Adrenaline

23 | very important person

"Cute." I tap the pole position trophy Brendon is carrying; it's a small tyre with his name and winning lap time stamped in metallic silver.

        Coming back feels normal, unlike a newbie as I was last time, though my Formula One knowledge has only marginally grown since. The badge with my name, picture, and "VIP" in bold letters hangs around my neck while the green and black attire I've chosen represents the team I'm rooting for.

        I haven't been to another race yet so I have nothing to compare it to, but Brendon's entire body comes alive whenever he sets foot in Albert Park Circuit.

        Sweat drips from his forehead and he wipes it away with a small towel while twirling the trophy in his hand. He informed me before qualifying started that if he won pole position, he and the team would be giving it away to a fan after the race, so he's admiring it before he has to sign and hand it over.

        "How was your debrief?"

        Brendon laughs and pivots toward the area with all of the motorhomes, waiting for me to follow along with him before he starts walking. "It was good. Car was on fire today."

        "The car or you?" I chuckle. "Idris had a rough start."

        Not that I'm trying to insult him; just a simple observation. Though it's only the first race of the season, so I don't doubt the titan will bounce back quickly. Getting used to a new car every season, even one built to suit their driving style, can't be easy, and on my way in this morning I heard he got over a nasty cold a day ago so he's still feeling sluggish. Idris has to settle for a P6 start tomorrow. Not terrible but not what he or the team were hoping for. It's not often we see a Windsor driver starting outside of the first two rows.

        "Yeah." Brendon winces. As much as he's looking out for himself and hoping to win—that is the job of an F1 driver, after all—he still has to contribute to a Constructors Championship, so he's mindful of whether or not his teammate is looking good on the track as well. "Think something was up with his car. He was doing better at the practice sessions. But he'll be fine. He always is."

        Watching Brendon breezily seize a fastest lap time in Q3—the final session of qualifying where the top ten drivers make their attempts at securing the fastest lap of the session—for provisional pole position is impressive either way, and if tomorrow's race unfolds in a similar way, he'll be sitting high up on the top of the podium.

        I've been in the Windsor hospitality suite going over work emails while Brendon finishes shop talk with the rest of his team, as well as the press conference. When he grabs me, a trail of journalists are hot on his tail, but he dodges them as soon as he enters the building.

        Now that we're leaving, they're back and hungry for more answers. Brendon does a good job of keeping them entertained while doing his best to hide me from the cameras as much as possible. I'm sure there are already pictures circulating of the two of us since we arrived at the track together this morning, but there's nothing I can do about it. They're respectful, only briefly greeting me and telling me they hope I have a good day.

        "How was the car, Bash?"

        Brendon lifts his trophy. "Pretty good. Our amazing and hardworking team managed to fix a lot of the problems we had back at testing so we're hopeful for a good result tomorrow."

        I keep my head down while we make our way over, but it's hard not to sneak a glimpse here and there of Brendon in his element. Considering how brunch with his family ended the other day, he deserves to enjoy himself. It's just sad he isn't able to enjoy it with his sister.