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Barcelona, February 2022 - Formula 1 Winter testing

NEIL

As he turns the car’s ignition off, Neil Hatford leans back into the headrest and closes his eyes. It’s quiet in the parking lot around him, and he enjoys the silence while it lasts.

It’s a bright, crisp, sunny morning in Barcelona. Barely 7 am and not many people were around except for the circuit’s staff. He doesn’t have to be in his garage for another two hours, so he takes his time and savours the moment. 

Eleven months ago, Kevin Day sent him a text five years after they last talked. 

I need to talk to you.

Every hope Neil once had he’d given up a long time ago. Both of his parents had made sure of it. And when he’d finally freed himself from their grip, he had been old enough to know his childhood dreams would not come true. 

So when Kevin had called him that night asking him if he wanted to join a Formula 1 team, Neil had laughed at his face and hung up. What right had Kevin to come back after years of silence with a proposition like that when he no longer had a career of his own? It was a pipe dream, and Neil would not let himself hope again. He knew better by now.

But he should have known; Kevin had always been a stubborn asshole. He had called again and again before finally showing up at Stuart’s front door one morning, demanding to see Neil in person. Even then, it had taken Stuart and Katelyn’s every effort of persuasion to seat the four of them around the Formica kitchen table. 

At first sight, Kevin had not changed much in five years. His green eyes and black hair were the same, and, sure, he’d gained a few more centimetres, his neck and shoulders were bulkier than before, but he’d always been built like this. As Kevin talked, though, Neil soon realised how much the man in front of him was different from the child he’d grown up with. Kevin, at 17, had been cocky and proud, carrying the self-assurance of the prodigy, son of a racing legend that he was, confident about his knowledge and skills. Kevin, at 22, was barely more than a shadow. Dark marks under his eyes, hunched over the table, a 6’2” man looking small somehow, lost in Stuart’s giant kitchen, his left hand carefully hidden in the pocket of his jean jacket. Looking at him had been unbearable, and after a few minutes of observations, Neil had drowned out the rest of the room, focusing on the rolling of the sea visible through the window. 

What had caught his attention back had been the contract Kevin had pulled out of his backpack. His hand is still on the stack of papers. Kevin had watched Neil expectantly. 

“My father and I bought the Palmetto racing team. It’s all set and ready for development, we only need another driver. There’s a seat for you if you want it.” 

But there was only one question turning in Neil’s head, over and over again, like the rolling of the waves down the cliff. 

“Why me?” 

Kevin looked him in the eyes, and for a second, there was a glimpse of the old Kevin, the one Neil would have followed to the end of the world if needed. 

“You’re the only driver I know who’s both skilled and mad enough to be willing to defy Riko.” 

And what choice Neil had, other than smile and sign. 

Eleven months later, his hand on the handle of his car, the mixed feeling of pure exhilaration and blind terror that washed over him back then is still there, deep in his guts. As good as Neil had been at 14, there was no assurance he could be back to his previous level now. After years away from the professional circuit, his reflexes were long gone, along with his physical condition. Before the first tryouts a few months back, he’d never been driving a Formula 1 car in his life. Even after a year of intensive, Kevin-supervised training, he’s still vastly underprepared for what is waiting for him, he knows as much. Yet, as he gets out of his car, anticipation crawls down his spine, and he smiles. 

The parking lot is empty at this hour. Neil wanders, his bag on the shoulder, passing by the paddock entry, through the pit lane, to the starting grid. He’s not sure he’s allowed to be there, but there’s no one around as he jumps the barrier and comes to sit in the pole sitter position. Hands pressed on the asphalt behind his back, he looks up and imagines the five start lights turning on one by one before going out simultaneously. 

He stays there for a while, daydreaming before reality calls him back. The noise intensifies, bringing the circuit to life as people arrive and bustle in the garages, pits, and official buildings. Neil takes it as his cue to stand up and make his way to his garage. 

When he enters, mechanics are already at work on both cars, prepping them for the first tryout session later in the morning. 

Not for the first time since he has woken up this morning, Neil has the urge to pinch himself when he sees his face displayed above his box, next to Kevin’s. He had felt very uncomfortable during the photo shoot, much more accustomed to being discreet and withdrawn than asserting himself and playing a role in front of a camera. But now, even he has to admit the result looks good, if not a bit too dramatic. That is nothing compared to the sight that waits for him inside the garage, though.

In Neil’s unbiased opinion, the Fox W22 is the most beautiful car in the world. The entire car is painted a glossy, bright black from the front to the rear wing. Bright orange lines elegantly follow the curves of the cockpit before disappearing at the back, hidden behind the Palmetto logo, repeated multiple times in a canvas that covers the engine. Large stickers on the front of the car and both sides of the cockpit display Neil’s number, the 10, written in the same vivid orange, the team’s colour. The tires are not on yet, hidden under their electric blankets to stay warm for the first testing session in a few hours.  

Neil stops in front of the car. Mechanics come in and out of the garage around him, all wearing the same team uniform. Most of them stop to greet him on their way, and he bumps fists with them without really paying attention, his mind focused on the single-seater. Slowly he looks up and takes in the entire box. The team colour code is everywhere. The box is surrounded by large black partitions, with blue details and the brand logo repeated as much as possible. On the walls, large screens already describe statistics about the circuit, the vehicles, the weather and the strategies envisaged. The workbenches with the mechanics’ tools and the tires stand in the back. Once the season starts, this is where Neil’s mechanics will follow the races, ready to react in a few moments to prepare for the pit stops. Next, a passage gives access to Kevin’s box on the other side of the partition, and between the two, a glass door gives access to the rest of the Palmetto motorhome. It smells like racing fuel, brake cleaner and burnt rubber and to Neil, it’s the best smell in the world. It smells like home; it will be close to one for the next ten months. Everything here will be dismantled and reassembled to follow him from one end of the world to the other to the circuits.  

All of it is his. His team of mechanics, his box, his car. With his name on it, not his dreaded birth name, but the name he has chosen for himself, the name his real family gave him. Neil feels the sudden urge to grab his helmet and jump into the car to get back on the track without waiting another minute. 

This moment of grace is interrupted by Kevin (obviously).

“You could try to win races by looking at it very hard or move and get to work. Let me know what works best.” 

“Good morning to you, sunshine. I was waiting for you, actually. Want to go on a track walk?” 

“Later, I took a look on the way over here; I need to say a word to the race directors before the drivers’ meeting starts. Some of the asphalt is in awful condition.” Neil tunes Kevin out while he starts rambling about asphalt texture, and they make their way together to the motorhome. They still have an hour before the meeting, so Neil drops his bag in his break room, throws his sneakers on, and after picking up Colby, his newly appointed race engineer, on the way, they both go on a quick run around the circuit. The Barcelona track is a little less than 3 miles, and running helps to clear Neil’s head, so they take their time, falling into a comfortable pace, identifying the braking marks at each corner, and commenting on the racing line and the peculiarities of the circuit.

They will have to do it again later at a smaller pace, but for now, he needs to blow off some steam and act on his adrenaline before he meets the other drivers and has to sit for two long hours of driver briefing. 

He returns to the garage, feeling much calmer, with just enough time for a quick shower before leaving for the briefing. Kevin catches up, and together, they make their way to the FIA motorhome. When they arrive in the meeting room, only some of the 20 drivers of the grid are present. Neil recognises most of them, having followed the competition long before he could take part in it. Some of them, like Danielle Wilds, Allison Reynolds and Renee Walker, enthusiastically catching up in a corner, have been on the grid for years. When teammates Jeremy Knox and Matt Boyd enter the room after Kevin, Neil’s head starts spinning as he quickly calculates how many world championships they won between them. He leans against a wall in a corner and watches as people slowly gather in the small conference room. When she sees Neil, Thea Muldani nods in his direction but doesn’t try to talk to him, which he’s grateful for. They were never close, even as children, and there’s no point pretending now. He receives a few curious glances and welcoming gestures, but they all leave him alone. 

It’s starting to feel a little too packed for Neil to be comfortable, and Katelyn’s arrival happens with perfect timing. She strides into the room with a loud greeting and immediately makes a beeline for Neil, a large grin on her face. She hugs him tightly like she didn’t see him for years, even though they last saw each other only the night before and not for the first time, Neil feels deeply grateful that she’s here with him. However, they don’t have much time to chat because Kevin suddenly appears to grab Neil’s arm and starts grabbing him in the direction of the three men who just arrived. 

At first glance, German drivers Andrew and Aaron Minyard were not unlike the twins in Shining: mirrors of each other, poker-faced and scary. Hired by Eden’s Formula1 Racing team last season, they formed one of the most feared line-ups of the grid. Blond hair, short height, similar red coloured fireproofs and race suits, constantly attached by the hip, most people struggled to tell them apart on race weekends. If you paid attention and followed their stats, however, you knew they couldn’t be more different. 

Aaron’s driving style was mainly offensive, ruthless, and sometimes borderline aggressive on the track. He’d repeatedly proven he could start a race at the end of the grid to claw his way back up in the ranking. It clashed with an overall likeable public persona, always polite and well-put, the perfect prospect of a future son-in-law. On the other hand, Andrew was always precise, sharp and defensive. Generally quiet and expressionless, sometimes a little rude, he’d always made it clear that driving was the only part he was interested in. The rest he would get over without really trying. In the car, though, Andrew had the best defence skills of the entire grid, in Neil’s opinion. You had to be an excellent driver to overtake Andrew Minyard if he didn’t want to let you through, which happened less and less these days. 

The twins don’t pause as they pass through the door and make their way to the back of the room. Their cousin Nicky Hemmick trails after them, trying to wave and greet every other person in the room as fast as possible. A few pilots wave back at Nicky and pat Aaron on the back, but none of them tries to talk to Andrew as he walks right past them. None but Kevin. 

“Hello, Andrew,” he says, posting himself purposely in Andrew’s way to stop his progression. Andrew watches him, a bored expression on his face. 

“Kevin.” 

“This is Neil; I don’t think you’ve met each other before.” 

Andrew turns his head to look at Neil, standing awkwardly on the side, his biceps still caged in Kevin’s grip. As hazel eyes pierce through his skull, he mumbles a small hello before trying to return to Katelyn’s side, but Kevin only holds him tighter. 

“Kevin’s new toy.” 

Neil is too busy to throw Kevin a reproachful look to understand right away he’s just been insulted by Kevin’s former best friend. When he does realise, after a few seconds of painful silence, he frowns and Kevin tense. 

Andrew is a few inches smaller than Neil but levels him with his stare nonetheless. Neil has had his fair share of bullies, though, and he’s not about to let himself be intimidated so early in the season. 

“Aren’t you a fucking delight,” he says before turning to Kevin. “Is that why you two stopped talking to each other? Because of his brilliant personality?” 

Because Neil always had perfect timing in life, it’s the moment Aaron chooses to join them. 

“And who the fuck are you?”

“I’m apparently your doppelganger’s stand-in, and he doesn’t seem to take it that well.” 

“You’re definitely a substitute, but certainly not Andrew’s.” 

Kevin’s grip on Neil’s arms tightens even more as he tries to interject, and it’s starting to be quite painful, but Neil pays him no mind. Whatever Aaron meant by that, though,  is lost when the atmosphere in the room shifts. 

The last two drivers of the grid just arrived and are making a beeline straight to their little group. Neil is thankfully not the centre of attention as Riko Moriyama and Jean Moreau stop before Kevin. 

“Kevin,” Riko says in a light tone, “I didn’t want to believe it until I saw it with my own eyes. You are back. I’m so glad.” Kevin turns white, and his left-hand leaves Neil’s arm to disappear into the front pocket of his hoodie. 

Eighteen months ago, Kevin Day had a karting accident during the summer break and had to give up on his season and Formula 1 seat. The news had made the front page of all the sports press because he was not just anyone. Son of a motorsport legend, Kevin Day had everything to become a legend himself, barely a year after arriving in Formula 1. He and Riko had formed the strongest rookie line-up in decades. But it was all thrown out the window when Kevin got injured in a stupid, friendly off-season go-kart competition.

Most people found the news heartbreaking. Some had blamed it on Kevin’s youth, others on karma or the karting venue. Kevin’s team had put the incident down to the tendency of younger drivers to lack self-preservation. 

Some knew the truth was a lot different than the story told in the papers. 

Riko embraces Kevin, and only Neil is close enough to hear his following words. 

“I honestly thought you wouldn’t have the guts to come back here. I’m almost impressed.” 

Kevin visibly flinches, and Andrew steps in their direction before Aaron stops him. Kevin looks close to a mental breakdown, and Neil takes it as his cue.

“Hello Riko, Jean,” he says, in the most cheerful tone he can manage, waving at a grim-looking Jean posted behind Riko. “Don’t I get a hug, too?” 

Jean’s scowl deepens as if it were possible, and Riko ignores him, keeping his eyes on Kevin. And Neil’s starting to feel a little bit annoyed to be ignored, particularly by the men he came here to annoy, so he pushes himself between the two ex-teammates and does what he knows best: trouble. 

“I heard you won last year’s championship, Riko; congratulations. World champion, wow! It must have been much easier without Kevin here to win everything.” Kevin and Jean both let out small gasps at that, and barely Neil stops an eye roll. 

“I hope you enjoyed it while it lasted since, you know, Kevin’s back now. Did your daddy tell you he was proud of you?” 

This triggers a reaction in Riko, as Neil knew it would. He tears his eyes from Kevin and reports them to Neil. 

“Nathaniel, it has been a while. You haven’t changed one bit. Come here.” Riko gets closer to Neil, pulls him in by the shoulders and lowers his voice. 

“You should be dead. That’s the only acceptable excuse you could have for dumping us and disappearing. And it looks to me that you’re not dead at all; in fact, you look very much alive, new name, big mouth and all. So that must mean you were too much of a coward to embrace the future we had planned for you, which makes you unworthy of my attention and your seat here. So keep quiet and pretty while the grown-ups are talking, don’t you?” 

Neil feels a humiliating feeling of injustice rising into him before he remembers he’s not 14 anymore. He knows better now than to think Riko could ever have provided him with a future. Riko reports his attention back to Kevin, and Neil prepares to verbally destroy him when Andrew beats him to it, shrugging Aaron’s hand off his shoulder. 

“Your little toxic one-man show is getting old, Riko. This is our workplace, not a kindergarten fantasy you grew up in your head, and you’re trying my patience already, so go sit somewhere else before I make you.” Riko must take the threat seriously because he quickly raises his hands and surrenders suspiciously easily. 

“Just welcoming some old friends, that’s it. I hope your new car is competitive enough to make it to the front, boys. I already know this season will be a lot of fun.” 

