#toto wolff would be devastated

[awkwardrocker]

If the Sainz to Merc rumors are true, Redbull has the opportunity to do the funniest thing....

Sainz goes to Merc

Yuki goes to either AMR (taking Stroll's spot) or to Audi

And VCARB signs Liam and Kimi to a deal

[pucksandpower]

For the Best

Logan Sargeant x Wolff!Reader

Summary: Logan thinks that losing his Williams seat marks the beginning of the end … little does he know that it’s really just the start of the rest of his life

Logan steps into the cool, air-conditioned room, his race suit clinging to his skin after a grueling drive. The contrast between the bustling paddock and the quiet meeting room is jarring, and he can’t shake the feeling that something’s off.

His team principal sits at the head of the table, his usually cheerful demeanor replaced by a somber expression. Beside him, to Logan’s surprise, is the imposing figure of Mercedes’ team principal.

“Logan, thanks for coming,” James begins, his voice careful and measured. “Please, have a seat.”

Logan slides into a chair, his heart rate picking up. “What’s this about?” He asks, trying to keep his voice steady.

James and Toto exchange a glance before James clears his throat. “Logan, you’ve been a valuable part of our team, and we’ve appreciated your dedication and hard work.”

The use of past tense doesn’t escape Logan’s notice. His stomach drops.

“But?” Logan prompts, bracing himself.

James sighs. “But we’ve decided to go in a different direction for next season. We’ll be announcing tomorrow that we’re signing Carlos Sainz.”

The words hit Logan like a physical blow. He knew his seat wasn’t secure, but hearing it confirmed ... it’s devastating.

“I-I see,” Logan manages, his voice barely above a whisper.

Toto leans forward, his piercing gaze fixed on Logan. “This is where I come in, Logan. We’ve been watching your progress closely, and while Williams may not have a race seat for you next year, we see potential in you.”

Logan’s brow furrows. “What do you mean?”

“Mercedes and Williams would like to offer you a position as a reserve driver for next season,” Toto explains. “It would give you the opportunity to stay involved in F1, continue your development, and potentially step in if needed.”

Logan’s mind races. It’s not a race seat, but it’s something. A lifeline in a sport that can be ruthlessly unforgiving.

“I ... I don’t know what to say,” Logan admits, his voice shaky.

James leans in, his expression softening. “Logan, I know this isn’t the news you wanted to hear. But this could be a great opportunity for you. You’d be working with one of the top teams in the sport.”

Logan nods slowly, trying to process everything. “Can I ask ... why? Why make this decision now?”

James shifts uncomfortably. “It’s a combination of factors. Carlos became available, and with his experience ...”

“You think he can bring more to the team,” Logan finishes, a hint of bitterness creeping into his voice.

“Logan,” Toto interjects, his tone firm but not unkind. “This sport is brutal, we all know that. But it’s also about timing and opportunities. This reserve role could set you up for future success.”

Logan takes a deep breath, trying to steady himself. “And if I say no? If I want to pursue other options?”

James and Toto exchange another glance. “That’s your prerogative,” James says carefully. “But I would strongly advise you to consider this offer. It’s not often a driver gets this kind of opportunity with a team like Mercedes.”

Logan nods, his mind whirling. “How long do I have to decide?”

“We’d need an answer by the end of the week,” Toto replies. “We understand this is a big decision, but we also need to move forward with our plans.”

Logan stands up, suddenly feeling claustrophobic in the small room. “I ... I need some time to think about this. Is that okay?”

James nods, standing as well. “Of course, Logan. Take the time you need. But please, keep this conversation confidential until the announcement on Monday.”

Logan nods numbly, turning towards the door. As he reaches for the handle, Toto’s voice stops him.

“Logan,” the Mercedes boss says, his tone softer than before. “I know this feels like a setback. But sometimes, a step back can lead to two steps forward. Don’t lose faith in yourself.”

Logan meets Toto’s gaze, seeing a mix of sympathy and determination in the older man’s eyes. He manages a weak smile. “Thank you, Mr. Wolff. I’ll ... I’ll be in touch.”

As Logan steps out of the room, the hectic sounds of the paddock wash over him. And not for the first time in his F1 career, he feels completely lost in the familiar chaos.

***

Logan sits alone at a table in the Mercedes cafeteria, pushing his food around his plate. It’s his first day as a reserve driver, and the reality of his situation is sinking in. The familiar faces he’d grown accustomed to at Williams are replaced by a sea of strangers, all wearing the unmistakable Mercedes black and silver.

He takes a halfhearted bite of his chicken, lost in thought. The clink of a tray beside him startles him out of his reverie.

“Mind if I join you?” A cheerful voice asks.

Logan looks up to see a young woman with a bright smile sliding into the seat across from him. Her eyes sparkle with warmth and curiosity.

“Uh, sure,” Logan manages, caught off guard by the unexpected company.

You beam at him, extending a hand. “I’m Y/N. You must be Logan, right? The new reserve driver?”

Logan nods, shaking your hand. “That’s me. Nice to meet you.”

“So, how’s your first day going?” You ask, digging into your own lunch with enthusiasm.

Logan shrugs, trying to muster up some positivity. “It’s ... different. Still trying to find my bearings, I guess.”

You nod sympathetically. “I can imagine. It must be a big change from Williams. But hey, everyone here is pretty friendly once you get to know them. Give it time.”

Logan finds himself relaxing a bit in the face of your easy-going demeanor. “Thanks. I appreciate that. So, uh, what do you do here?”

You laugh, a melodious sound that draws a few glances from nearby tables. “Oh, a bit of everything, really. I like to keep busy. But tell me more about you! How are you finding Brackley compared to Grove?”

Logan blinks, surprised by your genuine interest. “It’s ... bigger, for sure. More advanced facilities. It’s a bit overwhelming, to be honest.”

You lean in, lowering your voice conspiratorially. “Want to know a secret? It can be overwhelming for all of us sometimes. But that’s what makes it exciting, right?”

A small smile tugs at Logan’s lips. “I guess you’re right. It’s just ... I keep thinking about what could have been, you know? If I’d kept my race seat ...”

Your expression softens. “I get it. It’s tough to feel like you’re taking a step back. But sometimes, that step back gives you the perspective you need to leap forward.”

Logan raises an eyebrow. “You sound like To- I mean, Mr. Wolff.”

You grin mischievously. “Well, great minds think alike, I suppose. But seriously, Logan, try to see this as an opportunity. You’re working with one of the best teams in F1. There’s so much you can learn here.”

Logan nods slowly, your enthusiasm starting to rub off on him. “You’re right. I should be grateful for this chance. It’s just hard not to feel a bit ... lost, I guess.”

“That’s totally normal,” you assure him. “But you know what? I have a feeling you’re going to fit in just fine here. You’ve got that spark, Logan. I can see it.”

Logan feels a warmth spreading through his chest at your words. “Thanks, Y/N. That ... that means a lot.”

You wave off his gratitude with a smile. “Hey, newbies have to stick together, right?”

Logan tilts his head, confused. “Newbies? How long have you been here?”

You laugh again, and Logan finds himself thinking it’s a sound he could get used to. “Oh, I’ve been around forever. But I still feel new sometimes. This place is always evolving, always pushing forward. It keeps you on your toes.”

Logan nods, understanding dawning. “I can see that. It’s a bit intimidating, actually. Everyone here seems so ... focused. Driven.”

“That’s the Mercedes way,” you agree. “But don’t let it psych you out. We’re all human here. Well, except for the cars, of course.”

Logan chuckles, surprising himself. It’s the first time he’s laughed since ... well, since that meeting with James and Toto.

“So,” you continue, leaning forward with interest, “tell me about your journey. How did you end up in F1?”

Logan hesitates for a moment, then finds himself opening up. He tells you about his early days in karting, the move to Europe, the struggles and triumphs in the junior categories. You listen intently, asking thoughtful questions and offering encouragement.

