FP1 AND FP2 WAS disappointing in alicia's opinion. sure, it was only practice and it didn't matter too much, but it didn't change the team principal's mind.

isabel's driving was too aggressive. aggressive was good, but not when it was to the point of endangerment.

it especially wasn't good when max was involved.

too many near misses, too many almost-accidents . . . the newer drivers were suffering. a lot of them had only heard about how brutal isabel and max were and seen it on tv, but this was entirely different since they were now on the track with them.

isabel took her frustration out in free practice when she shouldn't have. max had gotten too close when he shouldn't have and it almost ended in a collision that left harry forcing isabel back to the pitlane and out of her car.

but now it was saturday. the last free practice and qualifying. she was sitting in the kitchen with max, at opposite ends of the counter, in silence.

"what's up with you?" max finally asked, "you almost sent me into the wall yesterday."

"oops," isabel muttered dully. "my bad."

max squinted. "no, seriously, what is with you?" you were happy when i last saw you, right? max thought back to miami. she'd been happy in miami after winning that grand prix and he'd noticed it on daniel's instagram story when both mclaren drivers and isabel had gone to a club in monte carlo.

isabel dropped her spoon into her bowl. "nothing," she said shortly as she stood up and picked up her bowl. she dumped her bowl into the sink and then turned around, only to see max now standing near the door, his arms crossed. "not this bullshit again," she huffed. "move the fuck out of my way."

"i'm not moving until you tell me what the fuck your problem is," his eyes were turning stony but the cyclones hadn't appeared yet. they were simmering far out at sea though, building and building as they moved closer to the land and were ready to create mass destruction.

"why do you suddenly care?" isabel asked as she walked towards him, arms crossed over her chest much like his were.

"i don't," max scoffed, "but i value my fucking career. why don't you? huh?"

her stare turned into a glare but otherwise her expression was blank. a perfect blank slate. the perfect fresh canvas that hadn't been touched by an artist yet. she was completely unreadable and max didn't like it one bit. "excuse me?"

"i think you heard me," max said. "why . . . don't . . . you?" he said slowly like you would to a child.

"because i'm sick to death of this shit!" she snapped without meaning to. the anger from free practice yesterday was not helping at all to cool her down. "i'm sick of tori telling me what i have to fucking do when, no matter what, my career is fucking over."

max actually faltered. for a moment, it was silent. isabel was breathing heavily as she fought with herself to calm the volcano that was struggling to stop the magma from becoming lava.

"i get it, you only care because you have a reputation and a seat to keep," isabel continued. "you are on your way to another world championship title, i get it. i'm happy to fake it to tori and will if it makes you feel better. i won't fuck this over for you because then i'd be fucking awful, wouldn't i?"

max ignored what she just said. "what do you mean, your career is over?" was this what daniel was saying?

she had no clue as to why she was suddenly spilling everything to max. these were things that she hadn't even told lando or carlos or charles. but the magma was transforming into lava as it bubbled over the edge and spilled down the sides. "lamborghini haven't talked to me about renegotiating like they said they would. my contract ends next year and they're willing to fire me within the month. other teams know this but haven't reached out at all. i'd be lucky to drive a fucking haas at this point but we both know that guenther doesn't want me."

"no, no," max shook his head, confusion replacing the slowly growing cyclones and reducing the storm to nothing but a rough sea. "that doesn't make sense. you've won so many—"

"it doesn't matter!" the laugh that escaped her was bitter-tasting. it was eating sour grapes on an already bitter, winter day. "a girl in f1 was already too controversial and the reason lamborghini barely took me in the first place. i'm bad media, too. that leaves me nowhere. which part isn't making any fucking sense to you?"

max couldn't even argue that he, too, was bad media. he was, it was well-known, but he was a world champion that was getting paid more than every driver and he wasn't female. women in motorsport were already recieved terribly by the media, and no matter how controversial max could be at times, he would never be on that same level. always a rung below on that ladder.

"i will try pretend for your sake," her voice lowered in volume. "but do not fuck me over on the track."

max moved away from the doorway with what you could hardly call a nod, "okay."

"okay."

x

FP3 WAS SLIGHTLY BETTER. isabel's pace was slower, but it was less erratic. it was more controlled, but there was one problem . . .

