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Sebastian doesn’t think there ever was one particular, bolt-of-lighting type of moment when he realized that racing cars was his destiny. But if his life depended on him pinpointing exactly when his passion for speed and racing started, it’d surely have to be Rallye Deutschland.
The event is a huge deal around where he lives, crowds pouring in from all over the country to watch the race. Some special stages are not very far away from Heppenheim, and Seb has fond memories of traveling with his family and camping out in the woods to make sure that they’d have front row seats when the action would take place.
It’s probably during one of those trips that Seb decides he wants to visit all the countries that the World Rally Championship does one day but not just as a spectator. He wants to go as a driver and maybe bring back home a few trophies if he’s good enough.
His father notices his growing interest in cars and suggests they should pop by the local karting track on a Sunday. Seb gives it a go but it doesn’t appeal to him the same way that rallying does. It’s easy to keep control of the kart in a purpose-built track; the thrill of pushing yourself to your absolute limits in a rally car where instead of barriers and gravel traps you’ve got trees, rocks and cliffs to worry about if you make a mistake is impossible to find anywhere else.
“Not very impressed, huh?” his dad smiles sadly as Seb climbs out of the kart, a frown etched between his brows. As much as he tries to hide it, Norbert looks disappointed. After all, single-seaters have always been his own passion and perhaps if he had the budget when he was young, he could be making a career out of racing now. Sebastian is grateful for the fact that his dad is trying to give him the opportunity that he never had and absolutely hates the idea that somehow he let his dad down. But he also knows that if he’s going to be serious about this, he needs to be in love with it completely, and karting isn’t where his heart lies.
He shrugs a shoulder, heaving out a sigh. “It’s not the same” he says and Norbert seems to understand perfectly what he means.
He gives Seb’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “We’ll find what’s right for you” he promises and ten-year-old Seb grins up at him toothily.
His dad goes to speak to the owner of the track, who turns out to be a former racer himself. He has connections to some major racing series and knows the right people. He gives Seb some tips and a rough plan to follow if he really wants to do this on a professional level.
And Seb… Seb has never wanted anything more in his life.
They manage to find a second-hand rally car at a reasonable price and Sebastian practices with it on every possible surface; gravel, tarmac, even snow and ice. It’s not the most fun thing he’s ever done but his dad keeps reminding him that good things take time. Plus, it’s hardly a waste of time because when Sebastian turns eighteen and gets his driver’s license, meaning that he’s finally eligible to compete in regional championships, he’s well prepared and much more experienced in all sort of conditions than many of his rivals.
His sisters take turns co-driving while he’s still racing in the junior series. Then, someone from the European Rally Championship is willing to give him a chance and Sebastian gets a proper co-driver as well as a proper car. Though the ERC is nowhere near the WRC coverage-wise, Sebastian enjoys not being on the spotlight constantly and racing around tiny villages in Europe is amazing.
Working with the team is nice, too. They’re all great guys, fun to be around and deeply passionate for what they do. His engineers and mechanics appreciate all the feedback that Sebastian is able to give them, often joking that the young German is just some AI that taught itself how to drive and collect data.
Race weekends are Seb’s favorite part of the week. He drives instinctively, knowing exactly when to push and when to be smart and stay out of trouble. He spends three years in the ERC, winning a handful of races, and narrowly misses out on the title twice.
It hits him, then; he’s not going to make it to the big league. If he was good enough, he’d have been picked up by someone from WRC by now. He’s not old -not by any means- but driving his heart out on every single race apparently isn’t enough for him to be noticed. He doesn’t have anything more to give so he shouldn’t get his hopes up.
“Oi, someone’s in a bad mood!” his teammate chirps in his ear, winding an arm around Sebastian’s shoulders and smirking brightly. They’re at the end-of-season party their team insisted on throwing, presumably as a thank you to everyone that traveled to the races as well as everyone back at the factory. Sebastian didn’t feel like celebrating but he came anyway because the guys worked hard throughout the year and they deserve this. Also, alcohol is a great distraction.
