Qualy had been a blast, with exitement further up the grid creating a HAM BOT VER but a mixture of players up and down the field. It was a satisfying one to watch, and while most of it had been a blur given the fact they were looking at data, numbers and the car's performance throughout, everyone was a motorsport fan at a pitwall. Hugo heard Kimberly come over, congratulating the both of them as he got off the pit wall and came over by Kasumi, nodding with glee- a genuine one, given Qualifying in Formula One itself was a dream come true, one of many on his list.
"Thanks Kimberly, we appreciate it. Gave us the best chance we could to show you what we're worth. Thanks." He said, a grin on his face as he looked at Kasumi, in a supportive, if not a competitive spirit.
"I think that's a chance for us to go toe to toe, right?" Hugo added, chuckling as he knew that while they were friends off track, and team-mates, they were still racing, and still going to go for the position when it came down to it.

"Absolutely." Kasumi replied, chuckling and shaking her head at the same time as she listened to Hugo's comment. Every minute that they spent on that race track together would be a chance to go toe-to-toe. Unless directed otherwise, Kasumi and Hugo were going to go at it every chance they could get. They were teammates, but they also had goals to set out. There was a reason why there was a driver's championship and a constructor's championship. Kasumi wanted the best chance for herself to show her skills and prove that she was meant to stay in Formula 1.

The prestige racing series frequently produced wash-outs. For every Lewis Hamilton and Michael Schumacher and Ayrton Senna, there were your Taki Inoues, Chanoch Nissany, or Al Peases. Kasumi didn't want to be remembered as a failure, especially not after being the first full-time driver in Formula 1. Kimberly chuckled, "Just don't cause any crashes out there." The team principal said, lest they have repeats of what happened in Baku in 2018 or Spain in 2016. Kasumi nodded.

"I'll see you guys at the technical meeting later." Kimberly said, closing her laptop and holding it against her chest, walking away from the drivers.

Sunday

The race grid was assembled, fans on from one of the techs blowing cold air into Hugo's cockpit, and the fans loud as ever in Melbourne. The theatrics of F1 were always exciting, always heart pumping and made it all even just that more exciting.
"Comms check, Hugo. Happy with our strategy?" The engineer's voice was soothing, and with the helmet comms, almost too loud without the car alive just yet.
"Yep, happy. Let's keep it that way, depending on what happens out there. Let's go." Hugo replied, taking a strong sip of water from the drink, the precious, precious drink. That wasn't pissing on his floor, or not working, no, it did it's job, because he didn't have a set of engineers for tools. Even if Valkyrie was a poor team, at least they didn't fuck up the drink.

And before anything else was said and done, the crew were packing up and away, and moving aside as the lights started, readying all for the formation lap. The car was running as the cars in front began to pull away, and in slot, so did Hugo. This was it. F1, and it was coming up. Through the corners he warmed the tyres, well and truly now only thinking about his own race. Kasumi was on the row behind, but no less of a threat, right there and ready to pounce on a bad start. He wasn't going to let that happen. But then again, nobody does and it still happens.

Hugo brought the car around the last corner, and with that, parked into his grid slot, the extra two cars on grid an unusual appearance after almost 6 years without. But here they were, Valkyrie Racing were here to bring up the rear and then some, and maybe even score some shockers. Paddle clutch held, the burgandy and green helmeted Portuguese saw the bank of red lights come on, and taking a deep exhale, counted it internally. One, two, three, four. Gone. And throttle was half in, clutch was released, and from twenty-two F1 cars the noise of mechanical insanity began.

Today was the day. Kasumi's first race as a Formula 1 driver was finally here. The atmosphere was nothing like she had ever experienced before. The crowd that was present for this race had nothing on anything she'd seen in other series as well. She knew that all eyes were on her and the 21 other drivers on the grid. "Comm check." Her engineer piped in, "Welcome to our first race in Formula 1. Take it easy on the start, and settle down into your rhythm. Keep it clean." Claire said on the radio, as Kasumi was glancing around her cockpit. If it wasn't for the fact that adrenaline was coursing through her veins and her heart pounding so loudly that she could practically hear it in her head, she would've fallen asleep. As tight as these cockpits appeared to be, the position they were in were comfortable enough to warrant some drivers falling asleep.

Soon enough, the entire grid packed away and off everyone went on the formation lap. Kasumi was directly behind Hugo, and stayed behind him as the cars paraded around Melbourne. Every once in a while, Kasumi weaved left and right to get some heat into the tires. The last thing she wanted to do was to start the race on cold tires. If she wanted an opportunity to score Valkyrie's first points in F1, then a good start was the first step toward doing so. Pacing behind Hugo, Kasumi's breathing was slowing as she got into the zone. Nothing else but the road ahead of her as she finally made her way around the last chicane.