"harry?" isabel said, her tone unsure. "drs isn't working."

harry responded barely a second later, "there isn't a problem that we can see," he said. "can you try again in zone three?"

"yeah," isabel agreed, "but it did not work the first two times . . ."

"noted."

soon enough, isabel had approached zone three and tried to activate again. "still nothing. the car was working fine yesterday, what is going on?"

"not sure," harry said. "come back into the pits. sorry, belle."

a car fault sucked. it sucked even more when remembering that noah's car was faulty last race weekend and they couldn't work out why. and now drs issues? lamborghini couldn't afford to experience this right now. not while isabel, despite being so early into the season still, had a significant amount of points that left her in the running for the world championship title.

the second isabel was out of the car, harry and zavier, the head mechanic, made their way towards her. "can you explain the problem in more detail, if possible?" zavier asked, the remnants of an american accent peeking through his words. for an italian team, majority of the employees were american and had been ever since the creation of the team, surprisingly.

"the button lights up and everything," she explained as she pulled off her balaclava and tucked it into her helmet. "but it doesn't activate when i press it. it was working fine yesterday."

zavier nodded slowly, his gaze flickering over to the car. "we'll do our best, you know that," he pat the girl's shoulder, "we'll keep you updated."

"thank you," she told him before he went off to speak with his team of mechanics. she then turned to harry, "it was not showing up on your screens?" she asked.

"not a thing," harry confirmed, his expression showing how confused he really was. "we'll look into it more. at the least, we're hoping that it'll work at some point, even if it's not every single time you activate it. if it's completely dead, then . . ."

"i can hold pace," isabel assured him, "i know i can. but if everyone else has drs and i don't. . . my defending is good, but not that good." if red bull, ferrari or mercedes were to activate drs from behind her, she'd have to put everything into defending drivers that had years more experience than she did.

"i'll sort it out," harry promised her. "go do what you have to, i'll call you."

"grazie," isabel accepted the quick goodbye hug with her race engineer before heading back to her driver room to freshen up a little.

x

ISABEL KNEW SHE HAD to apologise to tori sooner or later. however, right now, it was looking like later was the correct option.

she just wanted to get through the weekend first and not have to worry about the next few weeks until it hit monday morning. on top of the fact that she was constantly thinking about getting fired, she now had a fucked up car to deal with. well, it was only drs so it was still driveable, but that didn't mean it was reliable.

but right now was qualifying. isabel didn't have time to dwell on anything else except getting a good time and pushing through to q3.

"when you're ready," harry said through the radio as isabel sat in the garage with the tire-warmers being held against the wheels. "good luck."

"thank you," isabel said back before switching off the radio and giving zavier the thumbs up. at her signal, the tire-warmers were taken off and isabel was given the all-clear to leave the garage and eventually merge with the circuit.

the annoying part? she had no clue if the drs would even activate. the circuit had two activation zones on the most important sections. the first straight between turn fourteen and turn one was where drs would be absolutely necessary if she wanted to stop herself from being attacked. the straight between turn nine and ten was also an important drs zone because it helped gain the advantage into turn ten. it was one of the more strangely shaped tracks, so the straights were more important than usual in holding the advantage into the turns.

isabel went for a hot lap after she completed a warm-up lap to ready her tires. the track didn't look too chaotic in terms of other drivers but that could all change if there were cars on cool-down laps in the tighter turns. it would create a loss of time that couldn't be afforded in terms of positioning.

isabel and noah both made it smoothly into q3. noah was sitting p9 and isabel p6. "those in q3 in order are leclerc, verstappen, sainz, russell, perez, you, hamilton, bottas, noah, ricciardo. try move into the top 5 if you can."

"trying," isabel nodded to herself as she listened to harry. "drs still isn't working."

"we can try and fix it after quali but it means you might have to start from the pitlane tomorrow," harry said. "we believe you can do fine without it, but it's really up to you. i recommend going with it. it's all hit or miss."

"copy," isabel sighed. she had been told that there may be points during the race that it'll work but otherwise they couldn't work out a fix. "i'll manage."

by the end of qualifying, the starting grid tomorrow would be as followed: charles, max, carlos, george, isabel, checo, lewis, valtteri, noah and then daniel.