“... and then Williams gave me my shot,” Logan concludes. “It was a dream come true, you know? But now ...”

You reach across the table, giving his hand a quick squeeze. “Hey, your F1 journey isn’t over. It’s just taking a different path. And who knows? This could lead to even better things.”

Logan feels a flutter in his chest at your touch, quickly pushing the feeling aside. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” you say with conviction. “You’ve got talent. Anyone can see that. And now you’ve got the backing of Mercedes. That’s a powerful combination.”

Logan finds himself smiling, your optimism infectious. “Thanks, Y/N. I ... I really needed to hear that today.”

You wink at him. “Anytime. That’s what friends are for, right?”

“Friends?” Logan echoes, surprised but pleased.

“Of course!” you exclaim. “Unless you’d rather keep eating lunch alone?”

Logan shakes his head quickly. “No, no. Friends sounds good. Great, actually.”

You beam at him. “Excellent. Now, let me give you the inside scoop on the best coffee spots around here. Trust me, you’re going to need it.”

As you launch into a detailed description of the various cafes and their specialties, Logan finds himself relaxing fully for the first time since arriving at Mercedes. Your easy banter and genuine interest make him feel welcome, like he might actually belong here after all.

“... and whatever you do, avoid the vending machine on the third floor,” you’re saying. “It ate my money twice last week, and-”

“Y/N,” a familiar voice interrupts.

Logan looks up to see Toto Wolff standing beside their table, his imposing figure casting a shadow. Logan immediately straightens, suddenly very aware of his posture.

“Oh, hi Vati!” You say brightly.

Logan’s brain short-circuits. Vati? His eyes dart between you and Toto, noticing for the first time the similarities in your features.

Toto smiles warmly at you, then drops a kiss on top of your head. “I see you’re making our new reserve driver feel welcome.”

You grin up at your father. “Of course! Someone has to show him the ropes around here.”

Toto nods approvingly, then turns to Logan. “I hope my daughter isn’t talking your ear off. She can be quite enthusiastic.”

Logan, still reeling from the revelation, manages to stammer out, “N-no, sir. She’s been very helpful.”

“Good,” Toto says. “Y/N, don’t forget about the meeting at three. Logan, keep up the good work. I look forward to seeing what you can do in the simulator next week.”

With that, Toto strides away, leaving Logan staring at you in shock.

You quirk an eyebrow at him. “You okay there, Logan? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Logan tries to speak, fails, then tries again. “You ... you’re Toto Wolff’s daughter?”

You nod, amusement dancing in your eyes. “Yep. Did I forget to mention that?”

Logan feels his face heating up. “I-I had no idea. I thought you were in PR or something.”

You burst out laughing. “PR? Oh, that’s a good one. No, I’m more of a behind-the-scenes type. Strategy, data analysis, that sort of thing.”

Logan’s mind is reeling. He’s been sitting here, pouring his heart out to his boss’s daughter. The boss’s daughter who is smart, funny, and undeniably attractive. The boss’s daughter who he might have been developing a tiny crush on.

“I’m sorry,” Logan says, mortified. “If I’d known, I wouldn’t have-”

You cut him off with a wave of your hand. “Logan, relax. I’m still the same person I was five minutes ago. The only thing that’s changed is that now you know I have an overprotective dad who happens to run the team.”

Logan swallows hard. “Right. No pressure or anything.”

You lean in, your eyes twinkling with mischief. “Hey, look on the bright side. Now you’ve got an inside track to the big boss. Just don’t ask me to put in a good word for you. I have a strict no nepotism policy.”

Despite his embarrassment, Logan finds himself chuckling. “Noted. I’ll just have to impress him on my own merits, then.”

“That’s the spirit,” you say, raising your water bottle in a mock toast. “To new beginnings and unexpected friendships.”

Logan clinks his own bottle against yours, a smile spreading across his face despite his lingering shock. “To new beginnings,” he echoes.

As you launch back into conversation, Logan can’t help but think that his time at Mercedes might be more interesting than he’d anticipated. And maybe, just maybe, this step back might lead to something amazing after all.

***

Logan leans against the table, his eyes fixed on the monitors displaying George Russell’s lap times. The Australian sun beats down on the Albert Park circuit, but inside the Mercedes garage, the atmosphere is tense with concentration as pre-season testing commences.

“Looking good, George,” Marcus Dudley, his race engineer, says into the radio. “Let’s push for one more flying lap before we bring you in.”

Logan nods to himself, impressed by George’s consistency. He’s about to turn to grab a water bottle when a collective gasp from the crew draws his attention back to the screens.

George’s car is spinning, kicking up dust and gravel as it careens towards the barrier. The sickening crunch of carbon fiber meeting concrete echoes through the speakers.

“George, are you okay?” Marcus calls urgently. “George, do you copy?”

Silence.

Logan’s heart races as he watches the still car, willing George to respond. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you rushing past, your face pale with worry.

“Carmen,” you call out, spotting George’s girlfriend near the back of the garage. You reach her just as her knees seem to give out, catching her before she falls.

Logan wants to help, but he knows his place. He turns back to the screens, straining to hear any news.

Marcus tries again, his voice tight with concern. “George, if you can hear me, give us any sign. Tap the radio, move your hand, anything.”

Still nothing.

The garage erupts into controlled chaos. Toto strides in, his face a mask of worry. “What happened?” He demands.

“Lost the rear in turn 11,” one of the engineers reports. “Looks like a suspension failure, but we won’t know for sure until we get the car back.”

Toto nods grimly. “And George?”

Marcus shakes his head. “No response on the radio.”

Logan watches as the medical car speeds towards the crash site. He catches snippets of radio chatter from the marshals.

“Driver non-responsive ... possible head trauma ... prepare for extraction ...”

The words send a chill down Logan’s spine. This is the dark side of the sport they all love, the ever-present danger that lurks behind every high-speed corner.

You appear at Logan’s side, your face etched with worry. “Any news?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Logan shakes his head. “Nothing yet. They’re working on getting him out now.”

You nod, biting your lower lip. “Carmen ... she’s not doing well. I’ve got Aleix with her now.”

Logan glances over to where Carmen sits, hunched over, the arm of George’s performance coach around her shoulders. The sight makes his chest tighten.

“This is my fault,” you murmur.

Logan turns to you, surprised. “What? How could this possibly be your fault?”

You run a hand through your hair, frustration evident in every movement. “I was the one who pushed for the new suspension design. If I had just stuck with the old one ...”

“Hey,” Logan says firmly, placing a hand on your shoulder. “You can’t think like that. We all know the risks. George knows the risks. This isn’t on you.”

You give him a weak smile, gratitude flashing in your eyes. “Thanks, Logan. I just ... I can’t help but feel responsible.”

Before Logan can respond, a flurry of activity on the screens catches their attention. The medical team has successfully extracted George from the car.

“He’s out,” Marcus announces, his relief palpable. “Still unconscious, but he’s breathing on his own.”

A collective sigh of relief ripples through the garage. Carmen lets out a sob, burying her face in Aleix’s shoulder.

Toto approaches you and Logan, his face grim but composed. “They’re airlifting him to the hospital for full scans. Y/N, I need you to go with Carmen. Logan, I want you suited up and ready. If George can’t drive ...”

The implication hangs in the air. Logan nods, his throat suddenly dry. “Yes, sir. I’ll be ready.”

As Toto moves away to handle the press, you turn to Logan. “Are you okay?” You ask, concern evident in your voice.

Logan takes a deep breath. “Yeah, I think so. It’s just ... this isn’t how I wanted my chance to come.”

You squeeze his arm gently. “I know. But George would want you to do your best. That’s all any of us can do right now.”

Logan nods, trying to steel himself for what might come next. “You’re right. Go take care of Carmen. I’ll ... I’ll be here if you need me.”