Neil is one second away from punching Riko very hard in the nose, something he has dreamt of doing his whole life when the FIA race directors finally enter the room to start the briefing. It shakes Kevin out of his numbness. He grips Neil’s shoulder before dragging him to sit - Neil will have to tell him to stop doing that - without another glance at Riko. He stays silent for the whole meeting, his jaw tight, and Neil doesn’t push, reporting his attention to the list of safety measures one steward started to enumerate. 

In a couple of hours, they will finally be on track, putting their cars to the test and making the last adjustments before the start of the season in a few weeks. Neil can’t wait. 

Chapter Text

KATELYN

Katelyn Hatford is a practical woman. She knows how much work it takes to achieve the results she’s aiming for. She knows the efforts and sacrifices she made, the ones she’s willing to do next and is perfectly aware she’s going to have to double it just because she’s a woman in a sport dominated by men. 

Katelyn knows what she wants and has no time for petty, toxic rivalries. And she would be so, oh, so grateful if her baby cousin, official trouble magnet, could stay out of them, too, so she wouldn’t have to worry so much.  

She manages 20 more push-ups than planned, only out of spite and pent-up anxiety before she gets up and starts stretching. Her trainer Gaby enters the small room and frowns. 

“You took your warm-up too far again, didn’t you?” 

Katelyn doesn’t even try to look guilty. She’s not going to apologise for being an overachiever. Gaby sighs and says, “don’t come crying to me when you pull something just before a race. You’ve gotta learn to manage your efforts; it’s the first weekend of the season, for christ’s sake.” 

Katelyn tries in vain to make her shoulders pop and groans in frustration. “I’ll be fine. My neck is tense as hell. Could you give me a hand here, please?” Gaby sighs again because she’s a drama queen but obliges. 

She makes her way to the starting grid before qualifications, her helmet under her arm when her second biggest problem appears at her side. 

“Hey,” Aaron Minyard says as he starts walking next to her. It’s the first time they’ve spoken to each other since November, and he looks… Well. His blond hair is cut shorter than in Barcelona, he’s still tanned from whatever sunny country he went on break to, he’s gained mass in his shoulders and neck again, and he has the audacity to smile at her. He looks fine as hell, and suddenly Katelyn is annoyed. The truth is, Katelyn likes Aaron. He’s rough around the edge and kind of an asshole, but he’s never pretending to be someone he isn’t, not with her, anyway. They’re friends. Maybe a little more than friends. Friends who slept together once. Or twice. Or perhaps a dozen times before, she didn’t count. Racing driver is a stressful job, okay, she has to let out some steam. But they’re only friends because she refuses to let herself get into something else, something complicated. They both have careers to focus on and dreams to accomplish, and she’ll have all the time to date people when she’s 40 and five times world champion. 

Besides, she’s mad at him. 

He must notice because his smile disappears, and he suddenly looks sheepish. 

“So, hum…” 

“You couldn’t stop yourself, couldn’t you? You had to be a dick with him on your first meeting?” 

“He went after my brother!”

“Because Andrew went after him first! “Kevin’s new toy”; what kind of fucked up welcome is that?” 

Aaron looks like he’s ready to argue and sighs. 

“I know your family matters a lot to you, so you will understand that I care about my own cousin, won’t you?” 

“I do. I’m sorry.” 

He hesitates and says, “Kevin called Neil for help instead of Andrew. I don’t think he’s taking it well.” 

“Kevin needed a free driver for his team. You both are under contract, aren’t you?” 

His face does a complicated thing when he says, “only for one more year.” 

She doesn't have time to interrogate him further, though, because they reach the end of the corridor leading to the starting grid. Before she makes her way to her car, Aaron calls for her. 

"We're good, right?" 

"Bully my baby cousin again, and I'll kill you." 

He nods and she smiles. 

"We're good." 

Katelyn's first quali session of the season is fine until it isn't. She manages Q1 without much struggle, but Q2 is a 20-minute-long succession of frustrations. The car works fine, but her grip is off, traffic and dirty air are all around her, and her time’s up before she even manages a decent lap. She doesn’t make it into Q3 by a margin, and her Saturday is over. The familiar feeling of disappointment comes back with force inside her guts, and she brings her car back to pit lane, her teeth clenched. It’s only the season’s first race; she’s got time to do better. 

As she passes through the Palmetto garage on her way back, she realises that Neil isn’t doing much better.

NEIL

“Shit,” Neil swears under his breath as his mechanics roll the car back inside the garage. His first quali session ever, and he didn’t make it to Q2. As much as it wasn’t a surprise - he is a rookie, after all -  Neil lets the frustration wash over him. The Barcelona testing had gone well, both for him and Kevin. The problem doesn’t come from the car; Kevin confirms it by beating every session’s time record, lap after lap. Meanwhile, Neil is back in the pit lane. 

The truth is, Neil should have known he would not make it to the front line on his first weekend, but this performance is far below his usual stats. It’s only more infuriating to know that his lack of experience is less responsible for this mess than the storm raging inside Neil’s head. 

“Neil, why not use your real name?” 

“Your father has been sentenced to perpetuity after killing one of his associates. Can you tell us more about this?” 

“Neil, you disappeared from the competition circuit for five years. Where have you been? Why leave the Moriyama academy?” 

“You have less experience than any other driver on the grid. Do you think you deserve your seat here?” 

Nathan Wesninski’s trial was a public affair, mainly in the UK and Japan, where his company was implanted. What had started as mundane tax evasion allegations about a respectable entrepreneur and family man deeply involved in his son’s racing career had turned into a complex case of murder and corruption. Every layer of Nathan’s past and links to the mafia had been laid out for the world to see, and his trial had made front covers for months. 

Nathaniel and his mother disappeared overnight. It was three years before anyone saw them until Nathaniel resurfaced as Neil, alone and without prospects. Stuart had done his best to protect his nephew from public scrutiny, adopting him legally and giving him his name. But even Stuart’s money and relations could not be enough to give Neil back what had been taken from him, not when Stuart already had his own daughter’s career to finance. That is until Kevin sent that damn text. 

Of course, the press found out immediately when the Palmetto line-up was announced. A new team in Formula 1 was always a significant event, but this was even more special. This was Kevin Day’s grand return, next to his inexperienced, long-forgotten son-of-a-criminal teammate. They were on every lip, every tweet, and every article. And now that the season’s started, Neil is slowly going crazy. He’s been stuck in an anxiety loop for the two weeks since Barcelona. He has lost focus, his mother’s I-told-you-so playing in repeat in his head. When he’s watching himself in a mirror, glimpses of his father appear again, making him jump out of his skin. He has nightmares of the trial almost every night. He hasn’t said anything to Katelyn or Kevin, even though the worried glances of one and the exasperated sighs of the other show that they know something’s up. They probably blamed it on pre-season anxiety and haven’t pushed the matter. 

“Kid, you’re planning to get out of this car anytime soon ?” 

Neil jumps as he feels someone knocking on the top of his helmet. He raises his head suddenly, startling David Wymack, the Palmetto team principal, who’s bending over the car. 

“Wow, easy. I just wanted to know, if you’re planning to hibernate in there, could we at least get your steering wheel back?” 

Mumbling an apology, Neil unplugs his steering wheel and extracts himself out of his car before pulling his helmet off. He exchanges a few words with his mechanics and follows Wymack to the pit wall to follow the end of the qualifications. Q2 has started, and Kevin is still collecting purple sectors, being the fastest on track each lap. After 18 months, it’s pretty impressive and only makes Neil slightly more disappointed with himself. 

“You want to tell me what’s happening in that big head of yours ?” Wymack says, eyes still fixed on the screen. 

“I’m fine.” 

At that, Wymack throws him a suspicious glance and says, “I’ve been watching you perform every day for a year, son. We both know you’re capable of so much better, but you’ve been making stupid mistakes all weekend, mistakes you’ve never done before. You fucked up free practice yesterday, and I don’t even want to mention what just happened. And don’t give me that rookie pressure bullshit because I don’t think you’re the kind of person to crack under pressure. Am I wrong ?” He stops, waiting for Neil’s answer, which never comes. “So tell me, what’s the matter with you ?” 

“I’m fine. I fucked up; that’s it. I’m going to do better tomorrow.” 

There’s silence for a few minutes. Kevin finished P1 in Q2 and is returning to the garage before Q3. Standing up from his stool, Wymack throws a last look at Neil. 

“Neither I or Kevin would have picked you for this team if we didn’t think you could pull this off. If you want to be a stubborn little shit and don’t want to tell me what’s wrong with you, solve it on your own. But do it quickly, and stop wasting everyone’s time.”

He leaves the wall and goes to Kevin’s garage, leaving Neil alone to watch the rest of Q3. Riko and Kevin battle for the pole position during the entire session until the last few seconds, where Riko sets the fastest time by a small margin.

After this, Neil is officially in a terrible mood. He sees Katelyn hesitating in the pit lane, unsure if she’s allowed to come in the adversary garage, and he pretends not to see her, leaving the garage by the back door instead. Then, when he sees who he’s been paired with for the pre-race press conference, it takes all of his strength not to punch something. 

He ignores Riko and Jack as he enters the press conference room, stopping only to say hello to Dan before taking his seat on the stage. As expected, at the first question about Neil’s performance, Riko doesn’t hold back. 

“Neil, how do you explain your poor results on your first qualification? Is it lack of experience, a car issue or something else ?”

Before Neil has time to say anything, Riko scoffs. “It’s obviously a driver issue, his teammate was doing just fine in the same car. Today’s quali only proves what everyone already knew. Drivers go through the other championships before Formula 1 for a reason, it allows us to get rid of the weak ones. Palmetto think they can bypass that rule because they’re a young team full of hope, but now, the reality is quickly catching up. He should surrender his seat right now to someone who actually has the skills to race with the best.” 

Neil clenches his fists but tries to keep his voice even. “You should let the actual best drivers decide, don’t you think, Riko?” 

Riko smirks. “I’ve got the number 1 on my cap, and I’m starting on pole tomorrow. Remind me, what’s your starting grid position again ?” 

At Riko’s left, Jack snickers loudly, and Neil snaps. 

“What the hell are you laughing about, asshole?” Annoyingly, his outburst only makes Jack snicker harder. 

Neil is mentally getting ready to storm off when Dan raises her mic. Her voice is cold, and everybody shuts up as she starts talking. 

“Because you’re a world champion, Riko, you should know winning comes with experience and hard work. Maybe you’ve forgotten what it was to be a new driver in F1, but I was there for your first race not so long ago when you came crashing into my teammate in a dangerous move because you could not keep your cool. From my point of view, you showed you still have a lot to learn, too.” Finally, she turns to the journalist who asked the question, “Neil should have the right to answer the question himself, but I think there’s no need to doubt a young driver’s skills before he even had the chance to drive his first race. Especially when this driver is still doing better than the other rookies on the grid.” 

There’s silence as no one dares to contradict her. Then, at some point, a journalist raises his hand. 

“Danielle, you’re starting P5 tomorrow. Think you’ve got a chance to win this one ?” 

Annoyance instantly bleeds out of Dan’s features, a grin appearing on her face before she answers. The press conference goes on, Neil starts answering all questions about his father with a blank stare, and soon enough, everyone ignores him. Once it’s over, he flees to his garage to prepare for the race with his team. 

That night, he stares at the ceiling for hours, waiting for sleep that never comes. 

The next day, when the lights turn off, and Neil reacts half a second too late, he knows this will be a difficult race. He barely keeps his position after the first corner, pushing too hard considering his tires’ temperature. Five laps in, he overtakes Thea’s car in front of him and quickly goes up on Renee’s. But he can also feel his own car slipping into the corners, the rear struggling to adhere correctly to the asphalt. 

Neil keeps pushing, overtaking Renée and preparing to battle with Matt in front of him. But if the Fox car is faster, the USC driver is more experienced and is known for his impeccable defence. Soon enough, Neil finds himself stuck behind Matt as the other man manages to close all the overtaking opportunities. Being this close to Matt’s single-seater for that long accelerates his pneumatics deterioration. After 15 laps of this battle and Matt not giving an inch, Neil’s car gradually slows down. 

Shit. 

“I’m losing pace! My tires are dead,” he cries out on his radio as he watches the USC car widen the gap and a few seconds later, Colby calls him back to the pit lane.

Neil throws his car into the pit lane, jumping on the brakes at the last minute to avoid exceeding the speed limit. His mechanics are ready, waiting for him with softs that will warm up quickly. The stop is perfectly executed, thankfully, and less than 3 seconds later, Neil is on his way back to the track. However, a pit stop so early in the race makes him lose all the positions he’s previously gained. He’s now running P19, second to last. After a few laps, in front of him, he sees Sarah Alvarez stop on the curb to retire her car in a cloud of black smoke. Soon enough, the safety car is deployed under a yellow flag so that the marshals can get the car out of the way, and as all drivers come in to change tires except for him, Neil sees his last hopes for a top-10 finish disappear. He isn’t allowed to overtake under safety car, and Bahreïn is a one-stop kind of track: none of the leaders will stop again until the end. 

Getting angrier by the minute, Neil pushes hard the moment the green flag is shown. Overtaking Sheena in front of him is long and painful, as he makes mistake after mistake, puts his tires on the kerb, constantly goes out of the race line, and accelerates too hard at the end of corners. 

“Neil, slow down to save tires, please.”

Neil groans in frustration, but he knows his engineer’s right. He can see the deterioration of the rubber from the corner of his eye. If his car performance is anything to go by, his rear tires are even worse. If he doesn’t slow down now, he risks a puncture, and will not finish the race. And there’s no way he doesn’t see the checkered flag today.

As Neil starts to think it couldn’t get any worse, a blue flag appears in his peripheral vision. 

“Fuck, you’ve got to be kidding me!” he swears as his radio cracks. 

“Blue flag, Neil. The leaders are coming behind you, step aside to let them through.” 

Sure enough, a few seconds later, Riko’s black Raven appears in his mirrors, closely followed by Jean’s. He’s officially one lap behind. As the two cars go past him at full speed, quickly followed by Knox’s USCs, he gets out of the way. Kevin is the last to go past him, chasing after Jeremy. 

Now following his own teammate with an entire lap between them, his tires in agony, it takes all of Neil’s determination not to give up on the spot. His arms are killing him, and he’s panting, having forgotten to catch his breath on the last two straight lines. Clenching his teeth, he forces himself to calm down. The race isn’t over yet. It won’t be easy, but he could still overtake one or two cars in front of him. 