Lining up in her spot, Kasumi held the clutch paddle and pressed on the throttle as she watched the lights. Watching the lights intently, she watched them stack -- and then fall as she released the clutch pedal and let the car launch forward. Gingerly applying the throttle, Kasumi went up the gears, every gear prompting more throttle input as the tires established traction. She found herself weaving to the right side of the track, close to the pit wall as she and presumably Hugo overtook a few cars just off the line. Right now was a drag race to the first corner, and Kasumi found herself jockeying for the corner with a car next to her as the braking point quickly came. Practically standing on the brakes, Kasumi beat the car next to her for the dominant position, and ended up in front through the initial chicane. "Great move, Kasumi. Keep it up! Pick your shots." Her engineer piped up, as she left the initial chicane and headed down the next straight.

Hugo kept his cool as he put floor to throttle, and did as Kasumi may have well thought. His starts were good, and while in qualifying his pace was above average when things got to it, it was in races he found it best to get elbows out. Melbourne's start straight passed faster than a glimpse, and taking the chance to pass the Alfa of Kimi right ahead of him, and Latifi too, the heavily braking Williams giving Hugo a perfect route through on the outside as they went three-wide through the messy straights. Hugo was totally in that moment, and no doubt, it was a bit of a signature of things to come. A lucky break, or a ? Kasumi had the room to follow, but right now, Hugo was focussed on holding position, and through the next few corners, he could keep his calm, the grip not exceedingly convincing but the powerplant behind him giving enough power to build on and keep going.

"Nicely done, that's P16, P16." Hugo gave no response, not excited, just focussed in. He was here to race, and not to concede. Turn 9 and 10 came fast and quick, the aero of an F1 car keeping it virtually glued, the G-forces swinging through his neck as he could see Kasumi being able to follow through the hole he'd made through the other backmarkers, though they were getting moment to moment changes in the delta. It mattered nought, because now he had to keep it on.

The end of lap one felt like an exhale, but F1 was non-stop. It was going to continue, and while Russell ahead was still in a Williams, he was going to leave Hugo for dust with the rest of the train that was ahead. Simply put, the Valkyrie wasn't going to close that gap, and for now, Hugo knew he just had to get his head down. Lap after lap, time after time.
"Okay, good work, Hugo. Remember, we're on a one stop strategy, no changes to that. How is the car, copy?"

"Car is good, let me get on with it." Hugo replied sternly but he didn't want his focus ruined. He was here to bed himself into the race, and that was his strategy.

And so it went. From something climactic and epic, now it felt like the first lap had gone, Hugo Olivera was here alright. Lap after lap passed, and on the now scrubby mediums he knew he had to do the other part of holding the gap. He could see the delta time of Raikkonen behind him, flickering and up and down with DRS, but with the ability to equalise that thanks to Russell's slipstream, he could bed himself in here. Hugo didn't think about his teammate, but deep down, hoped she'd be able to make advantage of the train he was going to soon be leading.

As the first laps came to a close, Kasumi had slotted herself in nicely in P18, right behind Raikkonen as he punched a hole for her. With every second that passed, Kasumi continued to get closer and closer to the Alfa Romeo. She was about 1.5 seconds back from the experienced Finnish driver, and with the activation of DRS, it was likely that Kasumi would be able to pass him within the next lap or so. Kasumi's prediction was correct, as the delta between her and Raikonnen continued to decrease, especially on the straights as they got into the next DRS zone. A combination of DRS and overtake mode propelled her forward, being close enough to inhale Kimi's exhaust as they went into the last chicane before the next lap.

As Kasumi powered out, the car got a little squirrely, but Kasumi remedied that immediately and straightened the car out as she and Kimi went down the straight. Activating DRS, the flap on the spoiler went down, allowing for the car to be able to capitalize and gain more ground on Kimi. Eventually, as the straight came to an end, Kasumi pulled out to the right and stomped hard on the brakes, overtaking Kimi and taking P17 behind Hugo as she made now focused on making up ground on him.

"How do the tires feel, Kasumi?" Her engineer asked on the radio. "They feel good." Kasumi said, her eyes glancing at the mediums attached to the car. "Should be able to stick to the plan." The plan for Kasumi was to stick to the mediums as long as she could, before switching over to the softs and making up as much ground as she can. It was a very bold plan, especially for rookie drivers like Kasumi, but if it worked out, they could very well have a very impressive showing for their first race in Formula 1.

The car pulsated lap after lap, turn after turn, holding a position against rivals that felt like it was nothing like F2, yet everything he had craved. Hugo was in his dreamland, and it was going to have to be something to hold. The race was almost boring, well, apart from going 200mph on the straights and barely even having the ability to blink through corners.

