No Going Back (Nyck de Vries X OC)

The moment

I am getting ready to watch the latest Formula 1 race with some of the other Formula 4 drivers. I always enjoy watching my brother Jules racing after all he has risen through the ranks comfortably. This time I am on edge. It is a wet race and I have never liked watching wet races. Participating in them is a little easier but still being in the wet is the worst. The thing is I know that Jules will know what he is doing but I like it when things are under my control. I am hoping that the others don't pick up on my unease. I really don't want to talk about it since I want the others to enjoy the race.

"Would anyone like anything to drink?" my teammate and best friend Nyck de Vries asks. He basically leaps out of the seat which gets a small giggle from me. Even though he doesn't know it he has put my mind at ease.

"Sure I'll have some water," I respond. My nerves have made my throat dry so I take Nyck up on his offer. The good thing is everyone else is quick to add their orders. He soon comes back with the drinks. He passes them around as I notice that one of the older drivers is nervous.

"You know you and Charles need to relax," Nyck remarks having picked up on the unease going between me and another one of my friends, Charles Leclerc.

"But I hate wet races," He snaps. He is not the only one. The room falls silent as the lights go out. The drivers get off to a good start despite the fact that it is wet. A small cheer makes its way through the group. I am definitely not feeling the same enthusiasm. I try my best but I just have a nasty feeling that something is going to go wrong. The joy from the start soon subdues. I can feel myself sink further into my chair as the race goes on. Come on Jules keep pushing. I basically send a little prayer to whoever is listening. Disaster soon strikes. One of the drivers hits the barrier. Even though it was not Jules that lost control I still hate the fact that my suspicion is confirmed.

"They definitely shouldn't have raced," I hear Charles mutter. I agree but I am not the race director. I am about to say something but I am stopped. I am hit by another wave of dread as another car falls victim to the rain. I can barely make out the number but I recognise the number seventeen on the car.

"Crap," I can only get one word out before I am hit by full-blown concern. The sight of the wreckage is beyond terrifying. Words can't even begin to describe the shock that I am feeling. I find myself silently cursing the race director.

"We can confirm that Jules Bianchi has lost control," The voice of the commentator brings me back to reality. My concern is only made worse by the fact that the other driver involved is trying to help but nothing seems to be working.

"Jess it will be ok," Nyck quickly gets to work on reassuring me. Thankfully he is smart enough to turn the TV off. It has been one painful month since the accident and there is a lot going through my mind. Why did it have to be Jules? Will I be able to race in Formula 1? Will there be other options? At least I know I will have support. Right now I am breaching myself for the worst day of my life. The doctor has declared my brother brain dead which means all of the hope of him making a full recovery is gone. I can feel the guilt working its way up as the doctor pulls the plug on my brother's life support. At least, my mum, dad and Charles are here. I don't think I would have the courage to follow through with making the decision. The thing is I have lost a big part of my life. I am trying my best to remain strong but I just can't. Picking up on my unease, Charles pulls me out of the room.

"Thank you for your help Charles," I mumble as he pulls me into a hug. I can feel the burning sensation of tears working their way up. I bury myself in Charles' chest. I wish that Nyck was here to cheer me up a little.

"I just wish the circumstances could be better," Charles responds. There is some comfort in his hug but my world has been shattered. It has been six painful years since the crash that claimed my brother's life. I am getting ready for the last race in the Formula 2 calendar. I need to win this race to win the championship but at this point, I don't care. My teammate Mick Schumacher will win the championship if I don't come first. He deserves it since he gave me some help in my darkest days. The thing is I don't have to worry about my future. I will be partaking in Formula E. There is a subtle feeling of guilt behind the decision but I know I can't make it in Formula 1 since it was the sport that claimed my brother's life.