He focuses on Kevin’s car trajectory, following while leaving enough space between them not to bother him and avoid the mistake he’s made behind Matt earlier. Kevin gains fast on Jeremy in front of him, and at his pace, he can try and overtake him before the end, securing third place on the podium. He gets closer and closer, pushing hard, until, ten laps to the end, Kevin’s rear tires lock up in the middle of a corner. Instead of taking back control of his car, as he would normally have, Kevin brakes violently, almost stopping in the middle of the track. Neil curses and suddenly changes course to avoid crashing into Kevin’s rear wing. 

“What the fuck is he doing ?!” Neil asks on the radio before going past Kevin, who seems frozen on the spot. Neil’s heart is hammering in his chest. If another car had been next to them at this moment, they would have been done for. 

It takes a few agonising seconds for Kevin to react, and he starts accelerating again finally. Still shaken, Neil lets him through once more before opening his radio again, “Colby, what the fuck just happened?”

“Don’t know yet,” his engineer replies. “Kevin’s not answering his radio at the moment. I’ll keep you updated. Nine laps to the end, push as hard as you can.” 

In the end, it isn’t enough for either of them. Because of his lockup, Kevin misses the podium, less than 0,2 seconds from Jeremy, while Neil fails to overtake another car, stuck in traffic with dying tires.

“That’s P17, Neil. Bring back the car to the pit lane, now, please.”

Post-race interviews are a blur. Overwhelmed by his disappointment, Neil answers questions curtly, unable and unwilling to explain what a mess that race has been. He spots Kevin from afar, clutching his hand, looking like he’s going to throw up. Neil knows the anger he can read on his teammate’s face mirrors his own. He lets Charlotte, their PR manager, deal with the last journalists and escapes to his locker room. The shower lasts long enough, so all the warm water is gone in then end, but when Neil gets out, he’s made up his mind. He puts his clothes on and crosses the motorhome to Wymack’s office as the staff is already starting to disassemble the structure. He knocks on the door and waits. 

Through the glass, his boss waves him in, a closed expression on his face. Neil takes one last deep breath and enters the room, closing the door behind him. Standing in front of the door, he says nothing at first before asking in a small voice, “what happened to Kevin?” 

“Scared himself. Had a flashback, apparently. Blacked out for a few seconds. I’ve got shit to do, Neil, did you want something?” he asks gruffly, not taking his eyes from his computer.

Before he can change his mind, Neil blurts, “Everyone knows. About my dad, the trial, everything. They know, but they don’t know me, for them I’m just the son of a murderer and a passable driver at best. That’s all they’re capable of talking about and I don’t think I can go through this again.”

“Neil”, Wymack starts, finally watching him.

“I can’t go through this again. Not now, not now that I’m finally here, and I don’t know if I can focus on racing when that happens, I’m already failing, and I’m scared it’s going to ruin everything if….” 

“Neil,” Wymack repeats louder, standing up. 

Neil stops talking. He feels his breath shorten, anxiety crushing his lungs. Not taking his eyes off Neil, Wymack pulls his phone out of his pocket, and dials quickly before putting the device to his ear. “Hey, could you come to my office right away, please? It’s kind of an emergency.” 

He hangs up and stays behind his desk,  which Neil is grateful for. 

“Neil, I understand this is a new concept to you, and it’s going to take some time for you to adjust, but you’re part of a team. Which means we win together and we lose together. No driver ever won a world championship or even a race on their own. Your job is to be focused on track and to drive the best you can. I need you to be able to do that; the team is counting on you. You leave the rest to us, you understand ?”

At this moment, there’s a knock on the door, and Charlotte enters the small room. With her phone in her hand, she looks at both men facing each other, assessing the situation without saying a word. Wymack doesn’t address her, his attention still focused on Neil. 

“Neil, look at me. If you have a problem with your car, you talk to your mechanics. If you disagree with race strategy, you talk to your engineer or me. If Riko or the press are being a pain in your ass, you talk to Charlotte. That’s what we’re here for. But we cannot do our jobs if you don’t talk to us. Do you understand ?” 

Neil doesn’t think words could pass his throat for now, so he nods. 

“Good. Now, both of you have a seat. We have a PR strategy to prepare, and we’re going to figure out together how to deal with this as a team. Charlotte, Kevin is with his therapist right now, but I want you to call him tonight. Riko’s going to use all the media power he has to destabilise us and I want him to be ready.” 

As she walks past Neil to sit in front of the desk, Charlotte brushes her hand to his arm in a comforting gesture, smiling softly. Neil follows her, his heart feeling suddenly much, much lighter.  

When he returns to the hotel much later, he finds Katelyn sitting on the floor next to his door. 

“How long have you been waiting?” 

She glares at him, and he winces. A long time, then. 

“Don’t you think I didn’t notice you avoiding me all weekend, you little shit? What the hell was that about? You’ve got your own team now, so I don’t exist anymore?” 

Neil doesn’t try to defend himself; there’s no point. Instead, he says, “I’m not sure I’ve got what it takes.” 

Katelyn gapes at him for a second before standing up. She crushes him into a hug, and Neil feels like he can breathe again for the first time in weeks. 

“You were born for this”, she murmurs in his hair. “Nobody believes you can do this more than I do, so I’ll tell you again and again as long as you need me to. It will be tough as hell, but you were born for this.”

“There are photographs under my window, Kate; it’s starting all over again, just like last time.” 

She hugs him even tighter before letting him go but keeps his hand in hers. 

“You’re not alone this time. You’ll see, it makes all the difference.” 

Neil is so grateful for her that it hurts. They stay in silence in the middle of the hallway for a while. 

“How was your race?” 

She laughs softly. “It was fucking shit.” 

Tension bleeds out of their shoulders in sync, and he lets go of her hand to open his door.

“Tell me all about it.” 

Chapter Text

NEIL 

There are 20 laps left in the race, and Neil spots Aaron’s number 5 on the car in front of him. This week’s race already sounds way more promising than the last. He manages Q2, this time, starting P12 and now, he is slowly making his way up the ranking. 

“Colby, what’s the position ?” 

“You’re P6 for the moment. 1.2 seconds from Aaron in front, Katelyn is 3 seconds behind.” 

The Eden is one of the best cars on the grid, and Aaron is a skilled driver. Both Minyard twins are known for their analytical abilities, both able to make quick strategic calls before and during the race, not hesitating to work with each other to earn points. 

Aaron does have a flaw his brother doesn’t, though: he’s a sore loser. Driven entirely by competition, Aaron hates being overtaken and has developed a brutal, offensive driving style, blocking his opponents, zigzagging on the track, sometimes pulling dangerous manoeuvres if he has to. Some of his unhinged radio messages have become legendary over the internet, displaying the German driver’s anger, both in English and in his mother tongue.

Neil has followed Aaron’s entire career and is very much aware of all of this. The memory of his painful battle with Matt at the previous race is still fresh in his mind, and he keeps his distance from Aaron, maintaining just enough speed to stay in the DRS zone. Aaron makes trajectory mistakes under pressure and Neil will have to be patient and wait for the next one to make a clean move, leaving no choice to Aaron but to yield. 

The perfect opportunity presents itself 3 laps later, as Aaron lets his guard down at the beginning of a straight line. Losing no time, his DRS enabled, Neil takes advantage of the space and goes past Aaron at full speed, before the Edens driver has any chance to fight back. In his mirror, Neil sees Aaron punching his steering wheel in frustration, but it’s too late.

There’s no one standing between him and Riko now. 

“Good job, Riko next. Let’s close that gap as fast as you can,” Colby says. High on adrenaline, Neil chuckles and feels the tiredness and pain leave his body, his strength returning. He turns his full attention to the car in front of him and starts his chase. 

It takes a few more laps to get close enough to Riko to consider overtaking. Behind him, a furious Aaron is still holding his ground and hasn’t been distanced, threatening to make a move at every corner. The only thing holding him back is Katelyn’s green Vixen now shadowing him, having taken advantage of Neil and Aaron’s previous fight to close the gap. 

Neil is now less than a second behind Riko and he can see that the Edgar Allen driver is perfectly aware of his presence, his moves growing more erratics by the minute. To Riko, Neil knows by experience, there’s no greater humiliation than getting overtaken by a rookie, worse, a rookie that is Kevin’s new teammate, a rookie that is Neil of all people, and knowing that fact only motivates Neil to push harder. 

Putting Riko under pressure finally pays off, as it has with Aaron just before. The second Riko leaves enough space on the inside for Neil to sneak in, he doesn’t hesitate, diving for it. For an instant, it looks like it’s going to be enough, until Riko suddenly closes the door, turning violently onto Neil’s car. 

It only lasts a few seconds before chaos erupted. 

Neil swears loudly and jumps on his brakes. He only avoids Riko’s car by an inch and as he struggles under the force of the braking to avoid whiplash, he’s vaguely aware of a green car going past his left at high speed. Neil doesn’t have time to recover before Aaron’s Edens hit the Fox’s rear wing violently, sending both cars spinning into the gravel. Drifting sideways, Neil’s car stops its course quickly, but Aaron is not so lucky. Carried by its momentum, the Edens continues its course at high speed, before hitting the wall, the front wing crushing under the impact in an awful noise.

“Neil, are you okay ?!” Dizzy, Neil groans before opening his radio. “I’m fine. But Aaron just hit the wall, it looks bad.”

The safety car is deployed quickly as the first marshals start to run towards both cars. When the first one joins Neil, he’s already managed to unplug his steering wheel and extract himself from the car. By the time he’s escorted out of the track, Aaron has not moved. The last thing Neil sees before they make him go to the medical centre are the blue lights of the ambulance, approaching fast. 

Shaken but unharmed, Neil is quickly cleared by the doctors and makes his way back to the paddock. Aaron’s car is in such a state, a red flag has been deployed and all drivers are back in the pit lane, waiting for the race to start again. There’s too much damage on Neil’s car to go again, so his team has already declared him out while Neil was examined by the doctors. So much for his top-five finish. The bitter taste of disappointment in his mouth turns into hot, white rage when Neil spots Riko on the pit lane. 

“You piece of shit!” Riko has just time to turn around before Neil pushes him roughly. “What makes you think you can do shit like that, you could have killed the both of us!” Riko has the audacity to snort. 

As Neil is raising his fist to finally, finally send it into Riko’s face, someone grabs his arm and pulls him back. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Kevin sneers a moment later. All around us, people are staring, drivers, team members, journalists and fans alike. Neil can see disapproving stares on a lot of faces and it takes him a moment to realize they’re directed at him, not Riko. The latter looks very pleased with himself, as he proclaims for all to hear “I knew it was only a matter of days before you showed your true self. You really haven’t changed, Nathaniel. After all, like father, like son, right?”  

Neil snarls but Kevin is already hauling him up back to the safety of their garage. 

“Congratulations, you just gave him exactly what he wanted,” Kevin sighs when he finally lets go of a sulking Neil. 

“If it was too late anyway, you should have let me punch him.” 

Kevin slaps the back of his head before heading out “I’ve got a race to finish. Deal with your own mess.” 

KATELYN

The second part of the race is a long series of mistakes, as Katelyn is unable to regain focus. She caused a crash. She caused a crash between her own cousin and her unassumed crush. She sent both to the hospital and they expect her to get back to her race as if nothing happened. It’s a goddamn nightmare scenario. 

She waits for her engineer to tell her the duration of the penalty that she is sure to take, but the radio message never comes.

She spends most of the red flag in Allison’s arms, hyperventilating. 

“I was so sure I’d left enough space but when I saw the opportunity, I didn’t think, I just dived in, I shouldn’t have, I’m so, so sorry…”

It doesn’t matter what her teammate tells her, that it’s not her fault, that race incidents happen, that they’ll be fine, Katelyn is unable to get out of the loop of anxiety she fell into. It takes a while and a lot of effort to focus only on Allison’s hand in her hair before she can take a full breath and come back to her senses. Before she can recover completely, it’s time to get back on track, and she can’t declare herself out, that would be unfair to both Neil and Aaron and so she gets back. She doesn’t talk to anyone, wordlessly listens to her engineer’s instructions, and they go again. She hasn’t had any news of Neil or Aaron, and that’s all she can think about. Thankfully, most of the race has been done before the incident and the six final laps pass in a blur. She barely manages to stay in the top ten, and she’s out of the car in seconds. 

She sees Neil first, on her way to media duties. She crushes him in a hug - she’s been doing that a lot, lately - and he groans. She lets go of him suddenly. 

“Shit, are you hurt?” 

“Bruised, but nothing’s broken. They cleared me right after the accident.” 

“I’m so, so sorry.” 

He throws her a strange look. Before he has the time to say anything else, Kevin appears and starts yelling. 

“Why are you always late, you were not even in your car, for fuck’s sake. Start taking media duty seriously and we might be out of here before nightfall, for once.” 

Katelyn ends up alone. She stays there for a while before Allison joins her. 

Allison Reynolds was older than Katelyn by a few years and had been racing for a long time. She had first taken interest in the sport out of spite, as her parents wanted her to play tennis. The more reluctant they became, the better she was until they cut her out for good and she went to search for her sponsors on her own. She was a force of nature and Katelyn honestly believed she couldn’t have had a better teammate to start her professional career. 

“You look like shit, hun. I hear Minayrd’s still at the medical centre, why don’t you go see him, mh? I’ll cover for you.” Katelyn hugs her gratefully and sneaks out to make her way to the medical centre, at the opposite side of the circuit. 

Aaron’s room is not hard to find when she gets there and as knocks at the door, Andrew opens it. They level each other’s stares for a moment before he steps aside to let her in. 

He says something to Aaron in German, who barks something back, and grabs his jacket before leaving, closing the door behind him. 

“How are you feeling?” she asks, standing awkwardly next to the door. 

He sits up straighter and points to the chair next to the bed to motion her to sit. “Nauseous. I hit my head pretty hard but they say I’m not concussed. I’ll be cleared in the morning.” 

She sits next to him, relieved. “I’m sorry. I was so sure my move was safe, I don’t know what went wrong.” 

Aaron looks as puzzled as Neil was earlier and Katelyn starts to wonder if they both did not hit their heads harder than they think. 

“Kate, what are you talking about?” 

“It’s my fault you’re here. I dived through even though it wasn’t safe and I pushed the two of you out of the track.” 

“You didn’t, though.” 

What?

She raises her head and looks at him as he continues. 

“You didn’t push us, Riko did. He closed on Neil, who hit me. None of it is your fault.” 

Katelyn’s head spins. She hasn’t seen replays of the crash, it didn’t even cross her mind. Riko was in front of her, though, and suddenly it all makes sense. 

“He pushed you. He pushed and I just went by.” 

“Yeah. You were lucky though. If you hadn’t had the idea of diving in when you did, you would have been caught in the crash with us.”