The stop that came was inevitable, dropping Hugo back further into the pack. A relatively smooth operation, but one Hugo knew they had they didn't have perfect- no team starting in F1 would. But still, medium stint over, it was onto the hards, and now, onto the long slog at getting back at it. He wondered where Kasumi was, and she appeared right in front of him, holding position, and tempting as it was, he wanted to go after her. Time would tell if he would, but for now, he held position, aware they had to work together to get forwards and get into this race.

After nursing the medium tires for as long as she could, Kasumi was feeling the degradation of the tires coming on a bit earlier than she was expecting. Kasumi knew how to manage her tires from her experience in motorsport, and it was obvious that the original plan wasn't going to work out after all. There was still many laps of the race to go, longer than the softs would've lasted without having to prompt a two-stopper. She looked down at her steering wheel and hit the radio button, "Let's go to plan B. I'm not confident that we can stretch the softs to the end of the race." Kasumi let go of the radio button, hearing her engineer chime back in on the radio. "Copy, Kasumi. Copy. Pit for hards." The driver hit the pit confirm button on her steering wheel as she came up on the last chicane.

Turning into the pit lane, Kasumi mashed the pit limiter button to put a cap on the car's maximum speed, rolling past the many stalls of the Formula 1 teams that lined the pit lane as she pulled into the stall for Valkyrie Racing, the pit crew members immediately raising the car and replacing the worn yellow walled tires with brand new white walled tires. As soon as the car dropped onto the ground, Kasumi let go of the clutch and launched the car forward, leaving a trail behind as she came across the exit.

Leaving the pit lane, Kasumi slotted herself in front of Hugo. He had previously pit, but his tires were warm and broken in whereas Kasumi's were fresh but cold. It was an interesting dilemma, but the both of them knew that mutual cooperation was going to be necessary to make sure that they didn't end up out of contention and potentially DNF. But, they were at least allowed to race each other. That was the understanding unless said otherwise, and Kasumi was going to race her race and hopefully finish Valkyrie's first race in F1 in a respectable position.

The car rattled through the corners, and the racing that followed, for the absolute rookie, was inevitably a bit of clear air. Occasional blue flag, with Hamilton, Verstappen and even Bottas passing by. Yet in their own race, they were holding their own. Valkyrie really was onto something here- and they knew this could change all of a sudden, a few retirements and they would be bumped. Kasumi was in front though, and that to Hugo was only a temptation- and with a slight turn up of engine mode, Hugo was keeping up, and through the DRS

The chequered flag was coming- and it all felt a little anti-climactic. Apart from their little race that was, and Hugo knew no matter what, he could not make contact with her. But she'd know the same too...and he was up on delta. It would be a matter of time before he was in a position to overtake, the green and white liveried F1 car roaring through the last corner and back onto the start/finish straight again.

---------







OST:
Heat Waves- Glass Animals

Post Meet, Two Days Later

Sitting on the beanbag in the AirBnB felt a little deflating to Max, the feeling of sitting around and doing nothing not really appealing to him much.

The rush of unpacking the R33, going straight to a meet and straight into a serious street race had given him a surge of energy, a rush that he couldn't compare to back home. But reality had hit home. You had to make your bank to keep afloat, and out here, he hoped he'd find some work in the scene. Magnus had talked about it, but he'd been far too busy to pick up his phone, probably dealing with a heap of other shit right now. It pissed Max off, he was hardly patient for it, but then again, that was life.

The problem with high heat races of course was that even without a plate, a bright white R33 was gonna show up on the streets like a magnet. It was far too hot, so for right now, he'd been chilling, getting his shit together, and figuring out other options. He was on a temporary visa after all, an ESTA, and the car was totally not legit if he was pulled over properly beyond his fake plates for it, a right hand drive import after all. A weapon, but taking it outside LA was gonna be a risk, though if all went well, he'd sort himself out something local.

Finding work wasn't legit either, but hell, there was always work moving stuff, being a getaway driver, doing the grime, and back home had problems. Shit he didn't want to think about, the world of drugs and county lines too messy to be involved in, and greedy fuckers getting a mark on his back. Something he didn't need to show. To be honest, it wasn't a problem now he was here. His YouTube of the race was popping, and while he hated exposing the scene he loved, it sure fucking got views. It got cred, and in time, it'd pay off. Work would come through, it just had to, right?