He forces a smile at Lewis’ way. “Not all of us had an absolutely perfect season.” As if the guy is going to understand; he’d won the championship -again- and has his shiny future all lined up and ready to go. A multiple-year contract with Toyota is way more than any rookie has the right to ask for and people are already labeling him as the next best thing, a champion in the making.
Lewis, though, actually looks concerned. “What are you on about?” he frowns. “You had some phenomenal performances and you had worse reliability than me. No one expected you to be in contention for the championship till the last race but you were right up there.”
Sebastian gives it some thought. Lewis is making it sound as if he had a season to be proud of but all Sebastian remembers is mounting frustration and anger at things slipping out of his control.
He smiles at his teammate more genuinely this time and gives him a friendly pat on the back; he doesn’t want to ruin Lewis’ night. “Have fun in WRC” he wishes him and then turns to leave.
“You’ll have your chance, too, sooner or later!” Lewis calls after him but Sebastian just pretends he doesn’t hear him over the music and people talking.
He chats to a few engineers and team members and then he decides he need more champagne. At least, admitting to Lewis that he failed didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would.
When Sebastian wakes up the next morning, it’s because his phone is screaming bloody murder. He groans, terribly annoyed by the loud sound but he makes no move to stand up. Whoever is calling him at this ungodly hour will eventually get bored and leave him alone.
He sighs happily when his phone finally ceases ringing and rolls onto his side, wanting to continue sleeping for a little longer. It’s not like he has anywhere he needs to be, anyway.
He’s just gotten comfortable when his ringtone goes off again. Sebastian lets out a frustrated grunt but this time he does kick the bed sheets aside and goes to pick it up.
He doesn’t remember where he left his phone when he got back from the party last night; to be fair, he doesn’t remember most of the night, either. In hindsight, he shouldn’t have drunk so much as the hungover is now hitting him like a ton of bricks. But it seemed like a good idea at the time and it’s been a long time since Sebastian allowed himself to let loose and have fun like this.
He finds his phone in the pocket of the jacket that he was wearing last night and quickly swipes up to answer it. “Hello?” he says and even he can’t believe how raspy his voice sounds.
“Sebastian. You’re up early” she greets him, sarcasm dripping from her tone, and Sebastian blinks.
“Britta?” Why is his press agent calling him this early in the morning? Or evening. Or whatever the hell the time actually is.
“I thought you were on holiday.” He’d given her a generous bonus when winter break started and told her to spend it on a lavish trip with this new boyfriend of hers. She does so much for him during the season that Sebastian felt it was only fair that she gets to enjoy herself in the off-season.
She snorts down the line. “As if working with you isn’t a full-time job. I swear, sometimes it feels like I’m caring for a baby!” Though it’s true that Sebastian is probably a headache to work with, she says the last part with fondness and Sebastian can’t help but smile. He truly doesn’t know what he would do without her.
“Listen.” Suddenly, her voice becomes much more serious and a bad feeling crawls up Sebastian’s spine. “Something’s up with Hyundai. Their esteemed lead driver has ditched them at the last minute and they’re looking for a replacement. I got a call from them this morning. Apparently, they want to meet with you.”
Sebastian’s eyes widen comically. There’s no way he’s not still sleeping. “With me? Britta, are you sure?”
“Positive, wonder boy.” Her grin can be practically heard. “I got you a meeting in their facilities for this afternoon. Which…” There’s a brief pause as if she’s checking her watch. “…should give you a little over four hours to get ready and drive there. I’ll email you the details in a bit.”
“Thank you” Sebastian mumbles politely, although his brain is barely registering what she says.
“You’re welcome, now excuse me, I have better things to do with my time.”
Sebastian smirks. “Where even are you?”
“Bali” she chuckles. “Some obnoxious luxury resort that’s apparently not to be missed. I’m sorry but you can’t just give me half your annual salary and expect me to spend it sensibly.”
“With the mysterious boyfriend that I’m yet to meet?” Sebastian presses on mischievously. “At this point, I honestly doubt that he’s a real person.”
“Aaand, that’s my cue to leave!” Britta exclaims far too cheerfully for someone who supposedly has nothing to hide. “Good luck, Sebastian, I’m sure you’ll look absolutely dazzling in peach orange or whatever the hell Hyundai decide to paint the car this year.” With that, she hangs up, not even bothering with a goodbye.