Katelyn never liked Riko. He’s a pretentious jerk, and Neil told her enough about his childhood so she knows he cannot be trusted. But it’s the first time she gets really mad at him. She spent hours sick with worry, she blew up her best result of the season yet, only to realize it was him all along. It’s her own fault for letting it get to her head, though and she swears to herself next time, she’ll check the video recording first. She’s pulled out of her thoughts when Aaron lets out a small smile. 

“You worried about me, though,” Aaron says. He sounds way giddier than he has any right to. She punches him in the arm. 

“Asshole.” 

He laughs and Katelyn feels so, so much better. 

NEIL 

Neil doesn’t understand why he has to go through the traditional bullshit of post-race interviews when he didn’t finish the race in the first place. But Kevin drags him through it and he has no choice but to comply. He makes a point of blaming Riko every time the crash is mentioned, though, and can’t help the wave of satisfaction when it’s announced a 5 seconds penalty has been given to the Japanese driver for reckless behaviour. He crosses paths with Sarah and Laïla on his way back to his motorhome and waves at them, but this time, they pointedly ignore him. He sighs. Kevin was right. His stunt with Riko didn’t make him popular, particularly amongst the other drivers. Causing a crash is obviously frowned upon, but going physically after another driver out of the track is an absolute no-go. Two races in, and he’s already got quite a reputation. 

Once again, there’s someone waiting for him in front of his door but it’s not Katelyn. Andrew Minayrd is leaning against the large vehicle, silently pulling on a vape pen. When he blows, a strong, sugary scent fills Neil’s nose and he frowns. 

“Second race and you already sent a driver to the hospital, good score, Rookie.” 

“It wasn’t my fault and you know it.” 

“I do,” Andrew nods before vaping again. “It wasn’t your fault, this one time. But what about the next?” 

“What do you want me to say? That I’ll never be involved in a crash ever again? I hate to break it to you, but these things happen.” 

Andrew looks at him and says nothing. After a while, Neil decides he’s got enough shit for the day and goes to open the door of his motorhome, to finally get some fucking peace and rest. 

As he puts his hand on the handle, though, Andrew says, “I don’t know what to make of you.” Neil stops in his tracks and looks at Andrew, puzzled.

“At first, I thought Riko had sent you to destroy Kevin’s confidence. Kevin trusts you, you grew up with both of them, and you were in desperate need of a seat, it made sense. But I witnessed first-hand how much Riko hates your guts. That kind of hatred cannot be faked.” 

“You want to figure out if I’m good for Kevin or not.” It’s not a question but Andrew nods, nonetheless. 

Mind your own fucking business, Neil wants to say. “And what do you think,” he asks, instead. 

“Jury’s still up. But your little ego battle already sent my twin brother to the hospital, so I’d say the odds are not in your favour.” 

Neil has nothing to answer to that. He already spent the afternoon overthinking what would have happened if Katelyn had been in Aaron’s place. He doesn’t offer an apology to Andrew. There’s no use. There will be no forgiveness if he ends up killing someone. Andrew finally straightens up from the motorhome wall and starts walking away. Before he can disappear in the darkness, Neil calls after him and the other man turns around. 

“Why did you and Kevin stop talking?” 

Andrew shrugs and takes a drag on his vape before blowing the water vapour. 

“None of us were able to keep our word.” 

Chapter Text

NEIL 

The next few weeks pass in a blur. Aaron gets out of the hospital the day after the crash. Riko receives his 5 seconds penalty on the following Grand Prix, as planned, which allows his teammate to start in front of him for the first time this season. Jean Moreau wins his first Formula One race in April 2022 at the Australian Grand Prix. Kevin and Riko complete the podium, and people start celebrating the return of the victorious trio they formed in their teenage years. 

Behind the scenes, though, the mood could not be more different. The same night, as they’re watching race highlights in Neil’s hotel room, Kevin freezes. 

“Wait, show me that action again.” 

Neil does, and Kevin pales, watching the scene closely. 

“He didn’t let him pass.” 

“What do you mean? Kevin, are you okay?” 

“Jean. He had an opportunity to let Riko pass in the last two laps, and he closed the door. Just before I got past Riko.” 

All that’s left of the high of Kevin’s first podium since his accident is washed away in an instant. Riko had always been the first driver in every team he’d been in since childhood, and he hated nothing more than to be disobeyed. They both knew what had happened the last time someone had tried. Jean's first emancipation attempt is worrying, at best. 

The realisation makes Kevin's anxiety rise, making him even more unbearable than usual. He’s bitchy, impatient and bad-tempered on his good days, and his constant criticism about the supposed clumsiness of his mechanics and Neil’s general skills is starting to get on everyone’s last nerves. 

“You can’t rely on your instincts when you’re racing, it’s reckless and stupid, and we don’t have the kind of money that allows you to wreck a car each week.” 

Neil’s still seated in the simulator, his helmet on his head, and he’s gripping the steering wheel so hard he can feel the plastic crack under his fingers. Above him, Kevin’s rant continues. 

“Every single little detail has to be analysed and calculated. Nothing can be omitted, or you’ll just become one backmarker, too lazy to improve, blaming your car when you cannot perform….” He sounds positively disgusted at that thought as if the possibility of being last is the worst thing that could ever happen. 

They’re in Palmetto’s factory, in the south of London. They usually spend their weeks there between races if Kevin doesn’t decide to get wasted in a club somewhere in the world or Neil isn’t going home to Stuart’s in Cornwall - which happens less and less since Katelyn has her own place. 

They’ve been taking turns in the simulator for four hours, doing lap after lap of the Imola track, where they’re headed next. Four hours of endless Kevin Day criticism. Neil wants to smash his head into the screen. 

“...how you can be that good at math and not bother to use the stats you’ve got at your disposal is beyond me….”

“Oh my god Kevin, shut up!”

The other man gapes like a fish, looking deeply offended. 

“Do not tell me to shut up. I am giving you precious advice here.”

Neil extracts himself from the cockpit and yanks his helmet off his head. 

“I heard your advice the first two hundred times. You’ve got to let me do my own thing now.”

Kevin scoffs, “You don’t have a thing. You haven’t been driving for five years or competed in any official competition since you were 14; you know nothing.”

“Don’t treat me like I’m stupid. I may not be an insufferable asshole like you, but I know what I’m doing.”

“You’re awfully cocky for a rookie.”

“And now, you sound like Riko. Fuck you, by the way.”

Kevin gasps and tries to shove Neil, who dodges easily. Rile-up Kevin is always way more fun than listening to him. 

“Let me show you that I know what I’m doing. I’ll do the next race my way.” 

Kevin scoffs again because he’s an ass. “Sure, ruin another race; it’s not like you started scoring points, anyway.” That stings more than it should. They’re only two races into the season. None of the rookies scored points yet; Neil’s not an exception. And he knows he can be the first one to finish in the top ten. Robin is not that bad, but her car is far from competitive for now, and Jack and Sheena finished both races at the bottom of the grid. They’re more experienced than he is, but Neil learned to drive with Kevin, Riko and Jean. He used to be as good as any of them, if not better. And sure, he reached their common goal a few years late, but he forgot nothing. 

“I can’t analyse every detail on track while racing. I tried, but you know it doesn’t work that way for me; it never did.”

“Have it your way then,” Kevin says, throwing his hands in the air, “but don’t come crying when you kill someone because you decided to only rely on your instinct.” 

Neil huffs, but there’s no point arguing. Kevin won’t shut up until he proves he can succeed on his own. Kevin might not shut up even then, Neil thinks as he grumpily puts his helmet on before hopping into the simulator to train some more. 

They fly to Italy and don’t mention their fight again, but Neil can’t stop thinking about it. Then, finally, race day comes, and as he gets into his car on the starting grid, Neil’s mind is set on proving he’s a damn good driver. He puts his helmet on, and there’s nothing on his mind but the race. It all happens in a daze. The lights turn off, and instantly, he’s moving, passing three cars before the first corner. There’s a red car amongst them, Neil’s brain notes, but he doesn’t lose his focus long enough to know which twin is now behind him. Seven laps in, DRS is finally allowed by the stewards, and Neil does not hesitate, jumping on the next occasion to overtake the car in front. Dan has no time to react before he goes past her, gaining another position. 

Relying only on driving skills has never been enough in racing, though, and Neil quickly starts losing speed. It’s a dry, suffocating April day that has taken everybody by surprise, and way too early, the tires begin to blister. A quick radio message from Colby confirms Kevin has the same problem. It soon becomes clear that the one-stop strategy they planned won’t be enough to put both cars on the podium, let alone into the points. Neil is running P6 and struggling to keep his position when an idea crosses his mind. 

“Hey, what if we switch to hard tires now?”

“That might be enough for the undercut, but it’s still too early; your tires will lose performance way before the end.”

“I know mine will.”

There’s silence for a few minutes. If the strategists have heard Neil’s innuendo, they will return to him once their new calculations are done. And then, maybe….

“Box next lap, Neil, box.”

Neil grins in his helmet. The strategy can work. He will pit now, change for new tires and gain enough speed early in the race to get in front when leaders start to lose performance. That will allow him to slow them down long enough to preserve Kevin’s pneumatics until the last quarter of the race, so he can try to go for the overcut. 

This strategy means sacrificing Neil’s race. Everybody in the team knows this, himself included. But if it all goes according to plan, this could also mean a win for Kevin. Something they’re all desperate for. Something that would show all of their opponents they were a threat to be taken seriously. Neil doesn’t hesitate. He dives into the pit lane, 19 laps in the race. 

His mechanics must be as worked up as he is because the tire change is over in the blink of an eye. As he exits the pit lane, the screen of his steering wheel displays the length of the stop. 2.2 seconds. It’s the fastest stop of the season to date. 

With the right tires, it feels like flying. The Palmetto is a fast car, to begin with, and with old pneumatics in such harsh conditions, the other cars don’t stand a chance. His mind deep in the zone, Neil goes up the ranking in no time to find himself in the top 5 by mid-race. 

The timing could not be better, as, not long after, all leaders have no choice but to pit their tires in agony. Kevin stays out. On lap 34 of the Imola Grand Prix, Neil Josten is leading a Formula 1 race for the first time. 

To say it’s an exhilarating feeling is an understatement. All alone in his track sector, far from any traffic, he first tries to remember every single piece of advice Kevin gave him the past year. But as always, it soon becomes too much, the amount of information overwhelming as Neil’s brain struggles to process anything in time. As he gains even more speed, he gives up and stops thinking altogether, relying only on his instincts. It takes a few seconds for his mind to adjust, and everything slows down. It’s a blur, but somehow, Neil knows exactly what he’s doing. He brakes as late as possible before turns, hard enough to get to the absolute limit of his grip and slide a little while keeping up enough balance, so the car doesn't spin. His trajectory is drawing itself before his eyes, so clearly, there isn’t any doubt possible in his mind. 

It cannot last, but his result in the race doesn’t matter anymore. An old sensation surges back, and it’s familiar and comforting. Like it’s what he was meant to do all along.

After a while, as predicted, the others start catching up. Jean’s Raven in his mirrors reminds him of why he’s in this position in the first place, and he focuses on his next job: being as annoying as possible. Speed doesn’t really matter anymore, as his only goal is now to keep the cars behind him long enough for Kevin to catch up with the pack. Keeping an eye on his mirrors at all times, Neil closes every attempt Jean tries to make, mirroring his every move, relentlessly closing the door. 

Behind them, he can see a yellow car - the number 9 on it tells him it’s Renee’s - and Riko having their own battle, which slows them down. They won’t be a menace to him, for now. 

Jean is nothing but persistent and stubbornly keeps trying. The air is still scorching hot, the track even worse, and Neil starts to feel the exhaustion wash over him. His water is long gone, his arms and back muscles are hurting under pressure, and the car is becoming more and more challenging to drive each lap. 

They are quickly approaching the end of the race when, in addition to all of that, Neil’s steering wheel starts flashing, showing some damage on his front tires. There’s still no sight of Kevin in his mirrors. Every car behind Neil has much fresher tires than his now, and if Kevin doesn’t catch up with the leading pack very soon, they will miss their chance. But Kevin’s pneumatics are even older, and as skilled as he is, he might be unable to make it. 

After a particularly aggressive move from Jean, the idea of giving up and letting him through crosses Neil’s mind for the first time. He won’t be able to hold on for much longer, and only hopes he has slowed them down long enough. But as he prepares to leave enough space for Jean to go through, the Raven suddenly loses pace. Smoke starts to come out of the engine, and Jean has to dive to the side to get out of his teammate’s way, coming up at full speed behind him. Neil sees the french driver punch his steering wheel in anger, as Riko and Renee fly past him before he completely disappears, out of sight. Jean pulling out must have distracted Riko, though, because Renee finally takes the occasion to go past the Japanese driver. It’s both a relief and a torture. Neil is in no condition to fight Renee now. Both he and his car are out of breath, and Renee is too experienced of a driver to stay stuck behind an agonising car. 

It takes him one more lap before Renee’s Longhorn goes past him. It’s now Renee, Neil and Riko battling for the first three places. Finally, Neil’s radio cracks and Colby’s voice sounds like a miracle. “Kevin is only one second behind on fresh tires; he’ll take it from there. You did an amazing job, Neil, box next lap, now, please.”

It’s another lightning-fast stop before Neil comes back on track, finally competitive again. There are ten laps left, and he is now P6, having lost a few positions during his passage through the pit lane, but he takes advantage of his late stop to maintain his position until finally, he passes the checkered flag.

He misses the podium once again. But as he raises his eyes to the nearest giant screen, he realises he doesn’t care. 

Kevin won. 

Kevin won, and Neil, in the top 10, has just scored his first points in the championship. 

“Mate, that was the sickest race I’ve seen in a long time!” Colby has forgotten all of his usual composure, emotion bleeding through his voice. Behind him, Neil can hear the victory cheers of the Palmetto garage. It’s their first win, too.

When he parks back to parc fermé, Neil is tackled by his mechanics, pressing themselves at the barriers to congratulate him. Together, they make their way to the bottom of the podium, watching as Kevin climbs to the highest step. Surrounded by his team, Neil forgets his exhaustion. As he watches his best friend and teammate raise his cup above his head, he thinks maybe, he has never felt happier. 

KATELYN

Out of breath, Katelyn extracts herself from her car. She barely managed to finish P10, only because Nicky in front of her went too wide on a corner, in the last lap. He stands behind her as they wait to get weighed. Finishing out of the points because of a last-minute mistake is never fun, but Nicky doesn’t seem to care. He jokes loudly with Laïla Dermott next to him, and as he laughs, their helmets bump into each other, making him laugh even harder. 

They all pass in front of the stewards, and when Nicky tears off his helmet, he’s still giggling, and the sight of him makes Katelyn feel lighter. Until all joy disappears abruptly from Nicky’s face as his father enters the room. 