You give him a grateful smile before hurrying off to Carmen’s side. Logan watches as you gently lead her out of the garage, whispering words of comfort.

The next few minutes pass in a blur. Logan finds himself going through the motions of preparation, all while keeping an ear out for any news about George. The garage is unnaturally quiet, the usual banter and joking replaced by tense whispers and worried glances.

Finally, Marcus approaches Logan, his face drawn with fatigue. “They’re loading George into the chopper now. Toto wants you on standby, but we won’t make any decisions until we hear from the medical team.”

Logan nods, his stomach churning with a mix of concern for George and nervous anticipation. “Understood. How ... how does he look?”

Marcus sighs, rubbing his eyes. “Still unconscious, but stable. They’re optimistic, but they won’t know more until they run some tests at the hospital.”

As if on cue, the distant thrum of helicopter blades fills the air. Logan steps out of the garage, shielding his eyes against the sun as he watches the medical helicopter rise into the sky, carrying George away.

You appear beside him, your eyes red-rimmed but dry. “Carmen’s gone with him,” you say softly. “Vati arranged for a car to take her to the hospital.”

Logan nods, not taking his eyes off the retreating helicopter. “This is the part of the job we try not to think about, isn’t it?”

You lean against him slightly, seeking comfort. “Yeah. It’s easy to forget sometimes, when everything’s going well. But days like today ... they remind us of the reality.”

Logan wraps an arm around your shoulders, offering what support he can. “George is tough. He’ll pull through this.”

You nod against his shoulder. “I hope so. God, I hope so.”

As the helicopter disappears from view, Logan feels the weight of the moment settle over him. The exhilaration of potentially getting his chance to drive is tempered by the circumstances that might make it possible.

“Come on,” he says gently, guiding you back towards the garage. “Let’s get back inside. There’s work to be done, and George would kick our butts if he knew we were standing around moping.”

You manage a weak chuckle. “You’re right. He’d probably tell us to get back to optimizing the aero package or something.”

As they walk back into the garage, Logan can’t help but feel the shift in the atmosphere. The team moves with renewed purpose, channeling their worry into productivity.

Toto approaches them, his face set in determined lines. “Logan, I need you in the simulator within the hour. If George can’t drive, we need you ready to step in at a moment’s notice.”

Logan straightens, feeling the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders. “Yes, sir. I won’t let the team down.”

Toto nods approvingly. “I know you won’t. Y/N, I need you to liaise with the medical team. Keep me updated on George’s condition.”

You nod, already pulling out your phone. “On it, Vati.”

As Toto moves away, Logan turns to you. “Hey,” he says softly, “we’ve got this, okay? Whatever happens, we’ll handle it.”

You give him a grateful smile. “Thanks, Logan. I ... I’m glad you’re here.”

Logan feels a warmth spread through his chest at your words. “Me too,” he says. “Now, let’s show everyone what Mercedes is made of.”

***

Logan’s heart pounds as he approaches Toto’s office. The events of the past twenty-four hours have left him in a state of emotional whiplash, torn between concern for George and the possibility of his own opportunity.

He knocks on the door, hearing Toto’s muffled “Come in.” Taking a deep breath, Logan enters.

Toto looks up from his desk, his face etched with fatigue. “Logan, thank you for coming. Please, sit down.”

Logan sinks into the chair across from Toto, his mouth suddenly dry. “How ... how’s George?” He manages to ask.

Toto sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “Not good, I’m afraid. The doctors have completed their initial assessments. George has suffered multiple injuries — a concussion, fractured ribs, and a broken collarbone. The most concerning is a compound fracture in his left leg.”

Logan winces, imagining the pain George must be in. “That sounds serious.”

“It is,” Toto confirms. “The medical team estimates his recovery will take around nine months. Which brings me to why I’ve called you here.”

Logan’s pulse quickens, a mix of anticipation and guilt churning in his stomach.

Toto leans forward, his gaze intense. “We need you to step up, Logan. The team needs you to drive full-time for the entire season.”

Despite having suspected this might be coming, hearing the words out loud leaves Logan momentarily speechless.

“I ... of course, sir,” he finally manages. “I’ll do whatever the team needs.”

Toto nods, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. “I know this isn’t how you wanted your chance to come. But I believe you’re ready for this. George believes it too.”

Logan’s head snaps up. “You’ve spoken to George?”

“Briefly,” Toto confirms. “He’s still groggy from the pain medication, but he was clear on one thing — he wants you in that car.”

A lump forms in Logan’s throat. “I ... I don’t know what to say.”

Toto stands, coming around the desk to place a hand on Logan’s shoulder. “You don’t need to say anything. Just drive, Logan. Show us what you’re capable of.”

Logan nods, standing as well. “I won’t let you down, sir. Or George.”

As he turns to leave, Toto’s voice stops him. “Logan? Remember, this is your chance. Don’t waste it feeling guilty. George wouldn’t want that.”

Logan manages a weak smile. “I’ll try to remember that. Thank you, Toto.”

Stepping out of Toto’s office, Logan feels as though he’s in a daze. This is what he’s been working towards his entire career — a full-time drive with a top team. So why does it feel so complicated?

Instead of heading to the cafeteria or his driver’s room, Logan finds himself walking towards the simulator. He nods at the technician on duty, who looks surprised to see him.

“Logan? We weren’t expecting you today ...”

“I know,” Logan says, already reaching for his racing gloves. “But I need to be in there. Can you set up a long run in Melbourne?”

The technician hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Of course. Just ... don’t overdo it, okay?”

Logan manages a tight smile. “I’ll be fine. Thanks.”

As he settles into the simulator, Logan feels a sense of calm wash over him. Here, in this imitation of a race car, things make sense. There’s no guilt, no complicated emotions — just him, the track, and the pursuit of speed.

Hours pass in a blur of virtual laps and telemetry data. Logan pushes himself harder with each run, shaving off tenths of a second here and there. He’s so focused that he doesn’t hear the door open behind him.

“You know, I’m pretty sure there are labor laws against working this hard,” your voice cuts through his concentration.

Logan startles, nearly losing control of the virtual car. He quickly ends the simulation and turns to face you, sheepishly running a hand through his sweat-dampened hair.

“Y/N, I didn’t hear you come in.”

You raise an eyebrow, holding up a small box. “Clearly. I’ve been standing here for five minutes, watching you try to bend the laws of physics.”

Logan manages a weak chuckle. “Just trying to get up to speed. What’s in the box?”

You grin, opening it to reveal a single cupcake with rainbow sprinkles. “A little celebration. Vati told me about your promotion.”

The sight of the cupcake makes Logan’s stomach twist uncomfortably. “I ... I don’t really feel like celebrating.”

Your smile fades, replaced by a look of understanding. “I get it. But Logan, running yourself ragged in here won’t help anyone. Least of all George.”

Logan sighs, slumping in the simulator seat. “I know. It’s just ... this isn’t how I wanted it to happen. George is hurt and I’m benefiting from it. It feels wrong.”

You set the cupcake down and perch on the edge of the simulator, your eyes soft with sympathy. “Logan, listen to me. What happened to George is terrible, but it’s not your fault. And taking this opportunity doesn’t make you a bad person.”

“Doesn’t it, though?” Logan asks, his voice barely above a whisper. “I should be devastated that my teammate is hurt, not ... not excited about getting my chance.”

You reach out, placing a hand on his arm. “Who says you can’t be both? You can be worried about George and excited about your opportunity. They’re not mutually exclusive.”

Logan looks up at you, seeing the sincerity in your eyes. “I just ... I don’t want people to think I’m taking advantage of the situation.”

You shake your head firmly. “Anyone who knows you would never think that. And you know what? George wouldn’t want you feeling this way. He’d want you to grab this chance with both hands and show everyone what you can do.”

