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D-1 Before the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix
“You know we shouldn’t be meeting like this,” Mingyu whisks his wine around the glass before taking a sip. The bittersweet taste of fermented grape travels down his throat.
Wonwoo stands against the hotel window, watching Mingyu in the reflection. “But you came here anyway.”
“What do you want from me?” Mingyu’s wine glass clinks on the desk, making Wonwoo finally turn around.
“When Seungcheol bagged the number one spot after his eleventh win, I think we can both agree that the season has become pointless.” Wonwoo can still remember when Seungcheol started making the gap between the first and second spots wider. After his eleventh consecutive win this season, almost everyone gave up on trying to beat him.
Mingyu smirks, huffing at Wonwoo’s attitude, “Pointless to you who stopped trying.”
Almost everyone gave up on grabbing the top spot, except for Mingyu, Seungcheol’s teammate and number one rival.
“You’re just trying because you’re ashamed you can’t catch up to him.”
“And you’re not trying hard enough because no matter how hard you try, the World Champion title is slipping out of your hands… Again .”
Wonwoo walks over and takes the wine glass, heading to the bathroom to dump all of the remaining wine in the sink. “It’s the night before a race and you have the guts to drink?”
Mingyu was already by the bathroom door watching Wonwoo, his arms crossed, that stupid smirk still plastered on his face. “Just tell me, Jeon. What do you want from me?”
Wonwoo slowly walks over to Mingyu until their faces are inches apart. He glares up at him, so tall and mighty, ruthless for even letting him beg like this.
“We’re points apart in the driver standings, Mingyu.”
“And?” Mingyu leans closer to Wonwoo, waiting for what he wants to hear. Mingyu knows it already, but there’s no satisfaction in basing on his assumptions when he can just hear it from Wonwoo instead.
“Give me P2 in the driver standings, Mingyu. We both know damn well how much my team needs this.” Wonwoo says through gritted teeth, amusing Mingyu.
It’s fun to see Wonwoo like this - so desperate, almost going down on his knees to get what he wants. “You’re forgetting something, Jeon.”
“No-”
“No or you disappoint your whole team?”
Wonwoo can’t even retort to Mingyu’s antics. Knowing him, he was probably serious about taking away his offer if he didn’t do what was asked.
Wonwoo sighed in defeat, staring into Mingyu’s eyes, “Please, Mingyu. Please give me P2.”
Mingyu grins and walks away, grabbing the jacket he hung on the chair. “You just secured yourself P2 for the 2023 driver standings, Wonwoo. Congratulations.”
Mingyu was about to twist the door open until he felt a cold hand on his wrist. “What now? I can already see the headlines, Jeon. Mercedes’ Jeon Wonwoo sparks hope at regaining his title for World Champion next season! ”
The tone is almost mocking, but behind that tone, Mingyu is genuinely happy that Wonwoo could bask in his former glory.
Everything about Mingyu is annoying - from the way he always catches you when your guard is down mid-race or the way he’ll sneak in teasing whispers in celebratory dinners - Wonwoo swears he hates it. Hates that he acts so high and mighty, hates that they have to go against each other like this.
“If my trainer finds out that I’m not in bed at this hour, I swear to God, Je-”
Wonwoo pulls Mingyu by the collar of his jacket and leaves him a kiss before he goes. Mingyu finds his hand immediately by Wonwoo’s nape, leaning into his lips.
“I fucking hate you, Mingyu. I hope you know that.” Wonwoo pulls away, eyes glued to the floor. The taller’s thumb caresses his cheek.
“I’ll see you at the race tomorrow. Don’t miss me too much.” In return, Mingyu plants a kiss on the top of his head before leaving, making sure Wonwoo will be able to feel it until the race next morning.
ABU DHABI GP D-DAY.
With both Red Bulls on the front row of the grid, Wonwoo paces back and forth in the paddock with music blasting through his headphones to ease some nerves. He’s highly aware that he’s the team’s last shot at winning points during this final race. Usually this would fuel him, but today, it seems to be haunting.
“Jeon,” He feels a hand on his shoulder and he immediately takes off his headphones, turning to the source of the voice. “You feeling alright?”
Since his rookie year, their team principal always checks on him before the start of each race. Wonwoo’s anxiousness is well-kept and regulated, but their principal always catches him in the corner of his eye. There is no escaping his questions and worry, but perhaps it’s what always does the job to keep Wonwoo sane.
“Nervous, but alright. Nothing I can’t do,” Wonwoo gave a tight-lipped smile to their principal, but it wasn’t enough to convince the latter that he was okay. “If I fuck up today, who knows what’ll happen to me next season? Heck, I don’t even know if I’ll still be here to know!”