Luther Hemmick has been a figure of the paddock for a long time, having managed a lot of drivers’ careers over the years, mostly unsuccessful ones, and had a firm hold on Nicky and Aaron’s careers until Aaron met Andrew. Betsy Dobson, Andrew’s mother and manager, secured a contract for both twins, and Aaron left Luther behind. The only reason the cousins are still talking those days is that Nicky’s last contract was also Bee’s doing.

Aaron once told Katelyn it was the best decision of his life. Luther is mediocre at best, and years of disappointment made him cold and bitter. But even though everyone on the paddock knows it, he never quits and lurks in the shadows, watching over his son’s shoulder, every single race of every single season. Not unlike a hawk, Aaron says. Or a cockroach, Katelyn thinks. 

Nicky’s shoulders slump forward like he’s trying to make himself smaller. Luther strides into the room, fury all over his face. He seems to realise Katelyn is watching him, though, because he composes himself quickly before saying in a low, tight voice, “You had to ruin it in the last lap, didn’t you? You couldn’t stay focused for one more lap.” It’s not really a question, and Nicky knows it because he doesn’t answer, just bows his head. 

Luther throws a glance at Katelyn again, and she glares back. Nicky is not a bad driver by any means. But his sunny and careless personality tends to give people a wrong idea of his actual capacities, a feeling strongly reinforced by his father’s failures. It’s not the first time the drivers on the grid have witnessed a scene like this one after a race, but Nicky has been on the grid for years, and he's visibly getting increasingly tired of the rough treatment. It started showing in his performances, only making his situation worse. He smiles less and doubts himself much more in a sport that leaves no space for doubt. Not for the first time, Katelyn feels glad Aaron got out of Luther’s reach. She wishes Nicky could do the same when he throws a small, sad smile in her direction and leaves the room behind his father. 

“That guy gives the creep.”

Katelyn jumps and turns to find Allison just behind her. She glares at the door where Luther and Nicky just disappeared. As usual, she looks flawless, like she didn't spend the last hour and a half sweating under a helmet and three layers of thick racing suit material. Next to her teammate, Katelyn feels gross and more than ready for a shower. Allison throws her arm around Katelyn’s shoulders and pulls her toward the press corner for post races interviews. She looks in an excellent mood for someone who finished in the bottom five, and Katelyn asks her why. 

“It's the first race Riko hasn't won in forever . Day is an asshole, but I’d choose him over King Douchebag any day.”

And in those words, it suddenly occurs to Katelyn she doesn't even know what the finishing grid is. 

“Kevin won?”

Allison sighs. “Pay attention to your surroundings, Hatford. Your feral baby cousin just scored his first points.”

An uneasy feeling punches Katelyn’s guts, and she can't stop the grimace on her face. Thankfully, Allison doesn’t see it because Renee is there, waiting for them. Allison strides toward her girlfriend, and Katelyn joins the barrier to answer the first questions. 

Reporters go by in front of her, and she answers the same four questions for god knows how long. The feeling in her guts stays and she tries to ignore it, to no avail. 

Neil finished the race inside the points. After only two races and 5 years without driving a race car, Neil managed to achieve what she’s desperately been trying to do every single weekend of the last four seasons. Besides her father, there’s no one she loves more than Neil in the world, but jealousy is a wicked thing. And no matter how hard she tries, she can’t bring herself to be happy for him. Her body’s still sore from the race but instead of returning to her hotel, she changes out of her racing suit and goes straight to the gym, only to find out there’s already someone there. 

Aaron doesn’t turn from the bag he’s punching when he hears the door closing, just groans. 

“Find your own goddamn gym, I’m already using this one.” 

Katelyn scoffs, and Aaron finally turns around. He looks a bit guilty when he sees her, but it doesn’t cover the scowl on his face. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks. 

“Training until I win a race or my arms fall off, whichever comes first. What are you doing here ?” 

He hits the bag several times before mumbling, “Andrew got past me in the last ten laps.”

Ah. Siblings, right?

She nods and drops her bag to the ground, stepping on a treadmill. She starts running, and the steady rhythm of Aaron's fists hitting the leather soon soothes her. An hour passes, and Aaron has already begun removing the bandages around his knuckles when she starts slowing down. She sits on the floor next to him and takes a long gulp of water before sighing. 

“I feel like a jealous teenage girl, it’s stupid.” She doesn’t say what she’s talking about, but she doesn’t have to. Aaron gets it.

“It isn’t, though. Teamwork only gets you so far. In the end, we’re alone in the car, and we’re the ones making the difference. Being beaten by another driver is annoying but to be expected. On the other hand, being beaten by your teammate on equal machinery is intolerable. And I know for a fact being beaten by a family member is the fucking worst.”

“How do they do it? How do they make it look so easy?” 

Aaron lets out a bitter laugh. “I don’t know. The more frustrating it is for us, the more energy they get, I guess. Do you know what the worst part is? He told me he didn’t even want to do it anymore. He finds it boring . He doesn’t even try anymore, and he’s still better than I am.” 

She turns to him, but he doesn’t look at her. Instead, his eyes stare at his clenched fists, where bruises are already starting to appear. There’s no one else there, so she puts her hand on his until he relaxes and squeezes it for a few seconds before letting go. She puts her hand on the floor between them, and he puts his next, their fingers barely brushing. They don’t say another word, but when he comes knocking at her hotel door later that night, she lets him in without hesitation. 

Chapter Text

NEIL

The heat on the Miami's circuit fake marina is unbearable, and if Neil has to do one more tiktok video, he's going to scream. Press day is always annoying, but Florida has pushed it to a whole new level. Neil's pretty sure most of the so-called celebrities roaming around the paddock have never watched a Formula 1 race before. 

For the last five minutes, he's been listening to a girl he's never seen before rambling on about the similarity between the blue of his eyes and the giant turquoise plastic sticker stuck on the ground to simulate water. He's slightly offended but nods absently because Charlotte threatened to cut out his simulator hours if he didn't behave. He's not sure Wymack would actually let her do it, but he's not taking any chance. The woman is scary. 

On the other side of the bridge of the yacht they're standing on - placed directly on the ground because there is no water, it's stupid  - Kevin is thriving. Or, he pretends to be because Neil knows he considers press duties a waste of time when he could be training instead. His press smile is on, flashing to the endless flow of people around him. He takes selfies, signs caps and flirts just the right amount, and there's not a single person on this boat who's not at least a little bit in love with Kevin Day, Grand Prix winner. Except for Neil who feels a bit nauseous at the sight, and Wymack, because that would be weird. 

Kevin has calmed down since Italy, his assurance coming back. He's still insufferable but a normal kind of insufferable, which is relaxing for everyone on the team. It's a relief because Wymack decided they would have to work even more with each other from now on. 

Neil had groaned, Kevin had scoffed, and David had no time for this bullshit. 

"I don't want to hear it. Neil, you've got all the raw talent you need, but it's messy most of the time. The one time you actually take time to think ahead, you score points and secure your teammate a win. Keep doing that, and we might have a slight chance of beating the Ravens in the constructor's championship. And you," he had pointed at Kevin, who was mumbling something like I've been telling this for ages, "you got lazy." 

Kevin had choked in indignation. 

"The old Kevin never needed help to win races. Now, not only do you need to be riled up by your own teammate to actually try hard enough, but you also need his help. I'm all for teamwork, but you cannot expect Neil to sacrifice all his races on your behalf; that's not fair. So use your teammate's help when needed; if you have to place stupid bets before each race, do it, I don't care, but don't rely on it. Most of the work is on you." 

He'd stared them down before continuing. "You both need each other more than you think. So stop acting like brats and focus on the job." 

"Would you say it's more turquoise or cerulean?" the girl asks, pulling Neil out of his thoughts. Before he has to improvise an answer on the colour of his own eyes, a voice comes from behind him. 

"Oh, it's neither. It's lighter, see?" 

The girl thinks for a second, bringing her face closer to Neil's to get a closer look at his eyes before she answers, "Mh, you're right. Baby blue, maybe? Let me check the Pantone reference." 

While she pulls up her phone, Neil takes a step back and feels his ears warming up. How did he end up in this situation, listening to a random girl and Andrew Minyard debating about the colour of his eyes. Andrew doesn't let her search for long before he continues his analyse, looking thoughtful. 

"Or maybe it's the colour of frost. With a little bit of Mediterranean sea. Doesn't it look a little green to you? It must depend on the light. Or, maybe, just maybe, no one gives a damn, and this conversation has no interest whatsoever."  

The realisation he's making fun of her dawns on the girl, but she doesn't have the time to look offended because Andrew seizes the back of Neil's dress shirt and pulls him toward another corner of the bridge. 

When they reach the railing, Neil shrugs off Andrew's grip and glares as the other man pulls his vape pen out of his pocket. 

"You're welcome, I guess." 

"I was fine, I didn't need your help." 

"I watched you struggle for an agonisingly long time, and she was seconds away from slapping her phone next to your face to compare with the colour chart. She still might, if you want to go back there. She really looked like she wanted to spend a lot of time with you, talking about your eyes." 

Neil doesn't want to admit Andrew's right, but he really doesn't want to go back, so he stays and opts for sulking instead. Andrew has at least the decency to not look smug.

Neil knows he doesn't have much time until Charlotte finds out he's not socialising anymore, but he enjoys the break while it lasts. He doesn't particularly like Andrew, but he's quiet, and they share the same dislike of social duties. 

"Did you decide if I'm good for Kevin or not?" 

The question's out before Neil can stop himself. Andrew turns and raises an eyebrow. 

"Do you care that much if I do?" 

Neil shrugs. "Simple curiosity. Kevin's an asshole without friends, you might be the only that cares."

"Kevin and I are not friends." 

"Yeah, no offense, but I think that's bullshit." 

Andrew lets out an annoyed puff and says nothing. Neil is slightly glad the boat is not actually on water because the fruity smell of the vape is starting to make him nauseous. 

Neil doesn't push, and they watch the circuit in silence until Charlotte strides in their direction, fuming.

" What do you think you're doing? " 

She pulls him by the arm to introduce him to another potential sponsor, when Andrew mumbles reluctantly. 

"You might not be as bad as I initially thought." 

Neil smiles and follows Charlotte. It's not much but it feels like a win. 

ANDREW

Andrew is annoyed. He's surrounded by stupid people, doing stupid things for stupid reasons. He aggressively pulls on his vape pen, wishing not for the first time he was still allowed real cigarettes, but there's a line in his contract that forbids it, and Bee says he has to actually respect it or whatever. Of course, he's sure it was her idea to begin with. 

He's annoyed at Aaron, who's mad at him for some reason but won't say why. He's annoyed at himself, too, because he's being a liar. He knows why Aaron's mad, and he's mad at Aaron, too. Aaron, who wanted him to try harder but can't stand when Andrew actually does try. Like that makes sense. 

He's annoyed at Kevin, who always seems so at ease in this kind of situation. Kevin, who's a filthy lying liar who lies. Kevin who came back after a silence of silence, who tries to act like nothing happened, like Andrew didn't betray his word. 

His eyes fall on Neil Hatford next and Andrew is fuming. Oh, how much would Andrew have liked for Neil to be another Riko. It would have been so much easier. Instead, Neil is everything Andrew wanted to be for Kevin. Neil brought Kevin back, Neil is helping Kevin win, Neil is antagonising Riko every chance he gets. Andrew hates him. On top of that, Neil has the audacity to be smart, fast, loudmouthed, socially awkward and devastatingly good-looking. He's interesting and Andrew is so mad at him. 

They're on a beach, for some kind of marketing event. Just like everything else here, it's not a real beach. The sea is miles away, it's just a big swimming pool that's full of sand, and they're supposed to do a sandcastle competition, because apparently that's the kind of shitshow racing drivers are supposed to do, now. Andrew is annoyed at the sand in his shoes, he can feel it between his toes and he hates it . There's no way Andrew is going to put his knees in the wet sand like a toddler and Aaron throws him a dirty look because even this, he wants to win. It's a shame they have to stick to their teams because Andrew's sure Aaron would rather spend the whole challenge with the other Hatford. He imagines the castle Aaron and Katelyn would build if they teamed up. It would be high, chiselled, and pompous, with moats and turrets, the kind of romantic castle you find in the mountains in Germany or Austria. Something fitting for the overachievers they both are, where they could live with their 2,5 children and golden retriever. Kevin could join. They would be unstoppable. Andrew kicks the sand with his shoe, and Aaron scowls again. "Too bad we're stuck together for another year at your request", he wants to remind him. He doesn't. He stares at Kevin and Neil instead. 

They're fighting over their castle, which consists of one sad-looking tower freshly made out of a yellow bucket. Neil is on all fours in the sand, which doesn't give Andrew any ideas, thank you, and the direct sunlight turns his hair bright red. He's wearing his orange and white team t-shirt, and it awfully clashes with his hair, and he's bright, bright, bright. The colour of his eyes pops and Andrew scoffs, thinking back about the girl on the yacht. Baby blue. Stupid. Neil's eyes are obviously the colour of a clear, blue winter sky. Andrew didn't spend hours looking at Instagram pictures to figure that out. He bites his cheek until he draws blood for good measure because there's no wall available for him to smash his head in. 

He also looks exhausted and ready to combust and Andrew can almost relate, because it's been a long day. The boy hates the attention so much that he looks ready to bolt at any moment. He's also utterly oblivious to every flirting attempt that goes his way, despite being hit on countless times today. It's both painful to watch and infuriating. 

At some point, Neil hisses at Kevin like a fucking animal and looks ready to gouge out his eyes with a plastic, pink rake. That earns him a slap behind the head from his PR manager, because of course, there are cameras everywhere. The poor woman looks close to burn-out, and Andrew almost sympathises. 

He's willing to admit that babysitting a bunch of twenty-something, arrogant, self-centred racing drivers all day must be exhausting. They're all the same: thinking that everything is due to them since they have come this far. They are in the spot that everyone dreams of. They made it. And the ultimate goal, the last thing to do, is to be the first amongst them, even if it means crushing everything in their path, no matter the world around them.

Because that's the point, isn't it? Ask any driver on the grid why they deserve to win, why they deserve to be world champion. Because I want it more than anyone else, they'll say. Because I work and train harder than anyone else. And it won't be a lie; they all believe it's true. 

All but Andrew. 

