𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐋𝐃𝐖𝐀𝐑 | 𝐆𝐄𝐎𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐑𝐔𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐋𝐋

C H A P T E R S E V E N T E E N

WILLIAMS F1 HOSPITALITY
GEORGE RUSSELL'S ROOM

GEORGE held his head in his hands as he began to relive the moments that had occurred just before. He had moved at exactly the wrong moment, not knowing Zia had already decided to go around his outside.

His race engineer had specifically told him to move, so he did, and he still ended up screwing Zia's chance at a good last race with Red Bull, and probably the future Ferrari drive.

He tried to find her after the session, but she had left as soon as she had gotten out of the car, and as far as he knew, hadn't spoke to anyone.

He knew she wanted him dead. She would be livid with him. "And rightly so." he thought to himself. "I did just end her career."

George stood up. He had to go and find her. There was no point in sitting in his driver's room, whilst Zia was probably cursing him.

He was determined to tell her the truth, he couldn't have another Mugello. He walked towards his door, stopped, then walked back over to his sofa. He walked back to the door again, but no luck still.

He was... scared.

He didn't know how she would react, but he felt the need to explain to her, make her understand he meant no harm.

He didn't want Zia to hate him.

He took another walk towards the door, but froze when it knocked.

"Russell."

He closed his eyes. "Shit." Hesitantly, he opened the door, and saw Zia's angry frame in the doorway.

"You just can't leave me alone can you?" she said, and attempted to laugh, but it came out almost crazy.

He stepped asides. and gestured his head so she could go inside, so they could argue without the prying are of the William's crew.

The moment he shut the door, she began to rant.

"You are a fucking prick you know that. Mugello, now this, you just can't seem to fucking leave me alone! What is my car a fucking magnet to you?"

George knew better than to interrupt.

"God all I needed this weekend was to have a good quali. 'Cause when I have good quali's I have good races and I swear to God if I loose that fucking Ferrari seat because of you Russell I'll fucking-"

"You'll fucking what?" George retorted. "You can't do anything, you won't do anything."

Zia raised her eyebrows at him. "Do you wanna' test out your theory?"

George sighed. "Look Zia if you just let me explain-"

"You don't have to explain I know exactly what happened."

"You don't-"

"Yes I fucking do!" Zia was very angry at this stage. "You fucking went into me! Again. Every time I'm trying to prove myself, you get in my fucking way."

"Maybe you're just trying to hard and I happen to be there when you do and you're trying to place the blame on me because you can't accept that maybe you're doing to much!"

Zia took a few steps forward. "Oh that's great! Fucking perfect yeah, 'I'm trying to hard.' I'm sorry but I don't see you freaking out about not having anywhere to go. Oh right! That's because you're Toto Wolff's little golden child who can't do anything wrong! Even when you drive into me!"

George too took a few steps forward, now matching Zia's anger. "Toto's Golden Boy? Wow Zia. That's creative."

"You know you are so fucking annoying Russell."