"What is up with this heat?" I complained, shielding my face with my hand.

"Welcome to Silverstone," Mark sighed, wiping the sweat off his upper lip with the collar of his shirt.

Yesterday had been quite a show with the Sprint Race format being run this weekend.

Instead of the regular practice and qualifying to set the grid, this weekend we had a 17 lap race added on.

Qualifying would set the grid for the sprint race. The finishing order of the sprint race set the grid for Race Day.

Max was on pole, a big disappointment for Mark and the other British Hamilton fans. Lando had managed to slot himself into P5, with Alessandro right behind him in P6.

This was the first race this season where the grandstands were at full capacity. More than 140,000 people were in attendance.

There was 20 minutes remaining till lights out and I was currently drowning my insides in water.

"I'm going to sit inside until I absolutely have to come out," I grumbled, heading into the garage for some shade.

"You're smart," Mark grinned, following suit.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled through instagram for a while. Just as I was about to get more water, Aaron came running into the garage.

"Dakota, I need your help," he panted, leaning against the wall.

"What happened? What's going on?"

"It's Alessandro. He's asking for you."

"What?" I repeated like the dumb bitch I am, but followed after him anyways.

Nobody in the McLaren garage seemed concerned, milling about their business unconcerned.

"Mate, open the door," Aaron banged on the glossy door.

It was silent.

"I'm coming in," he said, twisting the doorknob.

The room was completely dark, the only light coming in from the corners of the window where the curtain didn't cover.

The door shut, the noises from the garage immediately disappeared.

"Alessandro, are you okay?" I asked, gently touching his shoulder.

He sat on the edge of the couch in his driver room, hunched over with his head in his hands.

"I feel like I can't breathe," he rasped, clenching his hair in a fist.

I quickly turned on the fan, a blast of cool, fresh air hitting us. A water bottle sat on the table in the corner.

His breath was coming in shallow pants. His hands were shaking violently as I gently put mine over them.

"Breathe, in and out. You're only hurting yourself by panicking."

"No shit, Sherlock," he shot back, his voice shaky.

I pinched his thigh, making him hiss in pain.

His grip on my hand was so tight, I was sure he would break a bone if he squeezed any harder.

Reaching up, I undid the velcro collar of his racing suit.

"Damn, take me on a date first," he joked, trying to calm himself down.

"Don't worry, we'll have plenty of time for that after the race," I smirked.

"I mean, since you're already on your knees..."

"Oh fuck off," I rolled my eyes, pinching him again.

Alessandro's breathing seemed to have evened out. His grip on my hand loosened as he took a sip of water.

"What caused it this time?"

"Nothing, I was just worried about the race. And I guess I started overthinking and then freaked out. God, this is so embarrassing, I'm sorry," he mumbled, putting his face in his hands.

"Shh, it's not. I'm glad you called me. You shouldn't have to go through that alone. It happens, it's anxiety."

"I've never had it before. I have no idea what's wrong with me."

"Have you tried talking to Aaron about it? He was really worried when he came to get me."

Alessandro was silent, staring at the poster of his car on the wall.

His hair was a mess, prompting me to reach out and fix it. His skin was damp, cheeks flushed pink.

cute.

He hummed quietly as I ran my hand through his hair.

"Does that feel good?" I asked, stifling a laugh as his eyes flew open.

He quickly pulled away from me, standing up.

"What time is it?" he asked, changing the subject which made me laugh.

Alessandro glared at me, a scowl on his face.

"8 minutes till lights out," I informed, pulling my balaclava out of my pocket.

We both got our selves ready in silence, pulling our helmets on over our heads.

I flipped up my visor, meeting Alessandro's gaze as he put his earplugs in. The wire disappeared under his racing suit and he zipped it up again.

His chromatic helmet covered his head and he fiddled with the strap under his chin.

The entire time, his eyes stayed locked on mine.

His eyes squinted as he smiled behind his helmet, pulling my long hair out from under my helmet.

"Thanks," I mumbled, self consciously running a hand through it.

He pat my head, slipping past me into the garage.

I felt like I was going to suffocate with helmet on as 3 minutes remained till the formation lap.

I watched as Alessandro jumped into the car to get strapped in. He reached out, giving me a fist bump. With a final nod, I turned and made my way into the red Mercedes safety car that sat at the end of the pit lane.

"I feel like we might get some fireworks today," Mark said as I got into the car. The formation lap began, allowing drivers to warm up their tires.

"You think?" I chuckled, knowing both Max and Lewis were starting first and second again. That combination didn't have a very good track record this season.

"Everything good?"

"Yup, screens are working and radio is clear."

Mark nodded, looking ahead at the 20 cars as they lined up on the grid.

C>"And it's lights out and away we go! Max Verstappen gets a decent start, but Hamilton is right with him! Leclerc is ahead of Russel already in P3! Verstappen's ahead of Hamilton out of the turn 2!"

