles back at her, cocky, and Minji grits her teeth, hiding it behind a strained smile.
She shouldn't be angry. But every interaction feels like betrayal–like the twisting of the knife that was lodged in her two years ago. She smolders while Hanni pulls on her own matching hat and downs a bottle of water, still wearing that self-assured grin, but Minji can't help but feel the tug of longing in her chest.
It used to be so easy.
Now it's like when they didn't know each other. No, it's worse than when they didn't know each other.
It's not like she didn't know Hanni, before. The world of motorsports is small and everyone's competed against each other at some point in karting or Formula 3 or when they were children in diapers or whatever. But it wasn't until Milton Keynes, in their teenage years, that they'd really gotten to know each other.
Sure they'd been in adjacent social circles, interacting briefly on the track in karting, following each other to the same junior categories. They’d grown up on the periphery of each other’s lives, which was an intimacy in a way, but they weren’t friends, distant rivals at best maybe.
Minji had been one year into the Red Bull Racing driver development programme when Hanni joined, moving into the small living complex at Milton Keynes where the other junior drivers resided. Hanni smiled at her with an awkward, boxy smile when they were introduced, and Minji sized her up for what she was at the time–competition–and a real threat at that because Hanni was actually good.
So they hadn’t talked much that first month, mostly on Minji’s part. It was dangerous to get too close, too friendly, to someone she’ll fight with on track. She needed a clear head and feelings, especially someone else’s feelings, could cost her in a race.
The knock had come late at night, interrupting Minji’s staring at her empty suitcase and the clothes strewn around her room. It’d been more difficult than she thought, packing for her first race in Formula 3. It was another step closer to Formula 1, with the dangling carrot of a promotion to Formula 2 tangible and real in front of her. But then, she couldn’t even get started, not with packing, not with moving forward, too paralyzed with worry.
What if she wasn’t good enough? What if she crashes and burns? What if this is as good as it gets?
She was barely thinking when she answered the door, but she was quickly startled out of her thoughts.
“I just wanted to see if you needed help packing,” Hanni said, with the same boxy smile. She twisted her fingers together almost nervously as she stood in the hallway, shifting her weight from one foot to the other in a gawky teenage way.
She was, and still is, several centimeters shorter than Minji, and as Minji looked down, she considered closing the door. But in that moment she was too caught off guard, too raw, to say no.
She stepped aside and let Hanni in.
Later, when Minji’s bag was mostly packed, they sat next to each other on the floor, their backs leaning against Minji’s bedframe, talking quietly about racing, life, and everything in between.
“Who did you like? Michael Schumacher? Jihyo Park?” Minji asked. Even though they were there for Red Bull she could see Hanni liking a Ferrari driver. It seemed to fit her vibe. She could picture Hanni in the classic red race suit.
Hanni shook her head, looked down almost bashfully with a small smile.
“I started in RC racing actually,” Hanni said, and Minji could feel her eyebrows raise. “But I went to see karting once and decided I wanted to do that.”
“Really?”
“Yeah,” Hanni said, a pretty flush dusting her cheeks, and she rubbed the back of her neck almost sheepishly. “Uh, I saw you racing actually. You won too.” She laughed then, maybe suddenly self aware, and looked up at Minji. “Is it stupid that I came over tonight just to say hi?”
“No,” Minji said, maybe a bit too quickly. She was sure that her flush mirrored Hanni’s. She cleared her throat, nudged Hanni with her elbow. “And I know who you are.”
“Oh. Cool.” Hanni’s nonchalant answer couldn’t hide her grin, hope coloring her features.
Minji couldn’t help but smile back.
It was easy to become friends after that. That season, and the years that followed, are laughter-tinged and rose-tinted in Minji’s memory, even if they aren’t statistically her best. Of course Minji loved winning. She wanted–wants–more than anything, to win. But having someone else with her, pushing her forward to do better… for the first time, it’d been fun.
They'd promised, in Minji's small apartment before Minji was set to move up to F2 and Hanni to F3, that they'd go to Formula 1 together. Be teammates together. It was safe under the cover of darkness for Minji to admit what she really wanted. Their hands had been intertwined, held tight with one another, and Minji’s chest was tight with an emotion she could not name.
It was easy then. Light.
She doesn't know if they can ever go back.
In the cool down room, Hanni drops down into the seat next to her, and Minji sneaks a glance then. Hanni looks good, having cut her hair shorter, sweat dripping down the line of her neck, her cheeks still flushed from the heat. She tips water into her mouth before she takes her cap off and runs a hand through her hair.
Something twists uncomfortably in Minji's stomach, but she can’t look away. Her mouth feels dry despite her taking sips from the water bottle provided. Maybe it’s the sharp taste of bitterness in the back of her teeth. She huffs, sharp and short through her nose.
Hanni turns then, her eyes meeting Minji’s, and Minji immediately looks straight ahead at the screen, hums noncommittally as Yunjin says something about an overtake, ignoring the heat that rushes to her cheeks and ears as she feels Hanni’s gaze on her.
She lets Yunjin fill the silence with her ongoing commentary of race highlights and prays that they’re called to the podium soon. Soon, she feels Hanni look away from her, saying something cheeky to Yunjin. Minji doesn’t risk looking over again and instead leans her head against the back of the chair, looks up at the ceiling, and wishes things could be different.
One race down.
Only twenty-three to go.