Andrew doesn't want to win at all costs. Andrew doesn't work harder than the others. Why would he? He has proven everything he had to prove. He doesn't need to be the best, not anymore. He has been the best before, which wasn't as thrilling as he thought it would be. Any other driver in the situation would retire with no regrets. But Andrew is 22, and 22 is an awfully young age to retire, even by F1 drivers standards. He could retire, but what to do next? That's why Aaron holds on so hard. Andrew just doesn't see the point. All his life, Andrew has always liked the racing part more than anything else. Speed has always been the one thing that made his heart beat a little bit faster. It still is. It's just not enough, anymore. 

When he was still a child, months after Bee adopted him, she had been hired as a strategist in Kayleigh Day's team. She was good at her job, and they wanted her, but she was the single mother of a 5 years old boy. She had no one to babysit Andrew while she was gone, and she wouldn't have left him behind, anyway, so she'd taken him with her. Twenty-ish weekends a year, in some corner of the world, Andrew was allowed to sit at the back of the garage with the mechanics, so he could watch the race both happening on the big screens and for real at the end of the pit lane, as long as he didn't move. It was fine. Whatever bullshit his former foster families had invented to get rid of him, Andrew had never been a turbulent child. So Andrew sat, and watched, and watched and learned. How to fix a car built like a rocket ship in a few minutes. How all races were different, no matter how hard you tried to plan ahead. How insignificant details could be the downfall or the success of an entire team strategy. How everything could change in a matter of seconds. It was unpredictable and it was fun .

Then, Andrew discovered speed. It was one thing to watch, but being in the car was something else.

First, Bee put him in a children's kart. It was entertaining for a while, but as Andrew grew up and got tired of it. The kart was quick but not quick enough, and the sensations faded once he got used to them. Bee didn't have the kind of money it takes to finance a career in motor racing, though, and it soon became clear that the only way he could get faster machinery was to win competitions and get sponsors. 

So Andrew started winning. He won and climbed every step, all the way to the pinnacle. Somewhere along the way, Andrew met Aaron and learned about Tilda and why she would only ever be Aaron's mother. His head betrayed him, and speed wasn't only a way to pass the time anymore; it became the only thing able to steer some emotions down Andrew's chest. Bee called it an unhealthy coping mechanism. But Bee didn't have to deal with the turmoil inside Andrew's head and the desperate need to feel something. 

By the time Andrew got better, he was old enough that his future was all mapped out. He would race because he didn't know what else to do, because Kevin was there, and because that was the one thing he and his twin could bond over. His relationship with Aaron improved, and they couldn't have gotten along better now, despite their disagreements and lingering frustrations. Kevin was gone and back again, but he didn't need Andrew this time. Speed still stirs the shadow of emotion in his core from time to time, but that's not enough to keep him going. Nothing does. He is bored out of his mind. 

Except now, he's mad, furious even, and that's the most emotion he's felt for a long time. And the cause is this red, blue and orange boy crawling in the sand, building a sandcastle like that's his job (it kinda is) and annoying the shit out of Andrew's former best friend, who secretly likes it very much. 

He pulls deeply on his vape and blows until his lungs are almost empty. 

"Shit." 

KEVIN 

The amount of time wasted this weekend drives Kevin crazy, but he takes it upon himself, knowing it's almost over. Miami is a particular place where marketing duties take more space than the rest, while the race is relegated to second place. He understands the necessity, Monaco has worked the same way for ages. Formula 1 is a sport made of money; you need to find it somewhere. That means spending time with rich people who know close to nothing about the sport but are willing to invest once in a while. That means convincing an entire country full of millions of potential new fans that this is a sport worth watching and spending money on. It's a necessity, but it's a pain in the ass. 

The race happened, and no one cared. Riko wins once again, Kevin finishes close second once again. He doesn't have time to process, and analyse what went wrong and when, before he's pulled into another event, having barely enough time to shower. 

Neil's not here; he's been sent by Charlotte to film a clip with the local baseball team ("Baseball, Charlotte? Of all the sports you could have chosen, you picked baseball? Why don't you send me play with the Exy team instead. I can do Exy. Baseball is dumb !"). Kevin suspects she did it on purpose because that event looks full of important people, and she might not have believed him able to keep his mouth shut long enough. The Eden's PR manager must have had the same apprehension because Aaron and Andrew are not there, either. So Kevin is alone, condemned to mingle with people all night when he only dreams of a nap, just because he's the only one who knows to behave. There's alcohol and it's tempting but he stays away from it. He can't fuck this up. He wanders in the room, a glass of sparkling water in hand, and does what he knows best: appropriately flirting with every trophy wife or husband who wants to get his attention. 

Hours pass and Kevin is close to reaching his quota of inappropriate remarks and lingering touching. He goes looking for Charlotte to get permission to finally retire to his hotel room when a hand grabs his arm. He turns around sharply, a lecture about personal boundaries ready on his lips, but the words stay stuck in his throat. It's Riko. 

"Jumpy, just the way I like you," Riko hums, keeping a tight grip on Kevin's biceps. "I'm surprised you had the balls to go out without any of your guard dogs; you became awfully confident since that win." He pulls Kevin in an embrace and whispers in Kevin's ear. "I wouldn't get used to it if I were you. You remember what happened the last time you tried to beat me, don't you? It would be a shame to hurt yourself again, Kevin. I don't think your hand would recover this time." He lets go and pats Kevin on the back before walking away. 

"I'll see you in Barcelona, Kevin." 

Kevin doesn't recall getting out of the room. He doesn't remember how that bottle of vodka ended up in his hand. All he remembers of that night after that is throwing up and Riko's words in his head. 

Chapter Text

NEIL 

They're back in Barcelona only a few days after Miami. Between the marketing circus, the flights, the jetlag and Kevin back to being an asshole, Neil's patience is running thin. He counts the days until Monday when he and Katelyn have planned to come home to Stuart's for a well-deserved two-week break.  

He thought Kevin was doing better after Italy, but since returning from Florida, he's worse than ever. It reminds Neil of the first weeks of training when Kevin was still terrified to even approach a car, too scared someone would push him under it again. 

Neil and Wymack both try to talk to him, but Kevin won't say anything except to bark some orders when he sees fit, which is often. It's tiresome for everyone in the team, the mechanics start to bite back, and Wymack has to intervene and keep Kevin away from them. In the heavy atmosphere of the garage, Neil struggles to focus on his own weekend. He's falling back into his previous habits, unable to be consistent on his laps, and failing to anticipate his next moves early enough. He reaches Q3, though, and manages to secure P9 on the Sunday grid. It will have to do, especially when Kevin qualifies P15, the worst starting position of his F1 career. 

It becomes clear Kevin is going to be useless for tomorrow's race, so the team only relies on Neil to score points. Riko and Jean have a fair advance already, Andrew and Aaron are not far behind, and soon, it will be impossible to catch up. Every single point matters. 

He spends the evening studying their plans with Wymack and the team strategists, and when morning comes, he leaves all thoughts of Kevin behind. He's on his own. 

The race starts, and Neil goes up in the ranking quickly. His car is fast, his reflexes sharp, and no one manages to hold him back for very long. He stops into the pits around the 35th lap, as planned, and returns on track with fresh tires without losing his spot on the ranking. The opportunity of a podium becomes attainable but, unfortunately, Andrew's red car appears soon in his vision field, and Neil's ascent abruptly stops. The Eden driver closes the door at every opportunity, no matter how hard Neil tries. It lasts for a while until Andrew suddenly dives to the side. In front of him, Jean quickly loses speed, suffering another engine failure. Luckily, they're close enough to the pit lane entry, so he can dive in without stopping the race. Neil's radio cracks. 

"Neil, with Moreau's retirement, you're now P4. It's time to go as fast as you can." 

"Where's Kevin?" 

"P16 right now." 

That means Kevin is out of the points, and pretty much out of the race. Neil takes the instruction at heart and dives back into his chase even harder than before. If Kevin can't help them in the championship, Neil will have to do it alone. But Andrew's still a better driver than he is, and the opportunity doesn't come. The race is ending soon, and Neil is getting frustrated. The pressure he keeps on Andrew makes them both speed up, though, and they soon close up with the two leaders. There's barely less than a second between Aaron, who's leading and Neil, at the back of the pack. Between them, Andrew and Riko start to battle. At first, Neil thinks Andrew will try to overtake Riko, who's breathing down Aaron's neck. Instead, Andrew pressures Riko, forcing him to lose time on the corners, and it works as the other man multiplies his mistakes. They reach a straight line at the end of the chicane, and Riko leaves a large space on the side, wide enough so that any driver in his right mind would take the opportunity to dive in. But Andrew doesn't. He stays behind Riko, close enough to be threatening, but he doesn't take action. Neil sees the opportunity to pass them both, but it's already too late. Riko aggressively closes the door and shuts it until the end of the race, as Neil sees his first chance at a podium slip away. 

It is disappointing, but it doesn't matter. Neil finishes P4 and scores good points for the team. He doesn't regret his choices when he sees Kevin extracting himself from his car, clutching his hand. He looks murderous. 

"What happened to you? Are you hurt?" 

"Leave me the fuck alone", he spites before disappearing. 

"What's got into him?" 

Neil turns around to look at Andrew. His helmet's off, and sweat makes his hair stick to his forehead. Neil stares at it for a few seconds until he recovers and shrugs. 

"He's in a mood, nothing new."

Shouts ring out as Aaron throws himself at his mechanics, distracting them from Kevin's tantrum.

"You don't celebrate with your team?" 

Andrew shakes his head, his eyes fixed on his brother.

They watch the celebrations, and Neil asks the questions that have been on his tongue since the end of the race. 

"You let him win, didn't you?" 

Andrew looks at him and raises an eyebrow.

Neil clarifies. "You had every opportunity to go over Riko. You were faster, kept me stuck behind you for ages, but you missed every opportunity Riko gave you. If not for you blocking my trail, even I could have easily gone past both of them. Instead, you kept Riko's focus on you for the last ten laps while keeping me behind. Aaron was safe for most of the race because of you."

Andrew doesn't confirm or deny anything, which is admission enough. 

"Why did you do it?" 

Andrew doesn't answer, looking done with the conversation, and Neil doesn't push. 

Aaron finally frees himself from his team embrace and meets his brother for the podium ceremony. They don't hug, not really, but Aaron throws his arm over his brother's shoulders, and Andrew lets him, and it might be the closest Neil has ever seen them. He usually doesn't watch the podium, but he makes an exception this time. He gets closer, and soon Katelyn joins him. She doesn't say anything, but she grins, her eyes shining. Neil notices that most other grid drivers are also there, smiling and cheering. Riko is again on the podium, but seeing a new face on the highest march is a refreshing feeling. A reminder to all of them that it can happen. The ceremony comes to an end, and the crowd starts to disperse. Katelyn lays a hand on Neil's arm. 

"I'm going to go congratulate Aaron in person and then, we can go home?" 

Neil nods and watches her walk away, more relaxed than he's been in a long time. 

KATELYN

They've been running in silence for a while and Neil keeps throwing worried glances in her direction. Still, Katelyn ignores him and keeps running, lost in her own head. She hasn't been sleeping well since they flew back home to her father's house a few days ago, replaying the scene that took place in the Eden's garage over and over. She knows she's freaking out, and that it shows. It doesn't help in the slightest. 

They finally reach the beach at the bottom of the cliff, and she falls into a sitting position on the sand, out of breath. She enjoys the sun on her face for a few seconds before Neils stands in front of her, blocking the light. 

"You should drink something." 

Katelyn scowls but accepts the water bottle he gives her. 

Neil sits in front of her - the little shit didn't even break a sweat - and lays his chin on his palms, tracing shapeless patterns in the sand with his other hand. 

"Do you want to talk about it?" 

Katelyn considers. Neil has always been a good listener. He always asks, never pushes, never judges. She never used to keep things from him, and she shouldn't start now. 

"Aaron asked me out after the race." 

Neil's eyes widen, and the side of his mouth rises slightly in disgust, but he stays silent.

"We've been... seeing each other for a while now, actually. And he likes me. And," she hesitates, "I think I like him, too." 

Now, Neil just looks confused. "I'm not an expert in this type of thing, but I'm failing to see how this is a problem." 

Katelyn glares at him, but there's no heat. Neil's got a point. It shouldn't  be a problem. 

"The problem is I won't become the next Kayleigh Day if I lose time thinking about boys and relationships like a teenager." 

Neil nods thoughtfully. This is why Katelyn likes to speak to Neil. If she'd had the same conversation with Stuart, his dad's answer would have been to not forget her life. He would have reminded her that racing was not everything and that she had to find the right balance between her work and the rest. Neil, however, understands Katelyn's determination and goals because he has the same ones. He understands the idea of sacrificing all personal life for years if the prize is worth it. 

That's why his next words make no sense. 

"You should go for it." 

Katelyn opens her mouth, struggles to find an answer and closes it. Neil continues. "Aaron's a racing driver. He has the same will to win we do, so he'll understand your priorities more than any other boy could. From what I understand, you've been seeing each other for a while now. So the only difference is that you would make it official, is it not?" 

He's right. She  knows  that he's right. She's annoyed that he's right. She huffs. "It's not that easy." 

Neil shrugs sheepishly. "Maybe it isn't. I don't know, Kate. I can discuss racing and cars with you all you want, but I know nothing about relationships. Maybe you should ask someone who does?" 

And yes, actually, Katelyn knows precisely who she should ask. 

She stands up, dusting the sand from her running shorts and stretches. 

"Thank you for listening, though. You're the only one who knows; it's been killing me to keep it a secret." 

Neil smiles, and his eyes gleam. "Did you write about it in your journal? Did you draw a whole page full of hearts with "Katelyn Minyard" written in the centre?" 

"You're such a little shit." Katelyn scoffs before bolting without warning. "Race you to the top!" 

She laughs as she hears Neil scramble upright behind her, way too late. 

"Cheater!" 

If Allison is surprised to receive a text message from Katelyn during a week break, she doesn't show it and agrees enthusiastically to the coffee invitation. She brings Dan and Renee along, and all four girls meet in London in a luxury hotel cafe, where Allison assures them they won't be bothered by fans or paparazzi. 

She grabs her Margherita, falls deep into the comfortable chair next to Renee and exclaims, "we've never done a girls' night out before! How is this the first time? After that, it should become a regular thing. One night every month." 

Dan rolls her eyes. "We see each other almost every week already." 

"But it's for work," Allison says, disgusted. "We never do girls talk; we always talk about cars. I love cars, don't get me wrong, but I think I love gossip even more. Speaking of", she turns to Katelyn, a predatory smile on her face, "what did you want to talk about?"  

Three pairs of eyes turn to her, and Katelyn suddenly wonders if this is a good idea. She curses Neil for a second before taking a big breath. 

"I've been seeing someone. Someone on the grid." She winces when Allison squeals in delight. Renee squeezes her girlfriend's knee in warning before gesturing to Katelyn to keep going. 