“Calm down, kid. You’re stressing yourself too much,” The principal turns Wonwoo around and makes the anxious driver look at him. “You built this entire team’s reputation the moment you decided to drive for us and not once have you let us down.”
The principal takes his index finger and points it to Wonwoo’s chest, “Every single person in this room right now will always be looking at you as if you’re the best in the world because it’s true — you are the best, and it’s just you who fails to see it.”
Wonwoo’s heart becomes steady. It’s as if he came to a revelation he’s been waiting for his entire career.
I am the best. I can do it. I will win.
Wonwoo has been in the world of Formula 1 for as long as he can remember. Uncles who were mechanics, aunts who were strategists, a father who was an F1 driver himself — in simple words, this is all he’s ever known and all he will ever be — some boy in a fast car with the drive to win .
In Formula 1, it’s important to give way to others for the sake of a strategy: follow the last-minute decisions of the race engineer, make a teammate pass through because they have higher chances of winning, and deliberately not perform your best for reasons unknown. It requires a lot of patience, generosity, and acceptance to not let races have a huge mental toll on a driver.
It’s during moments of being generous when Wonwoo tends to forget the alternative to having generosity as your strength: pure selfishness.
In a world where even your teammate is a rival, you need to know when to be giving and when to be selfish. Wonwoo looks back on his early career and remembers why he kept succeeding and why he reigned as a world champion over many years.
Jeon Wonwoo was ruthless. He was daring, determined, and even reckless on all his drives. At times he may be arrogant, standing above everyone thinking he knows what he does best, but it’s true. He does know it best, and he won’t let anyone else stand in his way.
The circuit was Wonwoo’s kingdom, and it was about time he ruled it again.
ABU DHABI GP. MINUTE BEFORE LIGHTS OUT.
“It’s almost lights out here in the Yas Marina circuit, and the drivers are already making their way to the grid,” The commentator says as different cars are driving in zigzag directions toward their spots to warm up their tires. “It’s two Red Bulls on the front row, with Lee Chan in papaya right behind them.”
“Lee Chan did amazing laps at qualifying yesterday! It seems that McLaren won’t be letting go of him any time soon.”
“Letting go of a talent like him would be a grave mistake, mate.”
While the commentators chatter along, Wonwoo speeds onto the circuit, driving left to right, right to left. The crowd roars as he slips back into his position, waving flags and banners with his name and face on them.
“Any issues with the car?” The race engineer asks over the radio, his voice a bit static and robotic.
“None so far. Feeling pretty good.” He comes to a stop at the sixth spot on the grid.
“There goes Jeon Wonwoo in his Mercedes! This race marks his seventh here in Abu Dhabi.”
“That’s right,” the second commentator affirms. “Jeon’s familiarity with the track will definitely give him an upper hand today, but let’s see if he uses it to his advantage.”
It’s a blessing drivers can’t hear commentary through their radio. If Wonwoo were to hear all this, the tremendous pressure on his shoulders would only multiply tenfold.
“Here goes the count, and we’re a few seconds away from our final race of the season here in Abu Dhabi!”
The pitch-black stoplights turn red one by one every second.
Five. Wonwoo’s grip on the wheel tightens.
Four. Wonwoo turns to look at the car beside him and he’s greeted with forest green livery. Inside sits Hong Jisoo at P7.
Three. Mingyu only looks ahead. Right now, he only has two people in mind – his rival, Seungcheol, and the real winner they’ll have today, Wonwoo.
Two. All eyes are forward. There’s no time to think about anything else now.
One.
“It’s lights out and away we go! Choi Seungcheol is already ahead and Boo Seungkwan is making a great start!”
The people on the grandstand stand up and keep their eyes open to watch the cars zoom in front of them, not wanting to miss any second by just a blink.
“There’s Hong Jisoo in an Aston Martin, trying to squeeze his way in between Jeon and Wen, but he fails! Jeon Wonwoo defends his position and now makes it past Boo Seungkwan in the McLaren.”
All the fans wearing orange boo at this, but the Mercedes fans mixed in the crowd start to cheer.
From a watcher’s point of view, the race looks fast and easy. What they don’t know is that inside the car, all drivers are suffocating inside a tiny cockpit with barely any space to manage. Wonwoo who has raced for half of his life already made his way around this, and there was no way he would let it get the best of him now.
The first four laps ended in the blink of an eye, and before everyone knew it, the drivers were already circling the track for the twentieth time. This is the point where the intervals start to grow; from 1-second gaps to 3 seconds, it starts to become obvious who’s dominating and who’s getting left behind.
“Kim Mingyu is trailing behind world champion Choi Seungcheol who is leading the race, and on his tail is Lee Chan, our raging rookie for this season.”
