“It cost a lot,” I said quietly.
“I know. That’s how you know it was the right call.” She paused. “How is he handling it?”
“He says he’s not angry. But he also said Nat’s right, which is worse.”
“Mm.” Thea considered this. “Wally, you can’t protect him from his own insecurities. That’s not your job as a journalist or as his friend. Your job is to report the truth and let him decide what to do with it.”
Her voice softened slightly. “But my guess? He’ll use this. Turn it into fuel. Prove Nat wrong on track. And in the future, he’ll remember that you gave him honest coverage when you could have given him propaganda.”
After hanging up, I opened my messages.
WALDO:I’m sorry the coverage created a storm. I tried to keep it fair.
Three dots appeared. Disappeared. Appeared again.
JONATHAN:I know you did. It’s not your fault people only read headlines. I just need to prove Nat wrong on track.
WALDO:You already have.
JONATHAN:Then I’ll do it again. Differently this time. See you in Hungary?
WALDO:Hungary.
I stared at that exchange, trying to convince myself everything was fine.
But somewhere between a Ferrari driver diagnosing Jonathan’s deepest fear and me publishing those words for the world to dissect, something had shifted.
I’d chosen journalism over protecting someone I loved.
It was the right choice.
It just didn’t feel like winning.
Friday Morning - The American Motorsports Comparison
The final piece required no interviews, just analysis drawing on my Pocono IndyCar experience and time covering Formula 1. The contrast was stark: American oval racing prioritized accessibility and blue-collar authenticity, while F1 emphasized technical sophistication and international glamour.
IndyCar tickets cost $50 for decent seats; F1 paddock passes cost $500 and sell out years in advance. American racing celebrates beer and barbecue; Formula 1 offers champagne and canapés. The fundamental question isn’t which approach is better, but whether these two motorsport cultures can learn from each other as F1 expands its American footprint.
I submitted the piece that afternoon. All my assignments completed on schedule and within word count. Whether they metApex’s editorial standards would determine my future.
Thea reviewed my work late Friday afternoon, spreading printed drafts across her desk while I waited in the chair across from her. The Silverstone piece had run long but captured environmental insights other journalists missed. The interview with Lando was fun, but with a serious environmental undertone. She was delighted about the coverage the piece about Nat had generated. And she liked the US piece, but thought it needed more depth before it could be published.
“You’re planning to head back to the States, aren’t you?”
I nodded. “Thought I would check back in on a few things.”
“Good. You could do some more with your US piece while you’re there.” She leaned back in her chair. “Which brings us to your future. We want to offer you senior correspondent, but not just for Formula 1.”
She pulled out a folder containing what appeared to be a detailed job description. “Based in London during European season, but you’d report internationally. Asian leg, IndyCar, IMSA, selected NASCAR events. The idea is to build comprehensive motorsports journalism that covers racing globally, not just F1.”
I scanned the proposal, noting salary figures that dwarfed anything I’d made in Philadelphia, travel budgets that would allow proper coverage of multiple racing series, editorial support that meant working with photographers and fact-checkers rather than handling everything alone, or scrambling to source images at the last minute.
“Timeline?”
“Decision by the end of Spa and the start of the summer break. The 2026 planning cycle starts in September, and this kind of expansion requires lead time.” Thea leaned back in her chair. “But I want you to think about it properly. Take two weeks back in Philadelphia. Handle whatever personal business needs handling. Cover something local for us, maybe the IndyCar race at Pocono, so you understand what American motorsports coverage would involve.”
“And if I say yes?”