"They want us to have a real relationship, and I'm... not sure if it's a good idea." Renee throws a warning glance at Allison, who bites her lips to keep her mouth shut, and Dan asks softly, "why wouldn't it be?" 

"Relationships are... distracting, I guess?" 

Renee smiles at that, and Dan laughs. 

"They sure are." 

"Doesn't dating another person on the grid divert you from your focus?" 

Allison shakes her head vigorously, grabbing Renee's hand. Dan takes more time to consider before she answers. 

"There was a time when I thought it might. And, yes, I never managed to win a race, but when I think about it, I don't think it was because of my relationship with Matt. It had everything to do with me, my car performances, my teams and the fact that this sport hates women. If anything, it helped that Matt and I could support each other. We were the only drivers not stressing over a long-distance relationship because we were always together. We've got a peculiar lifestyle, working and travelling all the time, and none of my previous boyfriends could ever understand the sacrifice it represented. Matt did because he was living it, too. I can't speak for him, but we were together when he won his two world championships. I don't think I ever held him back. I never felt like he did, either." 

Katelyn hesitates. "Have you ever been jealous? That he won and you didn't?" 

Dan laughs. "Of course I did. On the track, Matt is another rival, like anyone else, and winning is what we all aim for. But it never discouraged me, only pushed me to try even harder." 

"Ultimately, the choice is yours", Renee intervenes gently, "but I don't believe relationships are such a bad idea. On the contrary, being well surrounded might help you." 

"Even though I seriously question your taste in men," Allison adds petulantly. 

Katelyn chokes on her mojito. "I never told you who he is!" 

"Honey, your room is always next to mine. You're not as sneaky as you think you are." 

Katelyn feels her cheeks warm up dangerously, and Dan takes pity. 

"There's no denying it will always be harder for you, for us, than for anyone else because we'll always have to prove ourselves, no matter how good we are. Kayleigh Day proved a woman could dominate the grid, and none of us managed to win a race since then. All three of us have been on the grid for almost ten years. We never had competitive cars because we were never recruited by the big teams, or too late, in Alli's case, and now it'll never happen. We've got maybe one more season after this one until we retire. And honestly, I made my peace with it. On the other hand, you are still young, have a car that can finish in the top 5, and are an excellent driver. Show them. If you want a relationship, go for it. Don't stop yourself in case it is too distracting; it's not worth it. But if Aaron ever stands in your way, dump his ass. If any man tries to stop you, get rid of them."

"I'll drink to that!" Allison shouts, raising her glass, and Renee laughs. 

And maybe Katelyn will drink to that, too. 

Chapter Text

ANDREW 

They're racing in Monaco and Andrew is in a terrible mood. It's made worse by the fact that Monaco is Andrew's favourite race of the year, and he shouldn't be in a terrible mood; he should be able to enjoy his weekend. But sadly, Andrew knows people, and they're keen on talking to him. With words. Words ruin everything. 

Aaron is first. 

He approaches Andrew on Thursday morning, his douchebag sunglasses on his nose, his cap turned around, missing its entire purpose (which is: displaying the sponsor brand printed on the front. It's not even sunny out, for christ's sake). 

Aaron has a sheepish look on his face. The one he gets when he has something to announce, and he knows his brother won't like it. 

Andrew lets a painful sigh. 

"Spill it," he demands. 

Aaron worries his bottom lip with his teeth and says, "I just wanted you to know I've got a, ahem, a girlfriend?" 

Andrew raises an eyebrow. "Is that a question?" 

Aaron shakes his head briskly. "No, it isn't. I've got a girlfriend," he repeats, with assurance this time, "and she's going to be around, so it would be nice if you could be at least cordial with her." 

"How about I continue to ignore her like I do now?" 

"How do you know who she is?" 

Andrew levels his twin with an unimpressed stare, and Aaron rolls his eyes. 

"Right, okay, not so discreet with my pining, got it. Listen, ignore her if you want, just don't drive her away?" 

Andrew nods, and Aaron looks happy with that answer because he runs away, probably to tell Katelyn she doesn't have to hide from Andrew. Which she probably wouldn't have done anyway, because that girl always had more balls than Aaron. Truth is, Andrew doesn't mind Katelyn. She's smart, a good driver and doesn't try to talk to him unless she has to. She just so happens to be the girl Aaron fell in love with and thus will be the reason why Aaron will inevitably drift away from Andrew. Unless Andrew leaves first. 

Because Andrew can't catch a break, Katelyn brings her own nuisance with her, so he's on the first row to witness the expression on Neil's face when he sees Aaron and Katelyn kissing in public for the first time. 

It's just the four of them, early on Friday morning, and Katelyn apparently decided to stop by the Eden garage as soon as she arrived on the circuit. Neil is with her, of course, because those two are almost as co-dependent as Andrew and Aaron. 

Neil - innocent, oblivious Neil - suspects nothing when Katelyn makes a beeline for Aaron. She leans down and the redhead's face goes from surprise to blatant disgust in a few seconds. He looks ready to gag and only seems to control himself when he notices Andrew watching him as if his Aaron-induced nausea might seem offensive to his identical twin. 

"When did this happen?" he asks. 

"Months ago," Andrew answers, just to fuck with him. 

Neil makes a face to show he knows  Andrew is fucking with him, and there's an awkward silence as Katelyn and Aaron whisper to each other in the corner. They look disgustingly happy, which may make Andrew feel a little nauseous, too. Aaron smiles brightly at something Katelyn says, something goofy, very un-Aaron-like, and it's a bit too much. All the bitterness Andrew keeps cautiously bottled up spills.

"That's why I let him win," he says, his voice tight. Neil looks speechless for a few seconds but recovers quickly like he knows exactly what Andrew is talking about.

"You let him win in Barcelona so he could smooch my cousin? What are you, a cheap wingman?" 

Andrew huffs, "Winning matters much more to him than it does to me. Aaron needs a contract for next year, so he needs to win. And he needs new friends."

"And you don't?" 

"I'm not planning on staying, for either." 

Neil stares at him. 

"Why?" 

"You ask an awful lot of questions." 

"You're 22. You're the most talented driver I know; you might even be better than Kevin. You could be a world champion. And you're planning to give up? Why ?" 

Of could, Kevin's mini-me wouldn't understand the difference between retiring and giving up. "You sound just like Day." 

"Well, yeah, but you make no sense. We're all trying our hardest here, but realistically, you're one of the only drivers on the grid able to tear down Riko's crown. Why don't you? Because you're bored? Or so you can preserve your brother's ego?"

"I don't have to explain anything to you." 

"No, you don't. But think about it. How long has it been since you tried to do something for yourself?" 

The question feels a little like a punch in the guts, and Andrew doesn't answer. After a while, Neil shrugs. He doesn't look like he's waiting for an answer, anyway. 

"I'll see you on the starting grid, Andrew," he says before walking away. 

With Aaron, then Neil, Andrew's weekend is ruined. It starts pouring on Friday night and the rain doesn't stop all weekend, reflecting his mood, like his soul is linked to the track. Maybe it is. Monaco is twisty, and intricate and Andrew has always liked street circuits, but this one is his favourite. It's ruthless, quick and precise and leaves no margin for error or space to take over. Besides, it's home. No plane to catch, no jetlag. Andrew lives just down the street. But none of this is enough to clear the dark cloud on his brain. 

Because you're bored? Or so you can preserve your brother's ego?

When Andrew was a kid, his goal was to get the quickest car and to drive fastest than anyone else in the world. He's done that. Later, as a teenager, he promised his newly found brother they would reach F1 together. They've done that, too. 

Now, Andrew's only wish is to manage to keep all of that, but he sets himself up for disappointment. Engines he gets. People, he doesn't. Never has. He could try to win the championship, but winning has never been something he had an interest in. It was a necessity to go further, nothing more. Until now. 

He doesn't have a purpose in life anymore, and he's finally starting to realize that, well, it's killing him. He knows he must let Aaron go because if he holds on too tight, it might ruin the precarious but genuine relationship they've built. He already lost Kevin and that was his mistake. What's left, then?

He pours all of his frustration on his driving and manages to secure an easy third place on the grid during qualifications behind Jean and Riko.  

On Sunday afternoon, the rain keeps falling steadily, but all cars are prepared on the grid at the scheduled time. The formation lap starts, only minutes before the start of the race, but next to him, in the 4th position, Aaron's car stalls and stops. When Andrew gets back to the starting grid to position himself on his spot on the grid, Aaron's out of his car, running to take shelter from the rain, and the one-seater is being pushed back into the pit lane. He's out of the race before it even began. Right. No need to help his brother on this one, then. Neil's words resonate in his head. 

How long has it been since you tried to do something for yourself?

The engine hums as the red lights slowly turn on, one after the other. 

What if Andrew tries to win this one? What happens then? 

The light turns off and all the cars move at the same time. Jean holds his lead and flies away into the first corner, but Andrew's attention is on Riko. He dives on the inside and uses the pit lane exit to pass the Raven driver, who hesitates for a quarter of a second too long. Behind them, Kevin has filled Aaron's 4th place, his annoying piece of work of a teammate not far behind.

It looks like the rain is finally starting to fade, but Andrew keeps his distance from Jean for a few laps, close racing being made difficult by the spray thrown up by the wheels. 

He takes a corner a little too fast and loses control of his car as it slides on the sloppy asphalt. It only lasts a heartbeat, but it's enough for him to make contact with the barriers. Andrew huffs annoyingly and almost immediately punches his radio button. 

"I need a new front wing." His engineer confirms, and a few seconds later, Andrew gets an idea. 

"While you're at it, give me inters." 

"You sure about that? It's still raining pretty hard." 

"The rain's stopping. Inters." 

And without waiting for confirmation, he dives into the pit. His mechanics are ready, though, and the stop is fast, and he goes out P5, with a new front wing and fresh intermediate tires instead of his previous full wet ones, only 7 laps after the beginning of the race. He has barely made it through two corners when a yellow flag flashes on his steering wheel screen. Andrew sighs. 

"What now?" 

"Jack and Sheena just crashed... again. The marshals have to separate both cars and lift them off the track, it might take a while."

It takes three laps at reduced speed for the marshals to clear the track and for the race to start again. Stuck behind the safety car, Jean's advance has been reduced to nothing and soon enough Andrew can see the Raven's rear wing from afar. There are also only three cars in front when there should be four. Where the hell is...

"Andrew, Riko has been called back to the pits by his team. He's got a 5 seconds penalty for overtaking under yellow flag so he should go out behind you. In front are Hatford, Day and Moreau." 

Good. That means Andrew won't have to lose time by getting rid of him. 

In front, Kevin just went past Jean and is now leading the race. The rain finally stopped, and a dry line starts to show on the asphalt. Andrew reports his focus on Neil and patiently waits for an opportunity to take over. It lasts a few laps until Neil accidentally puts two wheels on the wet part of the track and slides too close to the barriers, just like Andrew did a few laps before. Andrew can see his front wing is missing a part, and it's confirmed when Neil enters the pit lane a few moments later. 

One done, two more to go. 

The race is far from over and Andrew decides to take his time. Kevin and Jean swap place twice again until Andrew's early stop for inters finally turns to his advantage when both leaders still in full wets have to pit for a change of tires. 

On lap 45, Andrew is leading the Monaco Grand Prix. He feels the adrenalin rush through his guts and tames it immediately. He'll deal with it later. He pushes down every feeling - a complicated mix of hunger, savage joy and anger - and focuses only on his driving.

He extends his lead over Jean by a few seconds, out of spite, and earns a comfortable advance to get into the pits for a last tire change before going out again without losing his spot. 

He stays unchallenged until he reaches the checkered flag and wins the race. 

Andrew stays for a while in his car, his ears uncomfortably buzzing, hidden in the safety of his helmet. Every emotion he managed to keep at bay while driving surges back, for the first time in years, and Andrew forgot how to process the intensity of it. Some part of him wants to be happy and celebrate. Aaron would. But Andrew is not Aaron and hasn't felt the desire to win or celebrate anything for a very long time. Why he got the will to try again today is a mystery. Except it's not, not really, because if Andrew stops lying to himself for a second, he'll have to accept he only did it because Neil asked him to. Because Andrew wanted to. 

It's not like no one has tried before. Aaron asked countless times. It was always a recurring point of argument with Kevin. Even Bee tried a few times. But Andrew could never see the point. 

Then Neil Hatford barges in, with his rookie skills, his hunger and his blue eyes and all of a sudden, Andrew fights to win races. All of a sudden, Andrew wants. And he can't even be mad because, under the twirling mess of his emotions, Andrew knows he had fun. 

He extracts himself from his car, and he's never been more grateful for his Mum, because she's the first one to greet him. Bee holds him tight, her eyes shining and there's a little bit of joy tugging at Andrew's stomach because he's the one who made her this happy. She leads him all the way to the podium, shielding him from everyone else, only allowing Aaron and Nicky in their bubble. 

KEVIN 

"Kevin, with his 2nd place result today, Jean Moreau is taking the lead of the championship, in front of his teammate. You're third for now, it's only the 5th race of the season, of course, but what do you think you need to do to catch up?"

"Well, obviously, we've got issues with the car we're trying to fix. We're a young team, so our strategy lacks a little rigour for now, but we're already seeing progress." 

And the driver needs to get a grip, Kevin thinks bitterly, as the journalist nods at his answer.

He's been out of it since Miami, and it shows on his results. He barely managed a podium today, but he's nowhere near the level he should be, and everyone on his team knows it. His hand hurts night and day. Now that Jean is leading the championship, he knows Riko will go mad with rage, and the thought keeps him awake at night. 

Andrew's win lightens his mood more than he thought it would. 

He's debriefing the race with Neil when Andrew stops next to them. He pays no attention to Kevin, looks at Neil and says, "You owe me the next one."

Neil smiles softly and nods, and Andrew walks away. 

"What was that?" 

"Nothing."

"Neil." 

Neil blows an annoyed breath. "We had a conversation about motivation, Kevin, it's none of your business." 

"Wait."

It takes a while to connect the dots.

"Since when do you talk to Andrew? What do you owe him? Did he win because you both talked?" 

Neil huffs. 

"Why are you making such a big deal about this? I just asked him to try to win, to see how that would make him feel. You should know how much mental is important, right?" he asks with a pointed look. Kevin ignores it. 

"You just asked... Neil, Andrew doesn't care about winning. He never did." 

"Well, either now he does, or you didn't know him as well as you think you did." 

That shuts Kevin up. 

Chapter Text

It only lasts five seconds. 

5

The impact is unexpected. It comes from behind, and he didn’t see it coming. Before anything can be done, he’s pushed roughly out of the track, and the car starts sliding off of its own volition.

