🏎🏎

Dakota bounced on her feet, her arms crossed over her chest. Her family sat in the back of the garage, her brother decked out in RedBull merch.

In all the years Dakota had been watching F1, her brother had latched on to one name. And that name was Max Verstappen.

He had even ditched the red Ferrari hat for the weekend, replacing it with an orange #33 one.

"If Lewis wins this race, I'm going to cry," he stated, watching the cars start up on the screen.

"Oh shush, if he wins. He wins. It's deserved regardless," Dakota huffed, tightening the laces of her racing boots.

Her parents watched her silently, admiring their daughter.

For a while, they worried for her.

Dakota grew up an outcast in her class. Everyone knew her story.

They knew her life story, whether she wanted them to or not. Whispers would carry through the wind, reaching her ears. Their words, chipping away at her resilience.

Emiliano was there for her, no matter what.

The two had grown up glued to each other.

Until Dakota graduated early, leaving her brother to fend for himself in his first year of high school.

That was when things took a turn for the worst.

The whispers returned, even more haunting this time. This time, they were for Emiliano.

Hood up, eyes down, her brother had no one to turn to.

Not even Dakota.

He suffered in silence until that one horrible evening that played out as a nightmare.

The evening she got a panicked phone call from his friend.

"Kota, I don't know what to do! Oh my God, he's not breathing!"

"What? What's happening? Where are you guys?"

"Some guys house, fuck I don't even know. Emil drove us here, shit man. Someone call the police! He's OD'ing!"

"What did he take?"

"Someone get the police!"

"Hey! What did he over dose on?"

"Oi, keys!" she shouted, snapping her parents out of their wistful daze.

"You ok?" Emiliano asked, noticing the expression on his parents' faces.

"Yeah, never been better," his father smiled, patting his shoulder. "Her jobs pretty cool, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugged.

Moment's later, he spoke up.

"Who am I kidding, it's the coolest thing ever."

"Be safe!" her mother shouted, waving at Dakota who gave her a thumbs up.

Flipping her visor down, she got into the car.

The initial part of Qualifying was uneventful.

Dakota and Mark sat impatiently in the car, waiting for something to happen.

"What's up with Perez, he's got zero pace," Mark pointed out.

"Hm yeah, he's been struggling since Spa," Dakota said. "Look at Lando, he's barely managed 15th."

Back in the McLaren garage, Daren and Lando's engineer stood scratching their heads.

Alessandro hopped out of the car, grabbing his waterbottle as Q1 came to and end.

"Mate, those cars need to stop lining up on the pit straight. It's dangerous," he muttered.

"Yeah, we saw the incident with Vettel," Ivan grimaced, recalling how he had almost crashed into a Haas on a flying lap.

The Italian raised his eyebrows when he noticed his teammate all the way down in 15th.

"Something wrong with his car?"

"No, we can't figure it out. He's lacking pace, but the car is fine."

"Your brother's a pretty cool kid," Mark commented as the second portion of qualifying began.

"Oh really? What makes you think that?" Dakota snorted in amusement, leaning her head back.

"He's quiet, but he knows a lot."

"Yeah, people think he always has his head in the clouds but he's just observing everything around him."

"You two a-"

C>"Oooh and that's George Russel in the barriers! He was way too aggressive on the way in to that corner."

RC>"Red Flag. Red Flag."

D>"Copy.'

Alessandro was currently P6, his pace looking promising on track.

E>"Red Flag. Red Flag. Russel in the wall."

A>"Copy."

E>"Currently P6. Good job. Lando down in P13."

Lando groaned in frustration. His laps weren't coming together well enough to bring him out of the bottom 5. If he didn't put in a good lap, he would be out of qualifying.

With only a minute left in Q2, Lando was out of qualifying and would start P13 for the race.

"Yeah, sorry about that mate," his engineer grimaced, patting his shoulder.

"Fuck, I couldn't have done it even without the red flag. The car was just not performing," Lando groaned, running a hand through his hair.

"That's a shame," Dakota sighed, watching Lando on the screen.

She chewed on her bottom lip, watching Max head out for a flying lap.

C>"We've seen with Max, when the car's a bit twitchy, he's super fast and I think we're gonna see that now."

Sure enough, the Dutchman's name flew up to the top of the timing charts as he set 3 purple sectors.

Mark let out a whistle and Dakota nodded, impressed. It was his home race and he was there to deliver.

C>"With Russel out of the race, Hamilton is the only one that can deny Verstappen of pole position! Can Hamilton deny Verstappen?! No he can't! Hamilton is alongside Verstappen on the front row for the Dutch Grand Prix!"

Dakota let out a breath, leaning back in her seat. Mark leaned back as well, unbuckling his seatbelt.

"That was intense," was the first thing Emiliano said to his sister when she reentered the garage.

"Welcome to F1," Mark grinned, patting his back.

"Can I come every weekend?" he asked, hopefully.

"Haha, no."

"Meanie."

"What are you? 12?" she teased, looking back at him.

Not looking where she was going, she bumped into someone.

"Sorry! I wasn't looking where I was going."

"It's ok, I'll let it slide this time," Alessandro said, attempting to crack a joke.

Dakota gave him a small smile, avoiding his gaze.

"Good job today," she said, knowing he was starting P8 tomorrow.

"Thanks," he nodded, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I have to go," Dakota mumbled, brushing past him and quickly walking away.