"well done, belle," she could hear the smile in harry's voice. "finish your lap and bring it back in. 'm proud of you."

"will do," isabel made her way toward the pitlane. "thank you!"

she was happy with the result to an extent. obviously she knew she could do better, but p5 wasn't a terrible start. if she pushed hard for the first two laps tomorrow to secure a higher position before drs was enabled, she'd have a better chance at getting another podium.

x

THE STACK OF FIVE cards were fanned out in her hand as she laid on the floor. "do you have a five?"

max shook his head. "go fish."

isabel picked up a card from the stack on the floor and added it to her fan. in front of her laid three pairs of cards whilst max already had six.

"do you have a . . ." max thought, looking through his cards, "a king?"

"no," isabel stared at her own cards. "this game is stupid."

"you're supposed to say go fish when you don't have the card," max corrected her as he picked up. daniel had taught him how to play go fish back when they were both in red bull and he'd instantly liked it. it was simple and could be a little boring, sure, but max hadn't been taught any card games that weren't blackjack, so . . .

"there are no fish," isabel deadpanned. "why is it called go fish if there are no fish?"

"it's a figure of speech," max surprisingly found himself explaining, the game on a momentary pause. a deck of cards had been in the bag from tori and it also felt like a good way to unwind to prepare for tomorrow's race. "it means 'keep looking', like there are other fish but that one is unavailable at that time."

"it is stupid," she shook her head. "when is it over?"

"when all the pairs are matched up," he gestured to the stack of cards between them, there still being heaps of the stack to go through. "we have to play at least one game. for tori's sake."

isabel sighed loudly as she looked back at her cards. "fine," she muttered. "do you have an ace?"

max didn't answer and instead flicked the card over to her. she placed it down in front of her and placed her ace over the top. she now had four pairs.

the game went on for far too long. max won because he had three more pairs than she did, and isabel wouldn't openly admit that it had been a little enjoyable. even if she had lost.

"i hate that game," isabel mumbled as she picked up the cards and sorted them neatly back into a stack. "never again."

he shrugged, "okay." and that was that.

and then isabel remembered why they were playing go fish in the first place. "i'll be back," she muttered before leaving the cards on the floor and getting up, rushing out of the hotel room straight away without even putting on shoes.

she ran until she made it to the other end of the very long hallway and knocked on the door a few too many times.

the door opened a minute later to tori in her pyjamas.

isabel spoke before tori could even acknowledge her, "i'm sorry," she said sincerely. "i am really sorry, i should not have gone off at you because you were only doing your job and i'm really sorry." i'm sorry for going off at you but i am not sorry for what i said because you were being unfair.

tori shook her head, "i appreciate it, really, thank you," she accepted the apology, "but you're right. i shouldn't have brought it up during the weekend. i'm sorry for that, too."

"but still, i was too harsh," isabel's tone was still apologetic. "can we come to an agreement? no max pr talk on race weekends unless necessary or i start talking about him first. please?"

"of course," tori agreed straight away, "i'm just worried about you," tori held the door open wider and stepped to the side, silently telling isabel to come inside the room.

"i'm okay," isabel waved off as she stepped inside, tori shutting the door behind her. the two made their way into the dining area, sitting down comfortably at the cushioned chairs.

tori knew what isabel said was false. she'd been in contact with her coach and found out that she was eating a lot less as the stress of the next month got to her. she knew that isabel was exercising more too, something that was hard without a decent amount of food, as a way to shake off the stress and anxiety through sweat. "look, i know it sucks, belle, but this is the best thing for you right now. after azerbaijan, if everything goes to plan, you'll be set. i need you to know that after next year, even if lamborghini don't re-sign you, someone else will want you. and let us hope it's not mclaren," she mumbled the last part.

it forced a laugh out of isabel. hearing the reassurance from tori meant much more than anything anyone else had told her about it. "if i move, you know that you're coming with me."

tori raised an eyebrow. "if you didn't take me, i'd be concerned," she laughed softly. "of course i'm comin' with you. god, can you imagine anyone else trying to deal with you?" she teased but isabel knew her words were truthful. there had been one pr manager before tori but he hadn't even lasted a few weeks before telling isabel that she was 'too much hard work' and quitting.

