Guys, I'm alive. Shocking, I know.
🏎 Baku City Circuit - Azerbaijan🏎
The first impact rocked his entire body in the cockpit of his car. The second impact was the barriers.
Pain flared in every part of his body. All he could see was a whirl of colors and pierces of debris flying through the air.
Finally the rocking motion came to a stop. Darkness clouded his vision.
The sound of tiny rocks pelting his car drowned out by the high pitched whine of the engine.
Then everything went silent.
"Oh and there's a big crash! That is a big crash indeed."
"Okay, okay we're definelty having a red flag. Oh gosh."
"That is Moreno in the barriers and George Russels Mercedes' in the runoff area."
Fuck. Fuck.
"Alessandro are you okay? Are you okay?"
"Alessandro, I need you to respond if you can hear me. Are you okay?"
"Oh god, he's passed out," Aaron breathed, a horrified look on his face.
The entire Mclaren garage- no the entire pit lane in fact went silent.
Dakota felt the floor away beneath her feet.
"Oh my god," she breathed, her voice shaking.
She could hear Adami trying to get in Contact with Alessandro. But there was no response.
He was so still. Too still.
There was no movement from the cockpit.
The cameras cut to the other cars, leaving everyone hoping for a replay of the incident hanging.
48 hours earlier...
Dakota's POV
Everyone knows wildfires can spread. Pretty quickly if there's wind and enough stuff to burn. It takes three things to start a fire.
Oxygen, heat, and fuel.
Alessandro was the heat. I was the oxygen. And the sports outlets and instagram fan accounts were the fuel.
And our relationship was the goddamn fire.
It was incredible how much people found out in such little time. By the time we had made it home from the club that night, my photo was plastered on every single fan account known to man.
Deadass.
But I was too drunk to give a fuck. That was future me's problem.
Future me, as in right now.
I woke up to the sun heating my room in the late afternoon. The hotel was completely silent, only the muffled sounds of Monaco's traffic were heard.
I didn't even want to check my phone after I remembered the events of the previous night. My lock screen indicated 7 missed calls from Alessandro that morning, a few texts from friends, and a single text from the man himself: Zak Brown.
"Oh shit," I muttered to myself, quickly sitting up in bed.
Morning Dakota,
Please meet us in the conference room at the airport at 3. That should be plenty of time for you to sleep in, we have important things to discuss.
YOU ARE READING
Dolce Vittoria | Formula 1
RandomSEQUEL to Gaining Traction "Buckle up Moreno, it's time for the drive of your life," Dakota smiled, patting the front of his shiny car. "Tell Norris to get a good look at the back of my car. He'll be seeing it more often," Alessandro smirked under...