Well shit.

So much for apologizing.

------------------------------

"Jesus Christ Alessandro, you can't do that!" Lando exclaimed, tossing a chip at his teammate who was pacing in the hotel room.

"I can't apologize?" the Italian asked in confusion.

"No, you muppet! You can't just keep fucking up and apologizing. Then your apology doesn't mean anything," he said, exasperated.

"I'm trying! I'm not good at things like this."

"Try harder because from the outside, it looks like you just want to play with her feelings."

Alessandro stayed silent, standing with his hands on his hips as he stared out the window.

Loud notifications from both their phones cut through the silent hotel room.

The two drivers shared a look before reaching for their phones.

: Alessandro Moreno's race engineer Dave Monroe fired from McLaren

Alessandro blinked, staring at the notification. He hesitated before clicking on it.

CEO Zak Brown confirmed late Saturday evening that Dave Monroe will no longer be working for McLaren. He has been accused of sabotaging, breaking confidentiality, and leaking classified information amongst other things. The question remains who will take his place as Alessandro Moreno's race engineer with 9 races left to go. Many speculate that .....

"Thank fuck!" Alessandro exclaimed, looking at the ceiling.

A sense of relief washed over him as Lando gave him a high five.

"Heck yeah!" the Brit cheered, his snacks forgotten on the bed.

A knock sounded at the door and Lando rushed to open it.

"Hey," Dakota greeted, breathless from running down the hotel hallway.

"Hey, come in," he said, moving aside to let her in.

She was still dressed in her morning attire from the track this morning. Her high ponytail had dropped down to the nape of her neck, several strands hanging out.

She looked tired, but still beautiful. A mask covered her face, but it made her big eyes stand out.

"I'll get going," Alessandro cleared his throat, grabbing his jacket.

"No, I actually came here to give this to you," Dakota said, holding out a folder.

Alessandro stared at her for a few moments before taking the folder.

"It's a full report of the investigation so you can see what was changed on the car for every race. I'm sure Ivan will be more than happy to go over anything you're confused about."

"Has he seen this?" Alessandro asked.

"Yes, everyone who's still down at the track has. I tried to get it to you before the media released it, but those fuckers are quick with it."

"Thank you," he said quietly, meeting her gaze.

"Do you want something to drink?" Lando asked, interrupting their stare off.

"Oh, yes please," she sighed, pulling the loops of her mask off her ears.

"Long day?" he asked as she sat on the chair by the window.

"The longest, I swear my brother is worse than you," she muttered.

"Oh come on, he's not that bad," Lando laughed, shaking his head.

"I heard you gave him a tour of your car," Dakota said, glancing at Alessandro.

He felt his cheeks heat up as he nodded quietly.

"Thanks for doing that. He wouldn't shut up about it."

"I hope you're saying that in a good way," he said, cracking a small smile.

"Yeah, it's been a while since I've seen him this happy," she said, a wistful smile on her face.

"Are you guys actually sibling? Cuz you look nothing like each other," Lando blurted out.

Dakota laughed as Alessandro gave his teammate a look.

"He's not my biological brother."

Now it was Alessandro's turn to look at her in confusion.

She noticed the boys' expressions and let out a sigh.

"I'm adopted."

They both blinked, processing what she had just said.

"Ohhhhh! No wonder your parents are so different!" Lando exclaimed, realization crossing his face.

"Yeah," she chuckled, taking a sip of her drink.

Her gaze flickered to Alessandro who was watching her with a thoughtful expression on his face.

"Right, well I better get going. It's been a long day," she said, standing up.

She wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans, making her way to the door.

Dakota had been waiting for one of them to pop the question. It was easier for her if they knew. She couldn't keep it a secret much longer.

Everyone always found out she was adopted. Either they put two and two together, or word spread like wildfire.

She bid the boys goodnight, walking down the hall to her room.

"Go after her!" Lando whisper-yelled, nudging Alessandro.

"What? Right now?"

"Now or never! You can't keep putting it off forever. She deserves an apology."

"But she said she was tired," Alessandro said, scrambling for an excuse.

"Oh fuck that. She can spare a few minutes," Lando huffed, pushing his teammate out of his room and shutting the door.

"Dakota!" he called, making her flinch as his loud voice echoed through the hallway.

"Shh, people are sleeping!" she scolded, whispering loudly.

"Sorry," he whispered, jogging to catch up to her.

"If you're here to bust my ass about something, please save it for tomorrow," she began.

"I'm sorry," he interrupted, playing with the ring on his finger nervously.

She blinked, staring up at him. Her throat went dry and she swallowed, suddenly desperate for some water.

"Not this again," she muttered under her breath, turning on her heels.

Alessandro reached out, gently grabbing her arm.

"I'm serious, Dakota. I really am sorry. I didn't mean to say what I said," he stressed, desperate to get his message across.

"Look, I- I've never been good at this stuff. Feelings are too complicated for me. I always end up saying the wrong thing."

"Well that's an understatement," she mumbled.

"I just- I like you, Dakota. I like you a lot. And I'm trying, I really am."

Dakota stood silent for a few moments before letting out a long sigh.

"I know."

Alessandro's perked up, a hopeful expression on his face.

"I can tolerate you, Moreno," was all she said before walking off to her hotel room.

"What does that mean?" he called after her.

"I dunno, you tell me," she smirked, closing the door behind her.