Logan manages a small smile. “You sound pretty sure about that.”

“That’s because I am,” you say, squeezing his arm gently. “I talked to George earlier. You know what he said? He said, and I quote, ‘Tell that American idiot to stop moping and start driving. I didn’t crash just for him to waste this chance.’”

A surprised laugh escapes Logan. “He really said that?”

You grin. “Well, maybe I paraphrased a bit. The pain meds make him a little ... colorful. But the sentiment is there.”

Logan shakes his head, feeling some of the weight lift from his shoulders. “George Russell, giving pep talks from his hospital bed. Why am I not surprised?”

“Because you know him,” you say simply. “And you know he’s right. Logan, this is your moment. Don’t let guilt or fear hold you back.”

Logan takes a deep breath, nodding slowly. “You’re right. Both of you. I just ... I needed to hear it, I guess.”

You smile, reaching for the cupcake. “That’s what friends are for. Now, are you going to help me eat this or do I have to force-feed you?”

Logan chuckles, accepting the cupcake. “I wouldn’t dream of making you eat alone.”

As the two of you share the small treat, Logan feels something shift inside him. The guilt doesn’t disappear entirely, but it’s tempered now by determination. George is counting on him, the team is counting on him, and he’s not going to let them down.

“So,” you say, licking frosting off your finger, “what’s next on the agenda, hotshot? More simulator laps?”

Logan shakes his head, a newfound energy coursing through him. “No, I think I’ve done enough of that for today. I was thinking maybe we could go over some of the race strategies? If you’re not too busy, that is.”

Your eyes light up. “Are you kidding? Strategy talk is my favorite kind of talk. But first, you’re going to take a shower and eat a proper meal. Can’t have our driver passing out from exhaustion, can we?”

Logan grins, feeling truly relaxed for the first time since George’s accident. “Yes, ma’am. Whatever you say.”

As you leave the simulator together, Logan feels a surge of gratitude. For George’s support, for the team’s faith in him, and for your friendship. Whatever challenges lie ahead, he knows he won’t face them alone.

“Hey, Y/N?” He says as you walk down the corridor.

“Hmm?”

“Thanks. For everything.”

You bump your shoulder against his, a warm smile on your face. “Anytime, Sargeant. Now, let’s go plot your path to Formula 1 glory. I hear the catering team made lasagna today.”

Logan laughs, matching your stride. The road ahead won’t be easy, but with friends like you by his side, he’s ready to face whatever comes his way.

***

The Australian sun beats down on the Albert Park circuit as Logan sits in his Mercedes, heart pounding in his chest. The familiar pre-race butterflies are amplified tenfold — this isn’t just any race, it’s his debut for Mercedes.

“Okay Logan, how are we feeling?” Marcus Dudley’s voice crackles through the radio.

Logan takes a deep breath. “Ready as I’ll ever be. Let’s do this.”

“That’s what I like to hear. Remember, clean start, manage those tires, and we’ll see where we end up. You’ve got this, kid.”

As the formation lap begins, Logan can’t help but think of George, watching from his hospital bed. This one’s for you, he thinks.

“And we’re off for the formation lap here in Melbourne. All eyes are on Logan Sargeant today, the young American making his Mercedes debut in rather unexpected circumstances.”

“That’s right, Crofty. It’s a big ask, stepping into George Russell’s shoes after that nasty crash in testing. But Toto Wolff clearly sees something in Sargeant, and this is his chance to prove the Mercedes boss right.”

The cars line up on the grid. Logan’s eyes are fixed on the lights. Red ... red ... red ...

“Lights out and away we go!”

Logan reacts instantly, getting a clean start off the line. He holds his position into the first corner, fending off a challenge from behind.

“And it’s a good start for Sargeant, maintaining his fifth place into Turn 1. His rookie teammate Kimi Antonelli has also held position in seventh.”

The first few laps are a blur of intense focus. Logan settles into a rhythm, hitting his marks and managing the gap to the cars ahead and behind.

“Great job, Logan,” Marcus says. “You’re keeping pace with the leaders. Let’s see if we can put some pressure on Norris ahead.”

Logan grits his teeth, pushing harder. He closes the gap to Lando’s McLaren, looking for any opportunity to make a move.

“Sargeant is really impressing here in his Mercedes debut. He’s matching the pace of the frontrunners and is now right on the gearbox of Lando Norris.”

On lap 15, Logan sees his chance. Norris locks up slightly into Turn 3, and Logan pounces, sweeping around the outside to take fourth place.

“Yes!” Logan exclaims, unable to contain his excitement.

“Brilliant move, Logan!” Marcus cheers. “P4 now, let’s keep this up!”

“What a pass from Sargeant! He’s showing no signs of first-race nerves here, making a bold move on the more experienced McLaren driver. The Mercedes pit wall will no doubt be delighted with this performance so far.”

The race continues, with Logan holding his position firmly. He’s in a rhythm now, hitting every apex, managing his tires expertly.

Around the halfway point, things get more challenging. “Logan, we’ve got Verstappen closing in behind. He’s on fresher tires, so don’t take any unnecessary risks,” Marcus warns.

Logan nods to himself, adjusting his focus. He defends hard but fair, making his car as wide as possible on the straights.

“Verstappen is all over the back of Sargeant now. This is a real test for the young American — can he hold off the reigning world champion?”

For several laps, Logan and Max engage in a thrilling battle. Logan uses every trick in his arsenal, positioning his car perfectly to deny Max any opportunity.

“This is exceptional defensive driving from Sargeant. He’s not putting a wheel wrong under immense pressure from Verstappen.”

Finally, on lap 42, Max makes his move, slipping past Logan into Turn 1.

“Verstappen’s through,” Logan reports, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.

“No worries, Logan,” Marcus reassures him. “You did brilliantly to hold him off for so long. We’re still on for a great result here. Keep pushing!”

The final laps of the race are a test of endurance. Logan’s arms ache, his neck strains against the g-forces, but he pushes through the fatigue.

“As we enter the final lap here in Melbourne, Logan Sargeant is holding steady in fifth place. What a debut this has been for the American in the Mercedes!”

Logan crosses the finish line, a mix of exhaustion and elation washing over him. He’s done it — he’s finished his first race for Mercedes.

“And that’s the chequered flag, Logan!” Marcus’ voice comes through, filled with excitement. “P4! Fantastic job, mate!”

Logan blinks in confusion. “P4? But Verstappen passed me ...”

“Leclerc had a late puncture,” Marcus explains. “You moved back up to fourth. I’m completely serious, Logan. You’ve just finished P4 in your first race for us. You should be incredibly proud.”

The reality of his achievement starts to sink in. “I ... wow. Thank you, Marcus. Thank you to everyone on the team. This is ... it’s incredible.”

As Logan does his cool-down lap, waving to the cheering crowds, he feels a surge of emotion. This is what he’s worked for his entire life, and he’s proved he belongs here.

“What a drive from Logan Sargeant! Fourth place in his Mercedes debut. Toto Wolff must be feeling very good about his decision right now.”

“Absolutely, Martin. Sargeant has shown real maturity and pace today. This could be the start of something special for the young American.”

Logan pulls into parc fermé, parking behind the top three cars. As he climbs out, he’s immediately engulfed in a group hug by the Mercedes team.

Toto appears, a broad smile on his face. “Excellent job, Logan. You’ve made us all very proud today.”

“Thank you, sir,” Logan says, still slightly dazed. “I couldn’t have done it without the team’s support.”

As Logan makes his way through the paddock, he’s stopped by various team members and even rival drivers offering congratulations. It’s surreal, but Logan soaks in every moment.

Suddenly, he spots a familiar face pushing through the crowd. You’re beaming, your eyes shining with pride and unshed tears.

“Logan!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “That was amazing! I knew you could do it!”