So there was one thing left that came to mind. Perhaps a random call as he scrolled through socials, feeling a bit more like he could muster up the courage to do it. Behind the wheel he might have been fearless, and in the streets too, but he was a bit introverted. At home with his wrenches and tools and kit. Maybe even with a piece, but shit, people were fucking complicated and couldn't be fixed with an 8mm spanner. Kait seemed cool, and right now, outside of Magnus and a couple of other guys he was waiting for some word on, was the only other person he knew in LA. Flicking his WhatsApp, he hit the record, not being able to type the words.

"Hey Kait, uhhh....I thought I'd drop you a line, see how you were doing. Look, I feel bad about the other night, not saying goodbye properly. Thought if you're up for it, fancy grabbing a coffee in Hollywood? I think this place I just pinged you seems decent...may keep off my car for now after you know what. Up to you totally, just trying to figure this town out....uhh yeah, cheers." Max tried to remain as smooth as possible, yet inside knew he wouldn't be. With a sigh, he leaned back in the beanbag, staring up at the ceiling fan on the mid-day lunch, exhaling a long hard breath.

As the checkered flag came down, Valkyrie Racing's first ever race had surpassed the expectations of many. All the pundits had anticipated for them to finish at the very bottom of the pecking order. Rightfully so, as they were Formula 1's newest and youngest team. But they didn't. They hadn't touched the points just yet, but they had finished a respectable 13th and 14th.

Parking the car after their cooldown lap, Kasumi climbed out of the car, taking her helmet, gloves, and balaclava off as she watched the rest of the grid mingle about as they watched the podium setters celebrate. It was Hamilton, Bottas, and Verstappen, as almost everyone and their mother had anticipated. Kasumi turned around and looked at her car, resting as it had just completed its first race in Formula 1.

There was more to come, and much more in store.

---

Kaitlyn was squatted in front of her car, examining the front splitter of her car that had taken some damage after the other day's ordeal. There was definitely some damage, but none severe enough to prompt a total replacement of the piece of aero. For now, Kaitlyn would just have to compensate for the loss of front downforce one way or another. She shook her head as she sat up, looking over her Mitsubishi as her phone vibrated in her pocket.

It was the guy from the other day, and it was definitely a welcome surprise. One that was needed after checking over her car for the past few days and realizing just how much of a toll racing of that caliber took on a vehicle. It wasn't as severe as, say, what a Formula 1 car went through, but it was definitely stressful on the car. Luckily, Kaitlyn determined that nothing was worthy of replacement just yet. So that was money that was going to rightfully remain in her pocket.

Apparently this guy wanted to get some coffee with her... Kaitlyn smiled and shook her head. Might as well humor him, right? Tapping on the box, Kaitlyn started to type away. "Sure, but since you're not gonna be in your car... do you need a ride?"

Max sat back, looking into the horizon, then back at the reply in front of him.

"That'd be good. Cheers!" Max typed back, putting in his address, sending it across with a satisfying ping of his phone. Shit, that had worked....well, it was someone to call a friend. Well, beyond the other one, as his phone buzzed...

Standing up, the phone rang, this time with the nametag coming up.

"Hey, Max, you alright?" The Faroese voice on the far side reminded him that yep, that one still was in the game- still relevant somewhat.

"Yeah, been worse." Max's response was blunt, but as British as ever...an understatement.

"Look, thank you for coming out a few nights back. Appreciate seeing you around here. From what I heard, you seemed to adapt well to the local conditions." Magnus's voice was reassuring to hear, but Max wasn't feeling that way, a little deflated from it all- it was a lot to take in, the heat, the environment, all of it.

"Kind of. Keeping it low-brow at the minute. Yous know how it goes." Max replied, sighing as he knew that well, there wasn't going to be much racing. For a little while, at least- he could run his gamble out but right now, shit had gone feral after that street race. Views were mad, and people were going off, but it was far more heat than he was used to, even back home.

"Look, if the car's hot, I might be able to fix you up with something local. And some more work. You know, I'm just a respectable businessman. But I might have something your flavour, if you know what I mean?" Magnus's suggestion piqued Max, as he sat back down again into the beanbag across the room, looking out the window, then back in. The Faroese voice was certainly warped by the West Coast, and that American twang was coming straight into his language.

"Oh, you mean something....right, I'm with you. I'm interested." Max realised the code right there. It wasn't a race. It was something else. Probably not a drugs run either...because that wouldn't be what was on the cards.
"We can talk cars later. You free tonight?"
"Yeah, I can do that."
"Alright, we'll sort you a ride, then. Take it steady, brother."
"You too." Max cut the phone, as he stared at the wall.

Shit was going to possibly get real tonight, but Kaitlyn would be good to meet, good to keep him grounded. Then whatever worked was planned out, well, he just hoped it wasn't anything too heavy.

Things never worked out quite that way.

(Really sorry this took ages!)