Woman- A Formula 1 Fan Fiction

Chapter 12

My practice and qualifying sessions in Bahrain seemed good on paper, but didn't necessarily please my high standards. My car seemed a little off to me during all three of the practices, mostly on braking- they weren't sensitive enough when I went around corners, so I had to try and adjust to the new issue. The team tried to manage it as much as possible, and I tried to perform as well as I could, but it didn't work out the way I had wanted it to. My practice times were second best to George, which annoyed me to oblivion. I went to qualifying feeling less confident, and it showed. I qualified second, just behind George. It was definitely disappointing, even though it is a position that is going to give me a good start tomorrow. I have very high ambitions this year for Formula 1, and out qualifying my teammate is one of them.

I leave the track feeling quite discouraged, but I tell myself to show George the excitement he has shown for my victories in the past. When we both got out of our cars after qualifying, I gave him a quick fist bump, and discussed the successes and problems with both of our cars. I will try not to give my engineers and mechanics heck when we get to the post quali meetings, but my brakes better be absolutely perfect in time to race tomorrow- I expect nothing less from such a top tier team. I put on a fake smile to show my pride for George's achievement and attend several interviews to end my entirely disappointing day.

George and I get into our usual car back to the hotel, which is a ten minute drive from the circuit. Liz is upfront once more with us, and she discusses more PR techniques with him. I stare out the window in silence, thinking doubtfully for the day tomorrow. I need to put myself into a do or die situation, or a positive mindset. I don't know which one will give me the most success, as my flight or fight mode will give me loads of anxiety, and positivity might give me a feeling of comfort. The last thing I need is comfort, comfort makes me vulnerable.

"Are you okay, Steeler?" I hear George ask,  his voice thick with concern.

I look at him with a sad smile. I know he will think I am being dramatic about my little loss, so I fake my emotions once more to be happy for my generous teammate.

"Of course, Russell. A little disappointed in myself, but extremely happy for you and the team,"

"No need to be so hard on yourself, your car was acting up quite a bit"

"Everyone puts great expectations on me, George"

"No one puts more expectations on yourself than you though, You see that don't you?"

I look to George, pleadingly. He doesn't see the pressure that has been set up for me since the very beginning. I am a girl, not even a woman yet. I am freshly 19, barely an adult. Therefore, I am expected to be worse than most men in the circuit. But seeing young girls being inspired by me is such a blessing to watch, and I cannot let the female population down. I have such a passion for the sport, like most girls do, but they see themselves as unable to have a career in such a male dominated sport. It's not even the media- it's the girls watching me around the world, seeing what I can do, and being inspired. Some men can't see that, and most likely are not able to even see or experience it.

"You will never understand George. I put pressure on myself for a reason". George looks at me a little astounded, eyes slightly wide.

"If anything Hannah, I should understand the most. The first two seasons in my Formula 1 career I was on the shittiest team, my first season I never even scored a point. I know what it's like to have pressure."

George was right. I shouldn't think so selfishly, he has had his sense of hardship throughout the sport as well. I tend to forget unfortunately, that Formula 1 is scary for every single driver.

"I know. Sorry."

I have too much pride to tell him anything else. He just won't understand. I continue to silence myself and look out the window at the passing scenery. I hear George give a soft sigh, and he gives me a quick squeeze on my shoulder. I feel slightly comforted by the brotherly touch, but nothing can really help me recover from the disappointment from today.