Logan hugs you back, laughing. “I can hardly believe it myself. P4 ... it’s like a dream.”

You pull back, your hands on his shoulders. “Well, believe it. You earned this, Logan. Every single bit of it.”

As you chat excitedly about the race, Logan’s phone buzzes. He pulls it out to see a message from George.

Not bad for a newbie. Next time aim for the podium 😉 Seriously though, great job. Proud of you.

Logan grins, showing you the message. “Looks like I’ve got my work cut out for me next race.”

You laugh, linking your arm through his. “Oh, I have no doubt you’re up for the challenge. But first, I think this calls for a celebration. Vati is organizing a team dinner. You up for it?”

Logan nods, feeling a warmth spread through his chest that has nothing to do with the Australian heat. “Absolutely. Lead the way!”

As you walk towards the Mercedes hospitality area, Logan can’t help but reflect on the whirlwind of the past few weeks. From reserve driver to P4 in his debut race with the team — it’s more than he could have ever imagined.

“Hey,” you say softly, nudging him. “What are you thinking about?”

Logan smiles, squeezing your arm gently. “Just ... grateful. For this opportunity, for the team’s faith in me, for your support. I couldn’t have done this without you, Y/N.”

You blush slightly, looking pleased. “That’s what friends are for, right? Now come on, American boy. Time to bask in your well-deserved glory.”

As you join the celebrating team, Logan feels a sense of belonging wash over him. This is where he’s meant to be, and he’s ready for whatever challenges and triumphs lie ahead.

***

The Miami sun beats down on the podium as Logan stands there, still in disbelief. The weight of the P2 trophy in his hands feels surreal, a reminder of what he’s just achieved. The roar of the crowd, the spray of champagne, the elation of his first podium finish — it’s almost too much to process.

As he steps down from the podium, sticky with champagne and grinning from ear to ear, Logan is immediately engulfed by the Mercedes team. Hands pat his back, voices offer congratulations, but it all becomes a blur as he spots a familiar figure pushing through the crowd.

You burst through, your eyes shining with pride and excitement. Without hesitation, you throw your arms around him, not caring about the champagne that’s now soaking into your team shirt.

“Logan! Oh my god, you did it!” You exclaim, your voice muffled against his shoulder. “I’m so, so proud of you!”

Logan laughs, wrapping his free arm around you and spinning you both around in a moment of pure joy. “I can hardly believe it myself,” he admits as he sets you down. “It’s like a dream.”

You pull back, your hands on his shoulders, beaming up at him. “Well, believe it, hotshot. P2 in your home race — you’ve earned this!”

Logan feels a warmth spread through his chest that has nothing to do with the Miami heat. “Thanks, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without the team’s support. Without your support.”

You shake your head, still grinning. “Oh no, this was all you out there on the track. But speaking of support ...” Your eyes sparkle mischievously. “We absolutely have to celebrate properly tonight. Miami style!”

Logan raises an eyebrow, amused. “Miami style? Should I be worried?”

You laugh, the sound making Logan’s heart skip a beat. “Only if you’re afraid of having too much fun. Come on, it’s your first podium, in your home race no less! We have to mark the occasion.”

Before Logan can respond, you lean in and press a quick kiss to his cheek. The brief contact sends a jolt through him, leaving him momentarily speechless.

“Promise me you’ll come out with the team tonight,” you say, your eyes locked on his. “No excuses about needing to analyze data or whatever. Tonight, we celebrate!”

Logan nods, still a bit dazed from the kiss. “I ... yeah, of course. I promise.”

You beam at him. “Perfect! I’ll text you the details later. Now, go bask in your well-deserved glory. I think there are about a hundred journalists waiting to talk to Miami’s new hero.”

With a wink, you disappear back into the crowd, leaving Logan standing there, trophy in hand and mind reeling.

The rest of the day passes in a blur of interviews, photographs, and congratulations. Logan goes through the motions, answering questions on autopilot while his mind keeps drifting back to that moment with you.

It didn’t mean anything, he tells himself. You’re European, after all. Cheek kisses are just a normal thing, right? It was just excitement over the podium, nothing more.

But try as he might, Logan can’t shake the memory of your lips on his cheek, the way his heart raced at your touch.

“Earth to Logan,” Marcus’ voice cuts through his thoughts. “You still with us, mate?”

Logan blinks, focusing on his race engineer. “Sorry, what was that?”

Marcus grins knowingly. “I said, great job out there today. You should be proud. But maybe save the daydreaming for after the debrief, yeah?”

Logan feels his cheeks heat up. “Right, sorry. Just ... still processing everything, I guess.”

“I bet,” Marcus chuckles. “First podium’s always special. Even more so on home turf. Now, let’s go over those last few laps ...”

As they dive into the race analysis, Logan tries to focus. But his mind keeps wandering. To the podium. To the celebration to come. To you.

It’s just excitement over the race result, he rationalizes. You’re his boss’s daughter, for crying out loud. And more importantly, you’re his friend. One of his best friends, if he’s honest with himself. He can’t risk messing that up by reading too much into a friendly gesture.

The debrief finally ends, and Logan heads back to his driver’s room to change. As he’s pulling on a fresh team shirt, his phone buzzes with a text from you.

E11EVEN at 10 PM. Wear something nice 😘 Can’t wait to celebrate with you!

Logan stares at the message, his heart doing that annoying skip thing again. It’s just a normal text, he tells himself. Friends celebrate together all the time. The kiss doesn’t mean anything.

Right?

He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts. This is ridiculous. He just achieved his first podium in Formula 1, at his home race no less. He should be on top of the world, not overthinking a simple friendly interaction.

As he leaves the track, Logan is stopped by a group of fans clamoring for autographs and selfies. He obliges with a smile, the excitement of the crowd helping to lift his mood.

“Logan! Logan!” A young boy calls out. “You were amazing today! I want to be just like you when I grow up!”

Logan kneels down to the boy’s level, touched by his enthusiasm. “Thanks, buddy. Just remember, it takes a lot of hard work and dedication. But if you believe in yourself and never give up, you can achieve anything.”

The boy nods solemnly, clutching his newly signed cap to his chest. “I will! I’m going to practice every day!”

As Logan stands, he catches sight of you talking to some team members nearby. You glance over, catching his eye, and give him a warm smile and a thumbs up. Logan feels that now-familiar flutter in his chest and quickly turns back to the fans.

It’s going to be a long night, he thinks to himself.

Back at the hotel, Logan takes his time getting ready for the celebration. He stands in front of the mirror, fussing with his hair and second-guessing his outfit choice. Why is he so nervous? It’s just a team celebration, like dozens he’s been to before.

But it’s not just any celebration, a voice in his head reminds him. It’s his first podium celebration. And you’ll be there.

Logan groans, running a hand through his hair and messing it up again. “Get it together, Sargeant,” he mutters to his reflection. “It’s just a night out with the team. With your friend. Your boss’s daughter. Who you definitely don’t have any non-platonic feelings for.”

Even he doesn’t believe himself.

A knock at the door startles him out of his internal monologue. “Logan? You ready?” Kimi’s voice calls out.

Logan takes a deep breath, giving himself one last look in the mirror. “Yeah, coming!” He calls back.

As he joins Kimi in the hallway, his teammate gives him an appraising look. “Not bad, Sargeant. Trying to impress someone?”

Logan feels his cheeks heat up. “What? No, I just ... wanted to look nice for the celebration.”

Kimi raises an eyebrow, a knowing smirk playing on his lips. “Uh-huh. Sure. Come on, lover boy. Your adoring public awaits.”

As they make their way to the club, Logan tries to calm his nerves. It’s just a normal team celebration, he tells himself. Nothing to be nervous about. You’re just friends. Really good friends who sometimes share cheek kisses and make his heart race with a simple smile.

Oh, who is he kidding? He’s in trouble and he knows it.