Sebastian has the sudden urge to sit down or he might collapse to the floor. But he’s pretty certain the amount of alcohol that he consumed last night is no longer to blame for his lightheadiness.
He calls his brother and demands that he get here as soon as he possibly can. Fabian is not really helpful, to be honest, teasing Seb for his fashion taste and suggesting that he should turn up wearing a floral shirt and cargo pants. But Sebastian knows he’s just trying to soothe his nerves before this important meeting. Plus, he makes sure that Seb eats something before they leave and offers to drive on the way to the factory. So, Sebastian is actually quite grateful for him.
Hyundai’s headquarters are located in Alzenau so it takes only half an hour or so for the two siblings to get there from Sebastian’s apartment in Frankfurt.
Sebastian stares up at the enormous building and swallows audibly. It’s starting to feel less and less like a dream and more like it can actually be happening with every passing second and Sebastian really doesn’t want to waste the opportunity that presented itself to him. There’s no guarantee he’ll ever get another one.
“We’re here, then” he states the obvious as Fabian kills the engine and turns to look at him. Sebastian sighs, “I’m going.”
“Wait.” Fabian reaches out and hugs him firmly. “Good luck.”
Some other time, Sebastian would’ve made a joke about not needing it but today that would be a big, fat lie. He’s going to need all the luck in the world to convince the bigwigs of Hyundai to invest in him.
He’s greeted by some friendly-looking lady at the reception, who asks for his personal information and then gestures at the waiting lounge and tells him to get comfortable. Sebastian dutifully does as he’s told and hopes he looks calmer than he feels.
Some painfully long minutes later, a man walks up to him with a wide smile on his face. “Sebastian, right? Sebastian Vettel?” He shakes Seb’s hand politely and introduces himself. Sebastian keeps up with the WRC, though; he knew already that the man is Hyundai’s team principal.
They go upstairs to his office so that they can speak in private. He asks about Sebastian’s season that just went by and, quite frankly, Sebastian is surprised. The guy has the reputation of being cold and emotionless but he actually comes across as a thoughtful person.
“So, Sebastian.”
The tone of the conversation seems to shift suddenly; they were chatting lightheartedly but now it’s obviously time to discuss business. Sebastian sucks in a deep breath, bracing himself.
“I presume you’ve heard the news? Why we called you here and all that.”
Sebastian nods.
“Right” the man says bitterly. Sebastian is pretty certain his annoyance isn’t directed at him but at their previous driver who decided to jump ship at such short notice. The new season is only a couple of weeks away, after all. “Though we’re a bit understaffed in the driving area at the moment, we fully intend to have three cars on the start line in Monte Carlo. We’re really impressed by what you’ve done in the ERC, Sebastian.”
Sebastian smiles lopsidedly. “Thank you, but I think you overestimate me. Apart from some podiums and a couple of wins here and there, I haven’t been hugely impressive.”
The man cocks his head to the side, clearly not approving of with the way Seb talks about himself. “I think you’re selling yourself short, Sebastian. But anyway, what’s done is done. Your partnership with Hyundai is a clean slate.”
Sebastian’s pupils blow wide. “My what?”
The man furrows his brow confused. “Your… partnership with us? I thought it was clear we’re offering you a contract.”
Sebastian’s heart might’ve as well stopped. “No, it’s alright” he attempts to apologize, feeling embarrassed. “I’m sorry, I’m just slow sometimes.”
The man laughs kindly. “It’s fine, we’ve all been there. I used to race too, you know?” Sebastian recalls reading that somewhere. “I don’t expect an answer right now, of course. I’ve prepared a draft of the contract for you to go through.” He hands Sebastian a thin manila envelope. “Check if there’s anything you’re not happy about, take your time and get back to me, preferably before Rally Monte Carlo gets underway, yes?”
Sebastian is well aware of his ability -or rather, lack thereof- to negotiate any of the team’s terms but Britta will kill him if he signs a contract before checking in with her first.
