“Cry a river,” I quip.
A few chuckles sound in the room. I think I might be starting to get the hang of this media bullshit.
“What’s your ideal team?” A man holding a notepad stands up, staring me straight in the eye. “If not at Gaston, where would you want to be?”
I take a beat to think it over. “Honestly, the team doesn’t matter so much as the people on it—they’re whomakea team. So, for me, I would want a chief mechanic as brilliant as Noah Kline, who rebuilt my car with very little time and a whole lot of pressure.” I’ve had my differences with Noah, and while I spent a long time blaming him for the sorry state of my car… he’s always done the best he can with the resources he had.
I spoke with him a few days ago about the upgrades to my car; that’s when I realized that I didn’t take enough time to acknowledge the excellence thatdoesexist on this team. This is as good a time as any to change it. Noah isn’t theonlytalented and competent member on this team. There aremanyof them… and I haven’t given anyone the credit they’re due.
“I’d also want Thomas Sato—a brilliant controls and systems engineer,” I go on. “Naturally, I couldn’t go anywhere without a trackside Aerodynamicist like YasminAbadi.” I go down the list of people whose names I know, who’s work I respect, but who I seldom actually get around to acknowledging, because I’ve always been too goddamn caught up in myself and my difficulty.
They say it takes a village. I have a village—I’ve always had one. It was just invisible behind the shroud of anger that always swirled around me like a tempest. Now, that anger isn’tgone, and my attitude will never fully recede… but the mist has parted just enough for me to realize how goddamn self-involved I’ve been.
“Oh, and one more person,” I say, looking directly into the camera. “Her most of all, really. An engineering intern who swept into Gaston, took the team by storm, and is the reason I pulled my head out of my ass. Victoria Linden. For the last few races, she’s implemented a predictive algorithm based on formulationsfartoo advanced for a lowly driver like myself to understand.” A fond smile pulls on my lips. “She’s going to change this sport—maybe the world. She’s already started. I will not,cannot go anywhere without her.” I shake my head with a breath of laughter. Now that I’ve started talking about Victoria, I can’t fucking seem tostop. I can’tnottell the world how amazing she is, even if she’ll never be mine.
“I’ve been in F1 for the better part of a decade, and I have never met someone as smart, capable, and hardworking as her. She is the best in the business—I’ll be amazed if she doesn’t have offers coming from every single team at the end of the season.” It all boils down to one thing, really: “Where she goes, I go. And I’m taking my pit team with me."
The reporter is open-mouthed at this point, but he quickly recovers, sealing his lips and clearing his throat. “I can’t help but notice you haven't mentioned anything about Elio.”
I take a nice, long look at Elio, letting him stew in silence for a bit. I’m sure he’s assuming that I’m about to embarrass him or throw him under the bus, but… “I didn’t think I’d need to clarify that.” I don a charming smile. “After all, we need someone to get second place so we can secure a Constructor’s Title for Gaston.” I clear my throat. “Or whichever team will have us.”
Elio stares at me like I’ve just sprouted two more heads, turned into a hydra, and am about to eat him. I hope the reporters get pictures of his face right now, mouth slack, eyes bulging, and make it his new unofficial press headshot.
I might be cutting back on the asshole side of myself, but I still reserve the right to occasionally be a dick.
“Asher.” A new reporter stands up, and it’s… oh, shit. It’s the one from the first race of the season, who grilled and antagonized me.Of course he’d be here. “You’ve been one of the most volatile drivers in the pressandon the track. You have a reputation as someone who’s rude, ungrateful, and in recent seasons, doesn’t eventry.” He pauses, letting that sink in—waiting for a reaction.
“Okay,” I drawl. It’s tempting to comment on his receding hairline or his juvenile desire to stir shit, but I hold myself in check.
“Why should we—why shouldanyonebelieve you’re changing now?” he challenges. “It’s clear you have anagenda. That you’re trying to get something out of acting so…decent, when the world knows that decency is not in your vocabulary. So. What’s your angle?”
I take one deep breath, cramming down the urge to tell him to go fuck himself. Then two. “To be perfectly honest with you… every name I’ve mentioned so far today, I’ve disappointed. I’ve failed, and done somiserably. Not because I’m deliberately cruel or antagonistic,”questionable,“but because I had my own demons and insecurities, and they made their way onto the track.” I give a sardonic chuckle. “As everyone knows.” A slight murmur and uneasy chuckle travels through the pack of hyenas also known as reporters and journalists. I think everyone’s deeply puzzled by my behavior.
“So, here’s what I’m going to do. I’m going to take a step back from my ego and listen to everything that the people around me have been telling me, everything they’ve been trying their damndest to help me with. Most of all, I’m going to listen to Victoria. I’m going to follow all of her instructions, and see how it goes.” I pause, glancing down my hands. “I’ve been putting myself, my demons, and my struggles first for a long time. But this season has forced me to realize that there’s someone else, someone far smarter and kinder who deserves to be first. Who I willalwaysput first.” I flash a wide smile to dickface reporter, who seems not to have any more comebacks, and slowly sinks back into his seat. “To answer your question directly: my agenda is to better myself, and give place to the people who know better than me, and thepersonwho knows me better than myself.”
Elio chuckles under his breath quietly. He leans over, taps me on the shoulder, and murmurs, “You really are fucked.”
Chapter Fifty-Three
Victoria
“Jesus Christ, this is going to set off a PR fuckingnightmare,” Delilah sighs, glancing from her phone to the TV screen.
I fled from the race—from the sound of Asher’s voice responding to my directives, from the crowd and the pressure—as soon as I could.BeforeI could see Asher, because all I wanted to do when he crossed the finish line in 8thplace was jump into his arms and celebrate. But I couldn’t. Not when I was still convinced he’d cast me aside for someone else the next time he got upset.
But Asher Lawrence just got on live fucking television and told me and the world in no uncertain terms that I’m not justgood,but I’m the best. He put me on a pedestal far above himself. He… he put me first in a way no one ever has.
“Oh for fuck’s sake, don’t cry,” Delilah mutters, giving me a derisive glance. “This is not my area of expertise. We need the drag queen in here to manage you while I manage this.”
“I—” a sob cuts off my words. “Oh,fuck.”
“Get a hold of yourself, Victoria. You’re above whatever—” she waves a hand at me, “—thisis. I can’t deal with you when you’re like this.”
“Delilah.” Her name comes out as another sob. “He just… he just—”
“Yes, he just made a love declaration for the whole world to see.” Her tone is bone-dry. “I’m aware. I’m going to go ahead and call in Keith to handle you while I devise a strategy to handle the shockwaves this is going to set off. In case it hasn’t hit you yet, he just put a massive spotlight on you—"
“I don’t care,” I cry. “Did youhear that?”