The bass from the club is audible from down the street, and as they approach, Logan sees a line stretching around the block. But Kimi leads him straight to the VIP entrance, where they’re immediately ushered inside.

The club is a sensory overload — pulsing music, flashing lights, and the press of bodies on the dance floor. Logan blinks, trying to adjust to the atmosphere. Suddenly, he feels a hand on his arm and turns to see you beaming up at him.

“You made it!” You shout over the music, your eyes sparkling in the club lights. “Come on, everyone’s waiting to toast the man of the hour!”

As you lead him through the crowd, your hand still on his arm, Logan tries to ignore the electricity he feels at your touch. Friends touch all the time, he reminds himself. It doesn’t mean anything.

You reach a VIP section where the rest of the team is gathered. A cheer goes up as they spot Logan, and suddenly he’s being passed around for hugs and backslaps and congratulations.

Toto appears, handing Logan a glass of champagne. “To Logan,” he says, raising his own glass. “For a brilliant drive and Mercedes’ first podium of the season. May it be the first of many!”

The team echoes the toast and Logan takes a sip of the bubbly, feeling a surge of pride and belonging. This is what he’s worked for his entire life and he’s finally made it.

As the celebration continues, Logan finds himself relaxing, caught up in the excitement and camaraderie of the team. He chats with mechanics, engineers, and fellow drivers, reliving the best moments of the race.

But his eyes keep drifting back to you. You’re in your element, moving from group to group, laughing and chatting animatedly. Every now and then, you glance his way, flashing him a smile that makes his heart race.

It’s just the atmosphere, Logan tells himself. The adrenaline from the race, the excitement of the celebration. That’s all it is.

But as the night wears on and the champagne flows freely, Logan finds it harder and harder to maintain that rationalization. Especially when you grab his hand and pull him onto the dance floor, your body moving in perfect rhythm to the pulsing beat.

“Come on!” You shout over the music, grinning up at him. “Show me some of those dance moves!”

Logan laughs, letting himself get caught up in the moment. He may not be the world’s best dancer, but with you smiling at him like that, he feels like he could take on anything.

As you dance, Logan can’t help but notice how perfectly you fit against him, how natural it feels to have his hands on your waist as you move together. It’s just dancing, he reminds himself. Friends dance together all the time.

But when the DJ switches to a slower song and you step closer, wrapping your arms around his neck, Logan knows he’s fighting a losing battle. There’s no denying the way his heart races, the way his skin tingles where you touch him.

As you sway together, Logan finally allows himself to admit the truth he’s been trying to ignore for months. He’s falling for you, hard and fast, and he has no idea what to do about it.

You look up at him, your eyes soft in the dim light of the club. “I’m really proud of you,” you say, your voice barely audible over the music. “You belong here, you know. On the podium, in F1, with m-” you cut yourself off, biting your lip.

Logan’s heart leaps. Were you about to say “with me”? He wants to ask, wants to pull you closer and find out if you feel this connection too.

But before he can say anything, the song ends and the moment is broken. You step back, a slightly flustered look on your face.

“I, uh ... I need a drink,” you say quickly. “Want anything?”

Logan shakes his head, still trying to process what just happened. “No, I’m good. Thanks.”

As you disappear into the crowd, Logan makes his way back to the VIP section, his mind reeling. What was that? Did he imagine the moment between you? And more importantly, what is he going to do about these feelings he can no longer deny?

As he sinks into a plush couch, Logan realizes that his first podium might not be the most significant event of the night after all. Whatever happens next, he knows one thing for certain — his relationship with you will never be the same.

***

The Union Jack flutters in the cool Silverstone breeze as Logan crosses the finish line, his heart pounding in his ears. The chequered flag waves, and suddenly, the reality hits him like a tidal wave.

“Logan, you’ve done it!” Marcus’ voice crackles through the radio, filled with unbridled joy. “P1! Your first Formula 1 win!”

Logan lets out a whoop of excitement, pounding his fist on the steering wheel. “Yes! Oh my god, yes! We did it, guys! Thank you, thank you so much!”

As he starts his cooldown lap, waving to the cheering crowds, Logan can’t help but chuckle at the irony. An American winning the British Grand Prix. He can almost hear the collective groan of disappointment from the British fans who were hoping for a home victory.

“Sorry, folks,” he murmurs to himself, grinning. “The colonists strike again.”

The sea of orange in the grandstands catches his eye — Dutch fans who always come to support Max Verstappen no matter the location. Logan remembers the intense battle he had with the reigning world champion in the closing laps. The memory sends another surge of pride through him. He didn’t just win, he beat the best of the best.

As he rounds the final corner, heading towards parc fermé, Logan’s mind drifts to you. He wonders if you’re watching, if you’re as excited as he is. Ever since that kiss on the cheek in Miami, he’s been unable to get you out of his head. Every smile, every touch, every late-night strategy session has taken on new meaning.

But fear has held him back. Fear of ruining your friendship, fear of making things awkward with the team, fear of misreading the signals. So he’s kept his feelings bottled up, content (or so he tells himself) with your close friendship.

Logan pulls into his spot in parc fermé, bringing the car to a stop. He takes a deep breath, savoring this moment. His first win. It almost doesn’t feel real.

He unclips his harness and stands up in the cockpit, raising his arms in triumph. The roar of the crowd washes over him and he spots his team gathered at the barriers, jumping and cheering.

Without hesitation, Logan clambers out of the car and runs towards them. He leaps over the barrier, immediately engulfed in a sea of jubilant Mercedes personnel. Hands pat his back, voices offer congratulations, but Logan is searching for one face in particular.

Suddenly, the crowd parts, and there you are. Your eyes are shining with pride and something else, something that makes Logan’s heart race even faster than it already is.

Before he can say anything, you stride forward purposefully. Your hands grasp the collar of his race suit, and in one swift motion, you pull him towards you and press your lips firmly against his.

For a split second, Logan is too shocked to react. But then his brain catches up, and he’s kissing you back with every ounce of pent-up emotion he’s been holding back for months.

The world around you fades away — the cheering crowd, the flashing cameras, the excited chatter of the team. All Logan can focus on is the softness of your lips, the warmth of your body pressed against his, the rightness of this moment.

When you finally break apart, both slightly breathless, Logan can’t help but grin. “Wow,” he murmurs, his forehead resting against yours. “That was ...”

“Long overdue,” you finish for him, a matching grin on your face.

Logan chuckles, his arms still wrapped around your waist. “I couldn’t agree more. But, uh ... your dad isn’t going to fire me for this, is he?”

You laugh, the sound music to Logan’s ears. “Please. He’s been trying to set us up for months. I think he’ll be relieved we finally figured it out on our own.”

Before Logan can respond, a throat clears behind them. They turn to see Toto standing there, an amused smirk on his face.

“While I’m thrilled you two have finally sorted yourselves out,” he says dryly, “perhaps we could save the more ... intimate celebrations for after the podium ceremony?”

Logan feels his face heat up, but you just laugh, linking your arm through his. “Sorry, Vati. Got caught up in the moment. Come on, Logan. Time to get you on that top step where you belong.”

As you make your way through the paddock, Logan can’t wipe the grin off his face. Crew members, other drivers, and media personnel offer their congratulations, but it all feels secondary to the warmth of you pressed against his side.

“So,” Logan says as they near the cooldown room, “does this mean you’ll be my date to the celebration tonight?”

You pretend to consider it, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, I don’t know. I might have other plans. I hear there’s this hot new F1 winner in town ...”

Logan laughs, pulling you closer. “Oh yeah? Well, I happen to know him pretty well. I could put in a good word for you.”

You smile up at him, your eyes sparkling with mischief and affection. “I’d appreciate that. But you should know, I’m not really interested in a fling. I’m more of a long-term kind of girl.”

