If Julien has to eat fried food to make Rafael feel more secure, then that’s a sacrifice he’s willing to make.
“How does it feel to finally be back in the saddle?”
“Good.” Rafael doesn’t leave much room for a response, but Julien pushes anyway.
“When I run Monaco, what I like to do?—”
“You’renotrunning Monaco.”
Julien pauses. He didn’t say he was, right? “Yeah, I know.”
“Good.” When Rafael returns to picking at his lifeless food, his shoulders are pulled up again. He wouldn’t be so tense if he had a plan going into the second free practice.
“What really works for me?—”
“I don’t care what works for you.”
Julien drops his pastry as he recoils. “I’msorry, I thought an outsider’s perspective could help—like how you gave me advice when I had a bad run.”
Rafael huffs a sarcastic laugh. “I don’t need your advice.”
“Why wouldn’t you want feedback from the last person who drove your car?”
“It’smy car,” Rafael echoes back. “I don’t need a reserve driver teaching me how to drive it!”
There it is again—reserve driver.
Everyone loves Julien when he’s driving, but as soon as he’s out of the car, he’s no one again. Thousands of hours on the sim amount to nothing. His tests, his builds, his race line—all of it means nothing now that he’s back on the sidelines.
The specific set-up for this weekend—the one Thomas isleadingthe rest of the grid with—wouldn’t exist without the hours of testing Julien has put in at the factory all week.
But his opinion doesn’t matter. He’s only thereservedriver. “I didn’t realize you thought so little of me.”
Rafael answers with an exaggerated groan. “Don’t be fucking dramatic. This is my job. I can figure it out without being guided through it.”
Guided. Like Julien needed his hand held every time he crossed the finish line. “But I couldn’t?”
“It’s not some big offense to say there’s a reason I’m a full-time driver and you’re not. Only a handful of people have what it takes—that’s just how it is.”
“I see.”
Julien was the Formation 2 champion. Most people would assume he has what it takes to be a full-time Formation 1 driver.
Rafael wasn’t a champion. Ever. He finished third in the Form 2 Championship the year Wilhelms picked him up. His seat was one of three open spots on the grid that year, and he had enough financial backing for the team to take a chance.
Some might call that luck, others would label him a paid driver, but Rafael confidently says it’s “just how it is.”
“Don’t be that way,” the full-time driver says.
“I’m not any way,” the plebeian replies.
Julien packs his dishes back up onto his tray. Suddenly, he isn’t hungry anymore.
Rafael’s mechanics cautiously approach the table and claim the empty seats as Julien stands.
Thank God Rafael finally has someone of his caliber to eat with. Wouldn’t want him to ruin his shitty unseasoned driver’s meal by feasting amongst the dregs of society.
Free Practice 2 is the exact same circus as the first. The cameras cut to Julien as Rafael falls further and further down the timing tower.