He smiles brightly at the man. “Thank you.”
“Well, well. If that’s not Sebastian Vettel.”
Sebastian looks up from where he’s working under the bonnet of the car and beams when he realizes his former teammate is standing next to him. “Lewis!”
He jumps to his feet, wiping his hands carelessly on his fireproofs, and reaches out to hug the other man tightly. “It’s good to see you.”
“It’s good to see you, too, man.” Lewis’ grin is as bright as Seb’s. “I told you someone would be willing to give you a shot eventually. They’d be mad not to.”
Sebastian hums noncommittally. No matter how many times he hears others sing his praises, he doesn’t think he’ll ever consider himself to be as good as they claim him to be. It’s alright, though, because it pushes him to constantly try to learn from his mistakes and improve.
“So, what were you doing before I interrupted you?” Lewis asks curiously, approaching to take a look at the car.
“Repair work” Sebastian sighs. “There was some strange noise coming from the engine during the recce.”
Lewis’ eyebrows shoot up so high they almost disappear under his beanie. “You do know this is not the car you’re going to drive during the rally, right? It’s not your responsibility to fix it if something’s wrong with it.”
Sebastian blushes furiously. “I know” he whispers, his fingers coming up to curl around his ear; a nervous habit of his. “But I like getting my hands dirty and I always fixed my own car in junior championships. My dad taught me how to do it, we were kinda low on budget. So, why bother the team with this on top of everything else?”
Lewis shrugs a shoulder, as if to say if it works for you, I’m fine with it. Sebastian, though, thinks there’s definitely something wistful glimmering in his eyes. After all, most of them come from incredibly humble backgrounds and their career was pretty much a family business.
“Anyway, I should be getting back. Bono wants to check my notes for the umpteenth time today and he’s probably gonna kill me if I make up another excuse to avoid it” Lewis laughs, and Sebastian lets out a quiet giggle, as well; Lewis met his co driver when he was very young and the relationship the two of them have is actually adorable.
“Okay. Don’t be a stranger, come and say hi in the Service Park.” Sebastian hugs him again.
Lewis smirks. “Am I not supposed to be your enemy?”
Sebastian smirks back. “You do know what they say; keep your friends close, and your enemies closer.”
Lewis gasps dramatically and touches his chest, as if Sebastian’s words hurt him immensely. “For three years, I posed as your number one supporter and this is what I get as a thank you. How dare you, Vettel!”
“Just go already!” Sebastian shoves him towards his car even as he’s laughing. “I thought Bono was going to kill you.”
“Fine” Lewis sighs. “You’re no fun at all.” He starts walking in the direction his Yaris is parked, then spins on his heel and winks playfully at Seb. “Try not to be last on Sunday, okay?”
Sebastian grins. “I didn’t make it to Monte Carlo with minimal time in the factory and zero practice only to finish last on the most historic rally. In fact, you should be watching out for me.”
Almost halfway into the season, and Sebastian still can’t believe this is real. He spends as much time in the factory as he possibly can, he practices in the simulator to get to grips with the handling of the car, he trains, he pores over data, he tries to improve his pace notes… And yet, he feels more like a normal guy having fun doing what he loves most and less like a professional racing driver.
His results are good enough for the team to want to keep him beyond this year; lately, they’ve started talking about a contract extension. His first win remains elusive since Sebastian is still inexperienced and the car can’t challenge for victories consistently. But that’s alright; Sebastian waited his whole life to get here, he can wait a couple of years more.
For the time being, it’s all about learning and having fun. Dusty roads and muddy forests are his happy place; rough asphalt and snow banks are where he feels at home.
Forty, left five minus over crest, opens over forty…
Right three tightens, ninety, left four plus into hairpin…
Right two don’t cut, left four short cut maybe, triple caution over crest…
Another gear change, another hit of the breaks. Another sharp turn, more time to find. Nothing else matters apart from the road up ahead, time and time again, trying to be perfect special stage after special stage.
The scenery flies past him outside the window, the engine revving beautifully underneath him and the world shrinking till it’s just him and the car. Sebastian grips the steering wheel tighter and smiles into his helmet.