Logan’s heart skips a beat at the implication. “Good,” he says softly. “Because I’m in this for the long haul.”

Your smile softens, and you lean up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. “Glad we’re on the same page. Now go, your adoring public awaits. We’ll continue this discussion later.”

As Logan steps onto the podium not long after, the cheers of the crowd washing over him, he can’t help but think that this — the trophy, the champagne, the adulation — is only the second-best thing to happen to him today.

The ceremony passes in a blur of anthems, champagne sprays, and beaming smiles. Logan clutches his trophy, still hardly believing it’s real. As he steps down from the podium, he’s immediately swarmed by journalists, all clamoring for a quote from F1’s newest race winner.

“Logan! How does it feel to win your first Grand Prix?”

Logan grins, his eyes finding you in the crowd. “It’s incredible. A dream come true. But you know what? I have a feeling this is just the beginning.”

“What do you mean by that?” Another reporter asks.

Logan’s grin widens. “Let’s just say I’m feeling pretty unbeatable right now, both on and off the track.”

You roll your eyes at him from behind the journalists, but your smile gives away your amusement.

As the interviews wind down, Logan finally manages to break away from the press. He makes his way back to you, unable to keep the smile off his face.

“So,” he says, sliding an arm around your waist, “about the team celebration ...”

You lean into him, a mischievous glint in your eye. “Oh, I think we might need to have our own private celebration first. You know, to properly commemorate your first win.”

Logan feels a thrill run through him at your words. “I like the way you think. But, uh ... what about your dad?”

You laugh, linking your fingers with his. “Logan, my dad’s the one who’s been pushing us together for months. Trust me, he’ll be thrilled. Although maybe don’t kiss me like that in front of him again. There are some things a father doesn’t need to see.”

Logan chuckles, squeezing your hand. “Noted. So, what now?”

“Now,” you say, tugging him towards the Mercedes motorhome, “we go change. Then we make a brief appearance at the team celebration. And after that ...” you trail off, your eyes twinkling with promise.

“After that?” Logan prompts, his heart racing with anticipation.

You grin up at him. “After that, we start our own celebration. I think we have a lot of lost time to make up for, don’t you?”

Logan nods, unable to keep the smile off his face. “Absolutely. And hey, I’m a quick learner. I bet I can make up for that lost time in record speed.”

You laugh, the sound making Logan’s heart soar. “Always the racer. But you know what? I think this is one race where taking it slow might be the winning strategy.”

As you make their way through the paddock, hand-in-hand, Logan can’t help but marvel at how much his life has changed in just a few short months. From reserve driver to race winner, from pining in silence to ... whatever this wonderful new thing with you is.

One thing’s for sure — this win will always be special. Not just because it’s his first, but because it’s the day everything finally fell into place. The day he not only conquered the track but also found the courage (with a little help) to follow his heart.

As the two of you reach the Mercedes motorhome, Logan pulls you close for one more quick kiss. “Hey,” he says softly, “just in case I forget to say it later ... thank you. For believing in me, for supporting me, for ... well, for everything.”

You smile up at him, your eyes soft with affection. “Always, Logan. Now come on, race winner. We’ve got a lot to celebrate.”

***

The bright lights of the Tonight Show studio beat down on Logan as he sits across from Jimmy Fallon, trying to keep his nerves in check. It’s his first major American talk show appearance, and he wants to make a good impression.

Jimmy leans forward, a warm smile on his face. “So, Logan, it’s been quite a year for you, hasn’t it? From losing your seat at Williams to winning races with Mercedes. How has your life changed?”

Logan chuckles, running a hand through his hair. “Oh man, Jimmy, where do I even start? It’s been an absolute whirlwind. You know, when I lost that Williams seat, I thought my F1 dream was over. I was devastated.”

Jimmy nods sympathetically. “I can imagine. That must have been tough.”

“It was,” Logan agrees. “But you know what? Looking back now, I can honestly say it was one of the best things that ever happened to me.”

Jimmy raises an eyebrow, intrigued. “Really? How so?”

Logan grins, leaning forward in his chair. “Well, first of all, it led to this incredible opportunity with Mercedes. I mean, going from potentially being out of F1 to driving for one of the top teams? It’s like something out of a movie.”

The audience cheers, and Logan feels a surge of pride. He’s come a long way from that dejected kid in Toto’s office last year.

“But that’s not all,” Logan continues, his smile softening. “Losing that seat also led me to the love of my life.”

A collective “aww” rises from the audience, and Jimmy leans in, clearly sensing a good story. “Tell us more!”

Logan feels his cheeks heat up slightly, but he can’t keep the smile off his face. “Her name is Y/N. She works for Mercedes, and she’s ... she’s amazing. Smart, funny, beautiful. She was the one who really helped me believe in myself when I joined the team.”

Jimmy grins. “Sounds like quite a woman. How did you two get together?”

Logan laughs, remembering that day at Silverstone. “Well, I’d been pining after her for months, too scared to make a move. Then I won my first race at the British Grand Prix, and she just ... grabbed me and kissed me right there in parc fermé. In front of the whole team, the cameras, everyone.”

The audience cheers and whistles, and Jimmy laughs. “Wow! Talk about a victory celebration! So, she made the first move, huh?”

Logan nods, grinning. “Yep. Thank god one of us had the courage. Although I have to say, her dad being my boss made things a little awkward at first.”

Jimmy’s eyes widen. “Wait, what? Her dad is your boss? You mean ...”

“Yep,” Logan confirms, enjoying the host’s reaction. “I’m dating the boss’s daughter. Toto Wolff’s daughter, to be exact.”

The audience gasps and murmurs, and Jimmy leans back in his chair, looking impressed. “Wow. That’s ... that’s quite a story. So, how does Toto feel about all this?”

Logan chuckles. “You know, he’s been surprisingly cool about it. Turns out he’d been trying to set us up for months. I think he was just relieved we finally figured it out on our own.”

Jimmy laughs. “Well, that’s good to hear. No awkward ‘stay away from my daughter’ talks then?”

“Oh, there were talks,” Logan says, his eyes twinkling with amusement. “But they were more along the lines of ‘if you hurt her, I’ll demote you to test driver faster than you can say DRS.’”

The audience laughs, and Jimmy shakes his head in amusement. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the incentive to be on your best behavior!”

Logan nods, his expression softening. “Absolutely. But you know, even without that ... Y/N is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I’d never do anything to mess that up.”

Another “aww” rises from the audience, and Jimmy smiles warmly. “That’s beautiful, Logan. It sounds like things are really falling into place for you.”

“They really are,” Logan agrees. Then, leaning in conspiratorially, he adds, “And you know what? I’ve actually got a little scoop for you, Jimmy. The team’s given me permission to reveal something pretty big.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up and he leans in as well. “Oh? Do tell!”

Logan grins, then stage whispers, loud enough for the audience to hear, “I’ve just signed a contract extension with Mercedes. I’ll be with the team until 2028.”

The audience erupts in cheers, and Jimmy’s jaw drops. “What? Logan, that’s incredible! Congratulations!”

Logan beams, feeling a surge of pride and excitement. “Thanks, Jimmy. I still can’t quite believe it myself. Three more years with one of the top teams in F1 ... it’s a dream come true.”

Jimmy shakes his head in amazement. “Wow. From losing your Williams seat to a long-term contract with Mercedes. That’s quite the turnaround.”

“It really is,” Logan agrees. “And you know what? I owe a lot of it to Y/N. She’s been my biggest supporter, my rock through all of this. I don’t think I could have done it without her.”

Jimmy smiles warmly. “It sounds like you two make quite the team. Is she here tonight?”

Logan nods, glancing towards the audience. “She is, actually. She’s sitting right over there.”

The camera pans to where you’re sitting, and you give a shy wave as the audience applauds. Logan feels his heart swell with affection at the sight of you.