Mingyu tries his best to keep Chan away, his race engineer blabbering about their gap. “He’s a tenth of a second away. Keep pushing, Mingyu.”
“Fuck! Is he still there?”
The crowd holds their breath as Lee Chan comes closer, positioning himself to pass Mingyu by the outside.
“Let him pass and take his position after.”
“That’s a bit cruel, isn’t it?” Mingyu scoffs, agreeing to the engineer’s instructions. McLaren fans stand and scream in joy once Lee Chan makes his way through to chase Seungcheol.
“Should I let him relish in this short victory for a bit longer?”
“Your decision.” And Mingyu finally makes his turn into the DRS zone. His eyes trail the orange car, trying to make its way over to Seungcheol who was 2 seconds away.
Sorry, Chan. Your happiness needs to come to an end now. Mingyu speeds close to Lee Chan to utilize the slipstream.
“Look at Mingyu already back at Lee Chan’s tail! He isn’t letting anyone take his place today!”
While Mingyu stole back his position, Wonwoo was sandwiched between the two Ferraris at the back — Minghao and Soonyoung.
Minghao drives into the pit lane and Wonwoo laughs. “Did he really just do that?”
“Yes. Use this chance to get past the other Ferrari, please.” His race engineer instructs, and he builds his momentum behind Soonyoung.
His presence starts to loom over Soonyoung and he can tell from the faint screams he can still hear over the engines. Minghao falls to P8 and Wonwoo catches up to P4 after getting through the Ferrari.
“Jeon is out of the Ferrari predicament and widens the gap between him and Kwon!”
Both Wonwoo and Soonyoung turn to a DRS zone, and he gets a warning from the race engineer. “Kwon is trying to overtake. Defend your position.”
They go wheel to wheel at the turn, but thankfully, there were no collisions, and no one took Wonwoo’s spot.
“Kwon tried stealing his position back but failed! Jeon continues in P4 and is making good use of the fast lane. Just ahead is Seungkwan who switched places with his teammate Lee Chan.”
The battle for the podium continues. Now and then Wonwoo will come across different drivers trying to throw him off, gaining on him to no avail, only to be met with the same McLaren ahead of him.
During the 33rd lap, there was a bit of fear that trickled down Wonwoo’s neck. He focused so much on the fact that he needed to see Mingyu on this track that he forgot about his other opponent: Wen Junhui, his teammate.
During a few laps, they just followed each other, earning groans from the crowd when one lost his place, and cheers when he gained it back. It seemed like a never-ending give-and-take situation.
“What’s the plan with Junhui?” He scoffs, starting to get on edge. As Junhui drives behind, he wonders if they’re going to let them switch places again, something he can’t afford to follow right now.
“Stay put. We’re still deciding.”
He groans, “You don’t have time to do that!”
In all honesty, Wonwoo didn’t need any instructions. No matter what he told them, he would still prioritize his win. There’s no room for giving right now and no room to have his seat open by the end of this race.
A few seconds pass before the radio turns on again, “This is your race, Jeon. Junhui will be compromising.”
They turn to a DRS zone again, but only Wonwoo is granted to use his DRS. The gap between Wonwoo and Junhui starts to widen, and he is removed from Wonwoo’s watch-out list.
By the 45th lap, Wonwoo’s prepared to overtake Seungkwan, and the crowd holds their breath as he gains behind him.
“Look at Jeon creating a threat for Boo who has maintained P3 for the last 10 laps! Mercedes is creating an intimidating air on the track today. Let’s see how Boo in the McLaren manages.”
Now caught up in Seungkwan’s slipstream, Wonwoo starts moving to the outside.
“Jeon Wonwoo is going next to Seungkwan, and there he goes going straight past him! What a graceful and neat overtake that was.”
Wonwoo doesn’t sigh in relief until he’s at least 3 seconds away from Seungkwan. It’s hard to say that he’s secured a spot on the podium when there are still 13 laps left and tables can still be unexpectedly turned.
They run around the track over and over again, and to Wonwoo’s surprise, he is still in third place. He discovers on his 55th lap that Junhui has fallen to P7 and might suffer a penalty after colliding with Hansol at turn 9.
Mingyu is now 9 seconds away from Seungcheol, but Wonwoo is miraculously 2 seconds away from Mingyu.
“Would you look at that! Jeon in the Mercedes gains on Kim Mingyu and might finish today’s race on a higher spot on the podium!”
The energy that Wonwoo’s been saving starts to rush in his veins. He can see Mingyu’s car now as he makes his way closer to him.
Tension starts to build on the track and the crowd holds their breath once again, minds and hopes scattered all over the place. No one expected Wonwoo to perform this well after his poor results in Las Vegas.