C>" It's the RedBull ahead but Hamilton's coming back!"

"Oh God," Mark muttered, peeking out from behind his hands.

I was holding my breath, watching the huge TV screens as the two cars went side by side down the straight.

M>"It's not over yet because Hamilton has a slipstream all the way down into Copse corner!"

C>"Hamilton's going to try again on the inside and they touch! Verstappen is out of the race and that's a big crash!"

"Fuckity fuck," Mark sang as I put the car into drive, speeding out onto the track.

"Yellow flag, sector 2."

"Copy."

C>"Hamilton continues on, Charles Leclerc is now leading the British Grand Prix. For the second time this season, Hamilton and Verstappen crash on the opening lap!"

"Damn, I said fireworks but not a whole dynamite explosion," Mark muttered under his breath as we passed by the site of the crash.

"Thankfully he's walking away from that," I remarked, catching sight of Max walking towards the Medical Car.

We were out on track for about 4 more laps before the track was cleared for racing.

E>"Green Flag, Green Flag."

A> "Copy."

I slammed by foot down on the throttle as we passed through the straight.

A>"Positions?"

E>"P1 LeClerc, Hamilton, Lando, Russel, you."

P5. I could work with that.

The car felt good, the balance and everything was perfect. It was doing exactly what I wanted it to do.

I glanced in my rearview mirrors, spotting Alonso trying to pass me in his blue Alpine.

As we approached turn 9, he went off the track as he overtook me.

A>"He needs to give that place back."

E>"Copy, he will."

Moments later, he pulled off to the side to let me pass.

He had gone off track at the turn which was prohibited.

A few more laps passed by again, both Ivan and Daren only providing necessary information over the radio. I was grateful for the silence, it helped me focus on driving rather than deciphering the importance of the info being given.

E>"Lando still P3, LeClerc has engine problems."

A>"Gap to P4?"

E>"Gap to Russel 1.8 seconds. You can catch him Alé."

I pushed the confirm button on my steering wheel as a new wave of motivation washed over me. I could get that fourth place from George.

Around 6 laps later, I realized my tires were starting to wear out. I

E>" We need to box soon."

A>"Copy, two laps and I will overtake."

E>"Two laps, that's all we can afford."

I bit the inside of my cheek, braking as late as I could into the corner. I was gaining on Russel in the corners, but the Mercedes had too much straight line speed.

I was almost on top of him in the second sector, waiting for him to make a mistake.

And he did.

He went wide out of the final corner and I took my opportunity to speed past him into fourth place.

E>"Lando is boxing now. Build a gap so we can pit."

E>"And Lewis has a 10 second penalty for the collision with Max."

I had to create enough distance between George and I so I could pit and come out in front of him. Or else all that hard work would be for nothing.

The whole race seemed to pass by at a snails pace. It felt like an eternity before I was finally called in to change my tires.

E>"Box and pit confirm. Box and pit confirm."

A>"Copy, boxing now."

I darted into the pit box, feeling the car rock as it was lifted by the jack.

My eyes stared at the red light above, waiting for it to turn green.

Two seconds became four seconds and four became six.

Finally, I was released into the pit lane.

A>"What was that?"

E>"There was a problem with the wheel gun sensory, we're sorry about that Alessandro."

A>"Fuck, what position am I in?"

E>" Currently P6."

A>"Oh for fucks sake."

Lap after lap, I managed to get closer and closer. I overtook Sainz in the Ferrari, bringing me right behind Lando.

Now there was nothing left for me to do. My race was over.

I would finish P5 at the British Grand Prix, behind my teammate.

It was too risky to let both of us race each other for fourth place, and definitely not worth causing a crash.

A>"Updates on what's happening ahead?"

E>"The Mercedes asked to invert the cars, Russel P3 and Hamilton P2 now. Leclerc still leading."

A>"Damn, Charles still leading in the Ferrari?"

E>"Yes, they fixed his engine problems. But looks like Hamilton might get him."

A>"And Max? How is he doing?"

E>"At the hospital for precautionary checks."

I was secretly cheering for Charles, he deserved the win after leading the race for 49 laps.

But only moments later, I heard Daren come on the radio.

E>"He's passed him. Chequered flag, Lando finished P4, you are P5."

A>"Great points for the team."

E>"Great drive today Alé. Sorry about the pit stop, we'll discuss it during the debrief."

I sighed, getting out of the car. A dull ache settled in the back of my head as I removed my helmet.

My head was throbbing, my throat desperate for some water.

My body felt weak and tired and all I wanted to do was jump in bed in my air conditioned hotel room and sleep for hours.

I jumped when someone bumped into my side, shaking me from my hazy state.

I glanced down to find Dakota staring up at me, a smile playing on her lips. She looked cute with her long hair was messed up by the helmet.

"Vitamin juice," she said, holding out a bottle.

I grinned, taking it from her.

"Just what I needed,"I said, giving her a wink before I entered the media pen for interviews.