He’s not too proud to admit Rafael deserves a blowjob after this. He might even put some effort into it.
Julien pits, and the atmosphere in the garage is notably brighter. The mechanics almost look pleased when they push the car back and cover the tires.
As soon as the screen is down, Julien searches for his name. DUO is all the way at the top, right between the two Red Boars.
He had assumed Thomas had provisional pole, but his DUB marker is down in fifth.Fifth.
Julien beat Thomas. In the same car.
Whoa.
There are still about eight minutes left in the session, so Julien tries to tamp down the excitement bubbling up in his throat. He focuses on visualizing the entire lap again, exactly as he did it. He’s traversing turn six when someone taps on his helmet.
“The screens work better when you look at them.” Despite the P2 finish, Rafael still doesn’t look happy.
“I’m trying to remember myvery impressivelap.”
“You downshifted too early at three.”
“Iknow.” Yeah, he definitely did, but mistakes mean Julien can improve. An improvement on an already-good lap could mean pole position.
And to think his best result was fourteenth yesterday.
In the final scramble, Julien jumps the pack—lining up first. The track won’t be as rubbered in for him as it will be for the people at the back, but at least he won’t accidentally miss his chance to start a lap.
Clean air is a gift, and Julien basks in it as he repeats his notes for each corner.
Hold the downshift before three. Finn’s contract with Mercenary is up at the end of this year. So is Owain’s contract with McLean. Sure, they’re expected to sign again, but maybe after this weekend, Julien can join the conversation.
After all, who wouldn’t be interested in a driver that can secure pole on debut?
There’s more traffic when Julien starts his flying lap, but he can already tell he’s going faster than his previous, alreadyvery impressive, lap.
Upshift, hold—okay,nowdownshift. That was better. Hug the wall, slingshot through the next turn, cut the apex, and—fuck!
Julien swerves, barely avoiding the back wing of a McLean on an out lap. What the fuck was he doing on the race line?! Doesn’t he have mirrors? That stupid-ass peach car botched Julien’s perfect lap right before the finish!
He mashes the mic button. “He got out in front of me!”
“Don’t slow down! Start another flyer!”
Too late. Julien already lifted, so he coasts right through the start-finish line. He curses before activating the microphone again. “Do I have enough time for another push lap?”
“Negative,”is the solemn reply.“Your pace was very good, though. Purple sectors in one and two. They’re already investigating Beddoe for impeding.”
They can investigate and penalize Owain all they want, but one driver’s placement won’t make up for the fact that every other driver will improve this lap and knock Julien further and further down the order.
“Thomas is behind, can you give him a tow?”
Julien would love to pretend he didn’t hear the request, but he needs to stay employed. “Copy.”
He drags Thomas through the straight and falls off the race line like a good little teammate. Afterwards, Julien coasts through the rest of the lap, diving into the pits as soon as he can.
He’s the first of the Q3 qualifiers to parc ferme, so it’s easy to pop out of the car and hit the scales without talking to anybody. Instead of wading into the media pen and waiting for results, he heads back to the garage to dust himself off and temper his disappointment before facing the world.
As a cameraman follows him down the line of garages, Julien removes his helmet and balaclava, fixing his hair as he walks.
He’s obviously frustrated, but to show there are no hard feelings, Julien blows the camera a raspberry. It’s childish, but the noise is louder than he expects, and he can’t help but laugh at the absurdity of it all.