“Who’s that behind me?” Mingyu asks.
“Jeon. Just go straight ahead, Mingyu.”
“I guess he finally made it,” Mingyu smirks under his helmet and leaves the race engineer puzzled. “Hey, I just wanted to say thank you for the hard work this year. You were an amazing race engineer as always.”
The commentators pick up on Mingyu’s radio, “What’s this? Kim Mingyu is already starting to express his gratitude to his team!”
“Looks like the exhaustion is catching up to him at the end of it all.”
Sparks start flying from under Wonwoo’s car, and he speeds next to Mingyu, staying there for a split second that seemed too long for the both of them.
It’s a shame that they’re tied up to their mics and can have their words broadcasted worldwide, but his staying there for a split second was his way of telling Mingyu what he couldn’t at the moment: Thank you.
Although unspoken, Mingyu got the message and started slowing down his pace in a way that people couldn’t tell he was deliberately doing it. It was his own way of saying six simple words in only a second: you’re welcome, congratulations, and I love you.
“What a surprising turn of events this is! Kim Mingyu falls behind and lets Jeon Wonwoo take over at P2! He still has a chance at taking this back in the last 3 laps, but it seems that Jeon is already after Choi!”
“Push to catch up to Jeon. There’s still a chance to finish this at P2, Mingyu.”
Mingyu lets Wonwoo drive away as if he didn’t hear a thing and he’s sure the team principal is burning red from anger at this very moment.
This is what the principal gets after underestimating him, forcing him to walk in Seungcheol’s shadow. If he gets to be under something – someone – then tonight he chooses to be under Wonwoo. He is the only person worthy of his praise tonight.
Wonwoo can finally sigh in relief and hold out the last three laps with ease. He has finally secured his spot, his points, and his seat for the next season, and maybe some time with a certain driver who he looks forward to seeing tonight.
He passes by the starting line thrice in the next three minutes, marking his final lap, and the excitement from the whole circuit just continues to grow. Watchers are on their feet with their phones out as the cars zoom past them, and the commentators can’t keep up with their words anymore.
“This year has been remarkable for the world of Formula 1, and even more for Red Bull who finished the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix in the lead!”
Seungcheol drives over the finish line and across the checkered flag, followed by Wonwoo, Mingyu, and Chan.
“Mercedes’ Jeon Wonwoo finishes P2 in the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix and the 2023 Drivers’ Championship with 247 points, just one point away from Kim Mingyu who finished third!”
“That is a splendid performance to mark his last race, and now a new question rises: Will he be back to regain his title as World Champion in the next season?”
“We’ll have to wait and see about that.”
Fireworks light up the sky and all drivers cross the finish line, officially putting the 2023 season to an end.
The top 3 finishers stand at their designated spots on the podium, waiting for their trophies to be handed to them.
Wonwoo steals quick glances at Mingyu on the podium, just wanting to be left alone with him already. Time seemed to move a lot slower now that they weren’t in their fast cars anymore.
They are signaled to quiet down and listen to the national anthem of South Korea to pay homage to Seungcheol’s win. When the anthem ended, screams started filling their ears again.
A VIP guest during tonight’s Grand Prix hands Mingyu his trophy first. Wonwoo could hear him mumble a quiet ‘Thank you’ as he took it from their hands.
Next they gave it to Wonwoo who also expressed his gratitude to the guest before raising his trophy in the air with a huge grin plastered on his face. He waves to Mercedes fans and the crew down below.
Seungcheol, with his urge to brag and overflowing confidence, takes his trophy with two hands that are too full of victory and doesn’t even shake hands with them.
They take a quick photo of the three and in a matter of seconds, their hands itched to pop off the cork from the champagne by their feet.
Seungcheol manages to get his hands on the champagne first and immediately sprays it on Mingyu before turning to Wonwoo to spray it in his face.
Wonwoo takes his revenge and gets off the podium the moment the cork of his champagne is off and walks right in front of Seungcheol, spraying the champagne close while making sure it trails down under his suit.
Mingyu uses this chance to hop off the podium as well to get near Wonwoo, and he laughs at the sight of the latter’s face dripping in the alcohol.
“Guess I could say you’re drowning in victory,” He jokes, making Wonwoo laugh.
In just a flash, Mingyu could feel his nape go warm. Wonwoo was pouring the champagne straight onto his head. “Looks like you’re drowning with me, then.”
“Hey, hey! Make sure to drink a bit before running out of it,” Seungcheol butts in, extending his arm to invite the two in a toast. “To more good times next season.”
Wonwoo and Mingyu say back in unison while clinking their bottles together, to more good times next season, even when they both knew that they didn’t have to wait until next year — they would be having a hell of a good time together tonight.