4

The car keeps drifting, but it was going fast before, and it doesn’t lose speed quickly enough. The brakes are not responding. He tries to regain control and directs it to the side, hoping to avoid the other cars behind. 

3

The steering wheel starts flashing all kinds of failure warnings. He’s not slowing down. 

2 

Gravels finally roll under the wheels, and there’s a small, short wave of relief down his spine. The car is going to slow down. He’s going to be fine. 

1

All it takes is one little spark under the car’s floor. 

There’s a deafening noise, and a bright, bright light. 

And everything goes dark. 

Earlier, the same day.

NEIL 

Weeks pass. They fly to Canada, then Azerbaïdjan, before returning to the United Kingdom. Jean wins both races, Andrew right behind him each time, and extends his advance in the championship. Meanwhile, Kevin grows more anxious each day, and manages another podium but gets stuck behind Riko each time. It drives Wymack and Neil insane, but they keep quiet because every attempt to talk to Kevin has ended up in him drifting further away. 

At least, racing in England means they’ll stay in the same time zone for a little while, and they can catch a break from all the travelling. 

Neil likes Silverstone. It’s the first real circuit he’s ever driven on when he was a kid and it’s his and Katelyn’s home race. It’s also Seth’s, who’s been parading with a Union Jack hat all weekend and keeps dropping it on Kevin’s head. Kevin, proud, Irish Kevin, is annoyed to no end and is minutes away from throwing his fist into Seth’s eye and painting it green. Neil hopes he does. Not that he cares, but seeing Kevin punch someone is always funny. And a worked up Kevin is a Kevin that doesn't mope around. 

There are giant posters of the Hatford cousins everywhere on the grandstands, large pictures of them posing back to back, arms crossed. Fans are chanting their name in the stands, the noise making the ground tremble under Neil's feet. He has fans in every country they go to, but the British ones are always something else. So, British fans, at their home race? A little intimidating. Mostly thrilling. 

Charlotte has done a wonderful job handling the story of Nathan’s trial. The press stopped asking questions early on when they realized nothing would come of it. There was a short period when some so-called fans started pulling out Murderer signs in the grandstands during races. However, Wymack reported it to the FIA, and after some controls, it remained an isolated incident. Now, the only signs mentioning Neil display  either his number - the 10 - or the Hatford name, always with the bright orange colour of the Palmetto team. 

It’s a nice feeling. It makes Neil want to do better each week. And so he does. He hasn’t scored a podium yet, but his performances improve race after race, along with his growing fanbase. 

Pushed by the electric ambience at Silverstone, his pumped motivation gets him easily in the top five at qualifications. He secures third place on the starting grid, in front of Kevin, and the crowd goes wild. It’s his best starting position yet. 

It’s July already, and when Sunday comes, there’s no shadow of a cloud in the British sky. It’s not too warm, though, and the racing conditions could not be more perfect, Neil thinks as he pulls down his visor, ready to go. 

The race starts and it takes three laps until an uneasy feeling sets in Neil’s guts. As soon as the lights turned off, Jean took off flying, leaving Riko and Neil to battle behind him. Except Riko doesn’t fight. He doesn’t try to chase after his teammate, going just quick enough to keep Neil and the rest of the grid behind him. It’s not bad driving by any means, but Neil knows Riko’s style, sharp and aggressive, not unlike his own. He never backs off of a chance to win, never mind if it’s the beginning of the race or the very last corner before the finish line. And Riko never, ever loses an opportunity to beat his own teammate, whoever that is. 

But right now, Jean flies away, and Riko doesn’t try to follow. 

“Colby, does Riko have an issue?” 

“Not that I know of. I’ll come back to you.” 

Then why is he so slow ? 

An old, long-forgotten fear resurfaces in Neil’s head, and he tries to push it down immediately. He’s been in Riko’s way pretty often in the last few races. What if Riko’s had enough? What if he’s planning to get rid of Neil, like he tried to get rid of Kevin a little more than a year ago? 

Distracted, Neil takes the next corner too wide and puts all four wheels out of the track. He swears and forces down all thoughts of Riko as he tries to gain his focus back. There will be no need for the Japanese driver to take him out if Neil goes straight into the wall by himself, first. 

He painfully regains focus, but his mistake cost him a few precious milliseconds. It extends his gap with Riko, though, which is probably for the best. 

“Neil, no known issue with Riko’s car,” Colby confirms in his ear. 

If the car's not in cause, the driver is. Better keep his distance, then. Behind him, Kevin looks careful, too. Either he figured out something’s not right, or his own engineer warned him, but he doesn’t try to push past Neil, closing the door on Aaron behind him, with surgical precision. They maintain this for a few laps, but soon enough, Neil can see Aaron growing restless behind Kevin, who has to speed up, putting more pressure on Neil. 

In front, Riko slows down even more, and whatever his reasons are, Neil is running out of excuses to not take over. Colby presses him on his radio, and Neil definitely pushes his doubts back. They need the points, and he can’t sacrifice his race and Kevin’s for a bad feeling. Teeth clenched, he waits for the next corner, goes wide on the outside, pushes on the throttle and... 

Nothing happens. He flies by, and Riko doesn’t try anything. Before he knows it, Neil's in front, and the path is clear. If Neil wasn’t driving a racing car right now, he would smack himself in the head. Instead, he settles for snarling in his helmet as he crushes the gas pedal under his foot. So much time was lost being afraid of Riko’s reaction, just like when he was 12 years old. So much time was lost when he had promised himself that would never happen again, when he’s never been closer to a win before. 

Anger coils down his veins, and he stops trying to tame it. If Riko can still get into his head, he’ll have to compensate the same way he did as a teenager: head first, no matter the consequences. He bites another curse and sets after Jean, far ahead.

It takes an embarrassing time to catch up with the leading car, but Neil gets there eventually, clawing up each second that separates him from Jean. Thankfully, Neil is wickedly fast, always has been, and more importantly, Neil knows Jean as much as he knows Riko. So as soon as the black car comes into sight, he shadows his prey, waiting for the right moment to jump. 

While Neil and Riko have always been hot-headed and aggressive, Jean and Kevin are more thoughtful and cautious, relying more on strategy and facts than instinct. Jean would never have fallen into Riko’s little mind trap, Neil thinks, bitterly, as he tries to feint Jean into a corner to push him to make a mistake. It doesn’t work, as Jean easily glides exactly where he’s supposed to be, unbothered by Neil’s attempt. It’s bloody frustrating but at least it’s clean racing, and so, Neil perseveres. 

Forty-four laps in and countless tries later, Neil is still stuck behind Jean, and he’s increasingly losing grip. Jean’s tires are clearly suffering too, though, because they’ve both lost a lot of speed as the first blue flag comes into view. Jack’s car appears in front of them, and Jean goes wide, waiting for the other driver - a lap late - to let him through without any trouble, as per the rules. It’s a no-brainer, and Neil prepares himself to do the same, leaving some space between him and Jean. 

No one expects the Catamount driver to dive right into the Raven’s rear tires as soon as he gets taken over. 

Maybe it’s lightning-quick reflexes, maybe it’s luck, maybe it’s a little bit of both but Neil’s heart misses a beat, and it’s exactly the amount the time he needs to violently jump on the brakes. The car roughly bumps into the gravel, but because he’d already started braking before the impact, he stops it without more damage than a few bruises.

Jean is not that lucky. The back car slides at an awful pace into the gravel with an atrocious screeching noise. Both its back tires are gone, and the floor of the car scrapes against the ground. There are sparks everywhere, but it looks like it won’t be enough for the one-sitter to slow down before hitting the wall. 

Jean never makes it to the wall. In front of Neil’s and the entire crowd’s eyes, the black car explodes.

KEVIN 

The red flag signal appears on Kevin’s steering wheel as he’s finally building up the courage to take over Riko. He breathes out a curse and falls at the appropriate speed to return to the pit lane. His screen indicates the incident happened to the speed trap between the first and the second sectors, on the opposite side of the circuit, so he doesn’t have to get through it on his way back. 

He smells the smoke before he sees it; a black column swirling in the clear sky. Way too large to be caused by flares. A chill crosses his spine. Fire is never a good sign. 

He stops the car in the pit lane, jumps out and takes off his helmet. Immediately, he hears the shouts, words about an explosion, the fire, and the driver stuck inside. 

His eyes quickly scan the cars there, making a head count. There only are 17 of them back. Andrew and Aaron are both here. Katelyn jumps out of her cockpit and tears her helmet off. She looks like she’s frantically searching for something, someone, and finally, she notices Kevin. Their eyes meet, and Kevin reads the terror in hers. 

Neil. Neil has yet to make it back. Neil is missing. 

A hand claws at his heart as he sprints towards his team’s pit wall, Katelyn on his heels. His father is waiting there, face closed off. 

“Where is he?! Where is Neil?” 

“Being escorted out of the track. He just got into the ambulance.” 

Relief punches Kevin in the gut, and he takes a second to catch his breath. 

“Is he hurt?” Katelyn asks. 

“Not that I know of.” 

This is good. This is good, right? Neil is safe. Neil is unhurt. So why does Kevin’s father - his force of nature of a father - looks like he’s going to throw up? 

“What about Jean?” Katelyn says, her voice trembling. 

What about Jean? Kevin’s fogged-up brain asks. 

“Still in.” 

Katelyn lets out a sob, and Kevin raises his eyes to the screen for the first time. A black car is burning, surrounded by marshals desperately trying to extinguish the fire. Kevin sees the number 3 on it, barely visible through the flames. Jean’s car is burning. And Jean is stuck inside it. 

Kevin is on his knees. He doesn’t remember falling, but it hurts, so he must have hit the ground pretty hard. It’s nothing compared to the pain in his lungs. He smells the smoke, and he can’t breathe, it’s like he’s stuck in the fire, and he cannot breathe. He hears voices, but there’s so much noise and his ears are clogged like he’s underwater. 

A weight falls into the back of his neck. He recoils and the weight disappears before coming back, softer, lighter. 

“Kevin, stop.” 

The voice rings above the noise. The smoke keeps filling his lungs. 

“Kevin, focus on my voice. You need to breathe.” 

A memory comes to Kevin's mind, about this voice, and the weight on the back of his neck. Finally, his brain clears up just enough to supply the answer. 

Andrew. 

“Kevin, he’s out. They dragged him out of the car. It’s over.” 

The smoke clears alongside the fog, and the air slowly returns to his lungs. He closes his eyes. 

“It’s over”. 

NEIL 

What happens next is a blur. 

He stays frozen, hands on the wheel, unable to move, unable to comprehend what’s happening. His ears are still ringing from the noise of the deflagration. 

He doesn’t know how long he stays there. It’s an awfully long time because, despite their best efforts, the marshals didn’t succeed to pull Jean out of this hell, yet. Maybe it’s been minutes, hours or days, and Jean is still in there, somewhere. 

There are people yelling, and Neil realizes some of them are yelling at him, to get out of his car, but he doesn’t know how. That would mean tearing his gaze out of the fire, but Jean is still in there, and Neil doesn’t think he can look elsewhere. A man in a fluorescent orange suit approaches him and calls his name. Neil doesn’t move. The man bends over the halo, and slowly, softly, tugs on Neil’s fingers, one by one, to release his grip on his wheel. It takes a while, and in the meantime, Jean is still in the fire. 

Until finally, finally, one of the marshalls starts shouting even louder, waving his arms, and another comes to help him, and then a third and together, they pull a lifeless form out of the cockpit, black as a shadow. 

The man standing over him pulls at the last of his fingers, and Neil finally raises his head to look at him. Their eyes cross through their respective visors, and the man doesn’t say anything, but his eyes tell that he understands the dread and the terror that’s going through every single one of Neil’s nerves because he feels the same. Neil doesn’t know if Jean is still alive or if he’s already dead. But Jean is out of the fire. So Neil's head comes to an understanding with his limbs, and slowly, painfully, he extracts himself from his car and lets himself be led to the ambulance. 

He’s released soon after because the doctors can’t find a good reason to keep him. He’s physically fine, and nothing can be done about his head, at least for now. He thinks he asks them about Jean, but they don’t tell him anything. Wymack collects him out of the medical centre and hugs him, which is weird, and unexpected but not unwelcome. Katelyn and Stuart are there next, and her hug is expected, and Neil’s composure starts to crumble, but he holds on. She’s still wearing her racing suit because, officially, they’re still under red flag; the race is not over. All of them are expected to go back for the last eight laps, Neil knows. All of them but Jean. 

“It’s over for you, kid,” Wymack says like he’s been reading his thoughts. Neil raises his head in his direction and frowns, as his Team principal adds, “too much damage in the car.”

Neil doesn’t think that’s true. He’s had worse crashes than this one before, and the car was fine. He feels like protesting for a second, but it doesn’t feel worth it. Wymack probably declared him out to the race directors, anyway. 

Escorted by his cousin and his uncle, Neil returns to the garage. He sees nothing else but grim faces and tear-streaked cheeks everywhere around him. The usual careful organization of the paddock has been forgotten, and people from all teams mix, exchanging comfort words and rare pieces of information. Some people try to talk to him. He ignores them. 

Neil sees Dan tucked at Matt’s side. Her eyes are dry, but she’s crushing her boyfriend’s hand so hard her joints are white. Robin is arguing with an older woman Neil assumes is her mother, about whether she should get back on track. Renée, usually so calm and composed, looks ready to murder someone. 

Riko is nowhere to be seen. 

“He followed Jean to the hospital”, someone says. 

“He couldn’t bear staying to watch,” someone else answers. 

It’s all bullshit. Neil would scoff if he remembered how because he knows Riko. When racing is involved, compassion is the last of his worries; Neil has experienced it first-hand for years. So what probably happened is that Tsetuji pulled Riko away to preserve his public image and started those rumours. There’s nothing the Moriyamas are better at than marketing. 

They find Kevin in the Palmetto garage, looking worse for wear. Behind him, like a vigil, Andrew stands out, his red suit clashing with the orange of the walls. It reminds Neil of Kevin’s Raven days when he could not be seen anywhere without Andrew by his side. Thinking about Kevin in Raven’s colours also reminds him of Jean, and Neil closes his eyes hard and shakes his head like it’ll make the thought go away. 

“He’s alive,” Kevin says, his voice hollow, when they reach him. “It’s just been confirmed. He’s badly burned, they don’t know if he’ll go through the night, but for now, he’s alive.”  

No one says anything, not daring to feel relieved too fast. Neil, who hasn’t said a word since the explosion - or did he? - nods and leaves the garage as the stewards announce the countdown until the race resumes. For the first time in his life, he doesn’t want to watch, he wants no part of it. 

Riko wins.