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Summary
The legacy of your grandfather comes with a heavy crown, one partially melted and reformed in flames that should have killed him. Akin to the fire that should have killed you but took your mother instead, leaving you with the same scars that Niki Lauda wouldn’t wish on another, least of all his own grandchild.
Yet here you stand, drawing the ire of McLaren’s golden boy, with a twisted crown of his own to wear as you throw everything he was used to into the flames. You force him to adapt overnight when you join the team suddenly after an unknown incident that sends you sprawling as you try to cope with the sudden change in team.
You terrify him. And he terrifies you. And somewhere, James Hunt is cackling that Niki Lauda’s granddaughter is frighteningly similar to him.
Cross posted on tumblr @pampushky!