Drive to Survive

Chapter One

Chapter One

Shit. 

Shit.

Shit.

That was what was running through Dylan James' head as she stood in her room, surrounded by suitcases. The space looked like it had been hit by a tornado; clothes were everywhere with no sense of organisation, there were odd pairs of shoes scattered over the bed, and an array of handbags hung off door handles and bedposts. It was safe to say that Dylan was not good at packing, least of all when she had no idea what to take and an overwhelming sense of panic running through her chest.

She'd just put the phone down, having been on a call with the Red Bull Communications Manager, discussing her onboarding process. It was insane to even think about that. When she'd got the job with Netflix a few weeks ago, she knew she'd be working with one of the F1 drivers for the new Drive to Survive series, but she didn't expect it to be the current World Champion, Max Verstappen. 

She knew that the drivers had been allowed to choose their assigned buddies so she was half excited and half befuddled to have been chosen to follow the defending champion.

Why had he chosen her? 

She had to give some credit to her CV. She had an ideal background for Formula One having studied Engineering at both undergraduate and postgraduate level and she knew her significant social media platform spoke for itself in terms of her content skills. Yet, she was twenty-three; she thought she'd be cast off to some corner of the Williams garage to try put a positive spin on their placements. 

But no, she was going to be in the Red Bull garage, on the front-line for another bid at a Driver's World Championship, and this time a Constructor's Championship as well. Max Verstappen was one of the best drivers in F1 right now, if not ever. 

As an engineering student, she greatly admired the way he drove and controlled the car, it was like he could physically tune himself into the mechanics of it. To work alongside him, even in a social media capacity, was her dream and she couldn't quite wrap her head around it. 

Just as she was about to descend into another introspective spiral, her phone lit up again, this time with an incoming call from one of her cousins. She slid her thumb across the screen, holding it up to her ear.

"Ey, ¿qué pasa?"

"Chiquita, ¡hola!" 

"Carlos, no me llames 'chiquita' por fa, I'm twenty-three for the love of God!"

Her cousin laughed, loving how easy she was to wind up every single time.

"I've got six years on you, Dyl, you'll always be little to me."

Dylan grumbled, wishing she could teleport to Madrid and whack Carlos in the face like she used to when they were younger. He'd annoyingly shot up about ten years ago and his head was a bit harder to reach for her 5"3 self these days. 

"Why are you calling?" She asked, "Pre-season not keeping you busy enough?"

"Pre-season is killing me. Rupert has never heard of the phrase 'rest day'." He whined, causing her to giggle, "But the reason I was calling was because we just found out our 'DTS Buddies' - yes, that's what your bosses have decided to call it - so I'm guessing you know who you're assigned to now."