"no, but really," tori continued honestly, "lamborghini wouldn't be the same without you. noah's a great driver and all, but he's not on your level. they'd be stupid not to re-sign you for at least a couple more years."

branching out to different teams would be great in isabel's opinion, but it was hard when other teams were already so solidified with their drivers. there was no way mercedes were going to lose george russell since his performance had grown heaps since 2019, red bull would definitely not lose checo or max, ferrari weren't going to break up charles and carlos anytime soon, and same with mclaren. alpine, alphatauri, williams, alfa romeo and haas probably weren't going to go for isabel because they'd originally been against signing her in the first place. aston martin had a four-time world champion that they weren't going to give up anytime soon and lance had a bright future there too.

"it is okay, really," isabel didn't believe her own words but chose to at least make sure tori believed it. "my main focus is what i can do right now for the team. maybe i should suck up to alicia."

"or," tori offered, "maybe you should play nice with your roommate."

"we played go fish," she deadpanned, "that is nice enough." stupid fucking game, she thought.

x

RACE DAY. ISABEL WAS lined up on the grid behind carlos as she started from p5. checo was beside her and lewis was behind her. on top of that, george was in front of her.

she had a few minutes to think as the rest of the drivers finished their formation lap and began to enter the grid. she was surrounded by strong drivers with strong teammates. to be able to make a good start and not end up in the midst of the midfield, she needed to fight checo early on to hold her position before lewis could attack her. hopefully if that worked, lewis would be forced into attacking checo instead of her.

she also had to hope that george didn't cause a collision since he was in front of her. she loved george, but sometimes his turn one starts were a bit . . . messy.

the plus side of starting p5? noah was lined up behind lewis. noah may not be on the same experience level, but if he could stage an attack early if he held his position and daniel or valtteri didn't take it, it would benefit isabel's positioning and help her push up into where charles, max and carlos were.

"we've just let noah know," harry said. "noah's gonna try help you hold your position until drs is allowed. after that, depending, it's all you."

"copy," isabel said, "thank him for me."

"will do," harry affirmed. "but if your drs fucks itself over when you need it, you're gonna have to rely on defense. this might have to just be a defensive race, kid."

it sucked to hear, but what else could you do when your car is fucked?

the red lights were beginning to flicker to life. as soon as they were all illuminated and extinguished, the collective roar of twenty-two engines sliced the air and silenced the crowds.

"what will happen over the course of the next sixty-six laps? and it's the spanish grand prix in 2022, it's lights out and away we go!"

lap one. everyone merged together instantly. charles led the grid into the first turn with max directly behind him, trying to take the position. isabel's main problem was checo right now. off the start, he was attacking straight away, desperate to move up from p6 to join his teammate. they had to move around carlos, who had been dropped from p3 by george, to continue their battle for who was going to come out of turn one ahead.

checo just managed to squeeze through the gap to take the turn on the inside, pushing him into p4 whilst isabel held p5. it wasn't the start she wanted but she was still ahead of carlos and he looked like he had no plans of attacking as of currently.

upon the turn four entry, a cloud of dust caught isabel's attention as she glanced back in her mirrors. a haas spun into the gravel and kicked up dust in it's wake. sector one and two were immediately yellow flagged.

"that was magnussen," harry spoke through the radio, "hamilton might have damage."

with that information in mind, isabel focused on checo instead. noah was making his way up the track with lewis losing a few positions, letting him sit p7.

lap two. isabel was grateful to move into p4. with drs not in use until next lap, sitting a higher position to start with was necessary to bring out the defensive skills needed. her defending was good but it wasn't as good as her attacking, which was a slight problem when she possibly had no drs still.

lap seven. carlos dropped from p5 to p14 in a matter of seconds as he spun out on turn four. the sector was yellow flagged for just a moment before it went back to green. "he's fine," isabel muttered to herself as she tried to hold p4. over the course of the past few laps she had gone from p4 to p5 and then back to p4 over and over again as she fought against those who had access to drs. the two activation zones were on the long straights which was painful, but she'd managed to defend well so far. probably because the best attackers were up in front of her instead of behind her.

lap nine. isabel was convinced that turn four was cursed. max dropped from p2 to p5 in the same spot that carlos did in lap seven, allowing isabel to pass him and move up into p3. charles and george were in front of her and checo was sitting just behind her.

