Mechanic To Master (An F1 Fanfic) {Under Re-writing}

"And bring a dustbin!"

I got a really good start, managing to get away before Verstappen could get me, which meant Lewis would have to deal with him.

That was good... In a way. Mainly, because they'd be too involved with trying to take each other out to focus on me.

But, it would turn if they decided to take me on together, because I'd have no way of helping myself. It was no secret that the Ferraris weren't the most powerful cars on the grid.

Oh no, that title belonged to the Lewis' Merc, and Verstappen's Bull.

So, I had two of the most powerful cars on the grid behind me, and an almost flawless race to drive if I wanted it to stay that way.

I took a deep breath to calm my nerves. The car was especially co-operative today, and that was good. My shivering had halted as well, and my head began to clear, so the only thing I had to try my best to quell, were the random bouts of coughing when I spoke over the radio.

I was a hundred percent sure Kymara had caught on that I was ill, but I couldn't worry about that now. I had to focus on increasing my gap so I could pit, and so far everything was going well.

About 22 laps into the race, Kymara lost it over the radio.

"Box this lap, Kim! That's an order!"

"Overruled!"

"What? You can't overrule me! Box this lap!"

"No! I need to build up my gap. Give me 3-4 laps more!"

"No! Kim your tyres are beyond dead if you don't-"

I switched off my radio. I couldn't deal with this right now. However, I did manage to increase the gap. And could finally pit while maintaining my lead.

So, I turned on my radio and told them I was coming in.

Kymara was fuming (naturally), and I even got yelled at by Carson.

Oh! And, Mattia said he was disappointed with what I did.

I grinned at them, even though they couldn't see me. Let's see how unhappy they were after this race!

I drove down the pit lane- fitted with new hards- at snail speed, hoping to hell my calculations were correct.

And they were!

I came out almost three seconds in front of Max. But that's when things started getting difficult.

Max was on new hards as well, which meant in no time, he had closed down the gap between us.

Here's a pro tip: If you're ever forced to defend against Max Verstappen, wave a white flag, because there's no other way you'll survive. (Unless you wack him off the track, but I doubt the 'stews' will like you very much after that)

Because Max, was AGRESSIVE.

I barely managed to hold my place because I wasn't a defender, I was an attacking driver and I knew that. And apparently, so did Max.

Finally, after fighting off about 5 or 6 of his attacks, the gap between us began to increase, and I managed to pull myself out of the danger zone.

I sighed contentedly. But the race wasn't over yet.

With 10 laps to go, and a lot taken out of my tyres, I was struggling to make them last. And to make things worse, wave after wave of nausea assaulted me, making my stomach turn and my mouth taste mettalic.

This was not going to be good.

Five laps to go, and things were not going smoothly at all. Thankfully, I had a 15 second gap from Verstappen, which was increasing since Lewis was attacking him, but the vibrations were driving me crazy, and my nausea spiked higher than ever.

But somehow, I made it to the end while maintaining my lead. On the last lap before the checkered flag, Kymara and the team went wild.

Ecstatic screams plagued my radio, and all the irritation from the ruined pit strategy was forgotten. But my headache had gotten worse, and my breakfast was climbing back up my throat.

"Kymara!" I said, as loudly as I could to get her attention. "Meet me at the end of the race."

I paused, taking a deep breath.

"And bring a dustbin!"

"What?"

"Just do it, please!"

I rounded the last corner, shooting across the finish line. I could hear the crowd go wild, but all I was trying to do was finish the cool down lap.

I took deep breaths, trying to stabilise my nausea but nothing helped.

Then, finally after the cool down lap, I pulled into the the interview area, running over the '1' sign in my panic, and jumped out of the car, my hands working frantically to undo my helmet.

I looked around for Kymara, till I saw her standing in the crowd of the Ferrari team with a dustbin in her hand and a bewildered expression on her face.

I yanked off my helmet and balaclava and threw them on the ground before running towards her, and grabbing the dustbin, just in time to empty the contents of my stomach in it.

I retched and retched for almost a whole minute. Someone was rubbing my back, but I couldn't feel it. I was completely numb, and my whole body burned from fever and exhaustion.

I straightened up to find Lewis and Max standing there with bottles of water, some mouthwash and amused expressions.

I smiled awkwardly at them, before gladly accepting the the water and mouthwash.

Max grinned

"What a race! You were ill this whole time?"

I nodded, not sure what else to say.

"You are in so much trouble! You moron! Why would you do something like that?"

Kymara's angry voice rang out from behind me.

I turned.

"I won the race! Aren't you happy?"

"I am! But at the cost of your health? Are you insane?"

"Nope. I'm just ill. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have some interviews to attend. Ciao-ciao!" I shot her a grin and ran towards the interviewer, with Max and Lewis on my tail.