"try drs after turn 9," said harry. "we'll let you know if the flap opens."

"copy."

checo was fighting her for p3 but she had her sights set more on george as they made it through the next few turns. when she eventually got to the activation zone and george was right in front of her, she hit the drs button, but nothing changed. the car felt the same, and checo overtook her.

fuck, she thought bitterly as she dropped to p4. she could still hold off max but that could all go out the window when they got to the straight after turn fourteen.

"sorry, belle, nothing."

"fuck, alright," isabel tried to take a deep breath whilst she held her pace. "i'll keep trying."

lap nineteen. turn four was definitely cursed. she was the third driver so far to spin on the corner with no contact from anyone else. she dropped from p5 immediately and the frustration was beginning to build.

"check the tires," she spoke through the radio as she tried to get out of the gravel as quickly as possible. cars were flying by faster and faster, and that included noah.

"tires are fine," harry responded. "box in a few laps. i'll let you know."

isabel rolled back onto the track and slipped back into the race before any other cars could fly past. "where am i sitting?"

"p17," isabel couldn't remember the last time she had fallen back that far on the track. "stroll, gasly and vettel are ahead. go for the overtake on stroll whenever you can."

"where's noah sitting?"

"p6."

lap twenty-five. isabel hadn't moved up too many spots. she was stuck in p15 trying to stop sebastian's attacks while also trying to attack lance. lewis was behind sebastian but he wasn't attacking yet surprisingly. maybe still a car fault from the first lap?

lap twenty-seven. sitting in p15 still with lance and pierre in front of her, isabel had been told that charles was forced to retire because he lost power. he was the race leader and held the fastest lap time, but that went out the window and now it was a battle between george and max for it.

and then lance made contact with pierre that sent him spinning. pierre was able to correct his car before he spun and continued on and isabel's quick reflexes saved her from ploughing into lance's car. she moved up into p14 at the least. lance was able to correct himself before nicholas latifi could overtake him.

lap thirty-nine. isabel had caught up and was now positioned within the points in p9. noah was ahead in p7.

the radio crackled, and this time it wasn't harry. "if you catch noah, do not overtake. i repeat, do not overtake."

"what?" isabel's eyebrows furrowed as she responded immediately to alicia's orders.

"do not overtake, isabel." and there was nothing else.

"why the fuck not?" she couldn't stop the harshness from spilling into her tone. "if i'm faster, i overtake."

"do not overtake."

isabel disconnected to stop herself from saying something to her team principal that she would later regret. was it because her drs wasn't reliable? in almost forty laps so far, drs had only worked three times, but when it did, she made it count. how else would she have made up that many positions?

what was going to happen when she was behind noah and had the speed to overtake? she'd have to stop, which was fucking stupid considering isabel had the experience, skill and talent to overtake some of the older drivers and noah hadn't quite reached that amount of experience to do so yet. this was his second year and isabel's fourth — and she knew that she could overtake the more experienced drivers and bring home more points for the team. why couldn't alicia see that? alicia was the one who wanted more points in the first place, and now this?

"fucking hell." isabel overtook fernando on the inside of turn five but what was the point? now that she was sitting behind noah, she couldn't fucking go anywhere anyway. now she'd have to hold off a two-time world champion until he either overtook her or crashed into something.

"alicia, please," isabel hit the radio button. she hated how vulnerable her voice suddenly sounded to millions of people but she knew she could take this. she knew she wouldn't land on the podium, but she could at least bring home more points. "let me overtake. i don't need drs to perform well." she recieved no reply. ". . . harry?"

"i'm sorry, kid," harry even sounded dejected. "do the best you can."

isabel was already on thin ice with lamborghini with the threat that hung over her head like a sword that had everything to do with max verstappen. on top of that, they hadn't renegotiated her contract. everything was suddenly tilting and sliding and so far out of reach as she defended fernando like her life depended on it.

and in a way, it did.

if isabel went against alicia, consequences would be severe and the ice would get thinner and thinner until she was drowning in the icy waters. all she could do was defend for noah as he tried to climb his way up the track against other drivers.

lap sixty-six. final lap. isabel was on autopilot for the rest of the race but even then she didn't remember crossing the line or hearing the radio crackle in her ears or going for an in lap or pulling into the pitlane.

isabel didn't even go to into her garage. she left her car out the front and disappeared into the ferrari one before anyone could even say anything.

charles was already there waiting for her with open arms as soon as the door to his driver room opened. "mi dispiace," he mumbled as she collapsed into his arms, drained and tired with the race's events. "i'm sorry, belle."

"it's not fair," isabel had always been one more in tune with her emotions and it was normally why it was so easy for her to get angry with a snap of the fingers. but feeling sad? that was a strange one. she experienced it a lot, but it was hard to show. especially when your eyes start to burn and no fucking tears fall. "i could have— she wanted me to get more points but— but why wouldn't she let me?"

"breathe with me first," charles said slowly as he took slower breaths for her to hopefully start to take. "let's calm down, hm?"

isabel nodded stiffly. she could feel charles' chest rise and fall against her own so she tried to mirror him, only melting into his embrace more as the reality began to form much clearer.

"where did i finish?"

"p10," charles said quietly. "noah finished p6."

god, isabel thought, i don't even remember losing positions. as if he could read his sister's mind, charles spoke again, "you were behind him up until the end. fernando got through your defense eventually and then there was almost a collision with a few up ahead so . . . noah managed to get through but you couldn't get back past alonso."

"ah," isabel nodded slowly, "okay."

just as she was about to pull away from charles, the door opened once more, and seconds later, another pair of arms wrapped around her her upper-back, this time from behind. carlos.

wrapped in the arms of her brother and best friend, she felt secure, like she wasn't going to break in half and sink into the icy waters like the titanic did.

"nice spin on the gravel," and just like that, a giggle slipped from isabel. she just managed to look back a little over her shoulder and glanced at carlos.

"you did the same thing," she mentioned, "at least mine wasn't oversteer."

"no, belle," charles pulled back from his sister and carlos did the same but he remained with his arm rested on her shoulder. "yours was stupidity."

" . . . maybe," isabel kind-of agreed as she rolled her eyes. her mood had gone from absolute shit to lifted in the few minutes that she had been around the ferrari boys, and it was nice to revel in for now before she had to go back to her garage. "still, at least i know how to steer properly."

"i don't think you know how to do that either," carlos then looked at charles. "remember when we went karting?"

"that was three fucking years ago," she nudged him in the ribs so that he would drop his arm from her shoulder. "stop being a dick," but the smile on her face contradicted what she was saying.

"whatever, whatever," charles waved off. "can we go sneak into the paddock? i'm hungry."

"let me message pierre," isabel reached for charles' phone on the couch. "he's probably already in the paddock."

"what? is our company not good enough?" carlos teased.

isabel's expression was deadpan all of a sudden. "correct, your company is not good enough," but a smile broke through as soon as charles laughed.

x

MAX WAS ECSTATIC. A win? it meant no phone calls, no stress, time for the scars to heal a little more, and it meant he could go celebrate.

and then his eyes caught the race results on a large screen after he finished talking to sky sports.

his eyes followed the leaderboard until—

p10.

it looked so unnatural. isabel leclerc sitting in p10 was rarely ever heard of. in fact, he couldn't even recall the last time he had seen her drop that far . . . was it 2020? well, it wasn't 2019 because that was her rookie year . . . no, he couldn't recall.

he'd known about the drs issues she was having from the mass of media duties after qualifying, but there was no way a p10 was possible when you were isabel leclerc and you were only missing drs. no, there was clearly something else.

he very faintly remembered a karting competition from when they were kids where she had come third with half her kart trashed; there was no way she only just made the top ten because of a car issue.

the unanswered question of how didn't once slip his mind as he went through a multitude of media duties, and not once was it brought up. he was almost tempted to ask a journalist in passing.

but that was the thing. max was hardly ever asked about isabel so therefore whatever happened wasn't brought up. he was noticing, too, that she was always asked about him but not vice versa . . . hm.

x

with this fic i like having at least two draft chapters done at a time for some reason and i hate that i keep publishing chapters so often but i cant help it bc like ??? idk i just really love all the feedback so here you go :)

any thoughts ? how we feelin ? :)