Jimmy turns back to Logan, a mischievous glint in his eye. “So, Logan, now that you’ve got this long-term contract sorted out ... any other long-term plans in the works? Maybe involving a certain boss’s daughter?”

Logan feels his cheeks heat up, but he can’t help the smile that spreads across his face. “Well, Jimmy, let’s just say that when you find the right person, you want to hold onto them for as long as possible. But for now, we’re just enjoying the ride.”

Jimmy nods approvingly. “Well, it sounds like you’ve got a lot to celebrate. Speaking of which, I hear you’ve brought something special to share with us tonight?”

Logan grins, reaching behind his chair to pull out a bottle of champagne. “That’s right. This is the same type of champagne we used for my first win at Silverstone. I thought we could recreate a little podium celebration right here on the show.”

Jimmy’s eyes light up with excitement. “Oh, this is going to be fun! But wait, don’t you usually spray this stuff around?”

Logan laughs, standing up. “We sure do. Hope you don’t mind getting a little wet!”

As Logan shakes the bottle and pops the cork, spraying champagne all over a laughing Jimmy and the cheering audience, he can’t help but marvel at how far he’s come. From the depths of disappointment to the heights of success, both on and off the track.

After the champagne settles and they’re both wiping their faces, Jimmy turns to Logan with a grin. “Alright, Logan, before we let you go, I’ve got one more question for you. What’s next? You’ve got the dream job, the dream girl ... what more could Logan Sargeant possibly want?”

Logan pauses for a moment, considering. “You know, a year ago I would have said winning the World Championship was the ultimate goal. And don’t get me wrong, that’s still very much on my radar. But now ... now I think my goal is just to keep living this dream for as long as I can. To keep pushing myself on the track, to keep growing and learning, and to keep building a life with Y/N.”

He glances over at you in the audience, his eyes softening. “Because at the end of the day, all the trophies and champagne in the world don’t mean much if you don’t have someone to share them with.”

The audience “awws” once more, and Jimmy nods approvingly. “Well said, Logan. I think that’s a perfect note to end on. Ladies and gentlemen, Logan Sargeant!”

As the audience applauds and the show cuts to commercial, Logan makes his way off the stage, his heart full. He finds you waiting for him in the wings, a proud smile on your face.

“You were amazing out there,” you say, wrapping your arms around him.

Logan hugs you back, breathing in the familiar scent of your perfume. “Thanks. I hope I didn’t embarrass you too much with all that mushy stuff.”

You laugh, pulling back to look at him. “Are you kidding? I loved every second of it. Although I have to say, that champagne spray was a bit much. You do realize you’re not actually on a podium, right?”

Logan grins sheepishly. “Sorry, force of habit. But hey, at least I didn’t kiss you in front of millions of viewers. That’s progress, right?”

You roll your eyes fondly. “My hero. Come on, liebling. Let’s go celebrate your big reveal properly.”

As you walk hand-in-hand towards the exit, Logan feels a sense of contentment wash over him. It’s been one hell of a journey, but with you by his side and a bright future ahead, he knows the best is yet to come.

And as you step out into the New York night, Logan can’t help but think that this — the glamor, the success, the adoration — is nothing compared to the simple joy of having you by his side.

Because in the end, it’s not about the trophies or the champagne. It’s about the journey and the people you share it with.

For Logan Sargeant, former underdog turned rising star, the real victory isn’t just on the track. It’s in the love he’s found, the dreams he’s achieving, and the future he’s building — one lap at a time.

[allkindfangirl]

love at detours I lewis hamilton

pairing: lewis hamilton x reader warnings: none summary: in which he had promise himself not to fall but even he can't help it

"This can't be happening." His head was falling into his hands as he sat on the bed across from the young woman. Her hands were shaking, not knowing how to control her feelings after telling him that she fell in love with him.

She was devastated and wished she had never told him. It was clear for her, that she had destroyed everything there was, everything she had with him. Right now, regretting the words that came from her mouth, she would rather continue whatever it had been, than not having him at all.

"I'm sorry.", she said, almost whispering. He looked up at her, his dark brown eyes focusing on her but his gaze was hard. Completely different from what she was used to from him.

"I told you from the beginning this couldn't happen." His words were harsh.

They had known each other for years now, after meeting at an event that she had attendet with her parents and her parents friends, Toto and Susie Wolff. Toto had been the one introducing her to Lewis and after that, she went to visit his races whenever she could.

Of course, Lewis Hamilton was incredibly attractive. She could not deny that his presence did something to her, but never in a million years she would've thought he would think the same about her.

But from the beginning they made an agreement that they wouldn’t be anything serious. They hung out, they spend time together and got close to each other, but always knew that it wouldn’t be anything else than being physical and liking hanging out with each other. It was a typical friendship with benefits and through all the time it had been going on, it had always been easy and fun.

He had been really clear about it, telling her how he wanted to focus on his career and not wanting a serious relationship. She knew she liked him from the beginning, being in awe of this man, his presence and the way he seemed so strong but was so gentle at the same time. But she never thought she would actually fall for him.

It frightened her, the first time she felt it. It was butterflies in her stomach, the longing of being in his arms. The longing of him saying that she was his only one and that he wanted to be with her forever.

She knew it had been the right thing to tell him. Not telling him wouldn't be fair to him since they both had an agreement.

"It's okay if you don't want to see me again. I know I ruined it."

His eyes were still laying on her. The beautiful woman in front of him that drove him crazy. She drove him crazy whenever she touched him. She drove him crazy whenever she wasn't in reach and he couldn't stop thinking about her.

He didn't want to see her again. He knew he had to cut her loose before it was too late, before he would fall head over heels for her too. He couldn't give in. He had promised himself to not let anything or anyone else take all his focus. His career, the sport that he loved so much was his whole life. He didn't want to be distracted and he knew that she would be on his mind all the time, if he let her fully in.

She saw it in his face, he didn't even had to tell her. This was over the second those words had left her lips.

They didn't see each other for over a year. It was hard for her not to fall into the deep end. Of course she was still interested in how he was doing, how his racing was going but seeing him on the tv and knowing she once had him and lost him, broke her. Her heart still beat faster whenever she overheard his name, whenever she saw a picture of him.

It was difficult for him too. Even though he could just find someone else to have fun with, he knew it wouldn't be the same. She hadn't just been someone to him. She had been special. He had let her see Lewis, not Lewis Hamilton. She knew him so well, his good side, his bad side and he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so comfortable with someone.

It was inevitable not to see each other again though. It was Totos birthday where she found herself in her favorite dress, heart pounding as she watched Lewis walk into the house. The champagne in her body did help a bit to calm her nerves. He looked good as ever. A black blazer hanging over his shoulders, paired with some trousers and shoes. His braids were tied in the back.

She watched him greeting everyone, saying hello to Toto and Susie when all of a sudden Toto turned around and pointed at her. It felt like her heart would stop the second Lewis eyes met hers. A smile started forming on his lips as he gave Toto a pat on the back and made his way over to the woman he had secretly missed so much.

"I hoped I would see you here.", he said, giving her a hug. She was surprised about his change of heart but figured he had been over the situation and had moved on.

The night went on with them chatting for a while until he was grabbed and pulled into another corner of the house to meet some people.

She didn't know what to feel. She was happy she saw him again. On the other side she knew it only brought up feelings she had tried to avoid so much. And though she was happy to see that he was fine and was willing to talk to her again, she knew now that it hadn't been hard for him to make peace with the past.

It was around 1am when she finally said goodbye to Toto and Susie, collected her things and made her way outside the house. Her parents lived close by, so she would just spend the night at theirs.

"Y/n.", she heard his voice though the night. Her heart felt warm as she saw him walking towards her, breath heavy from running to catch her before she was gone.

"You just wanted to leave without saying goodbye?" He chuckled as he walked towards her. His eyes gazed over her. He longed touching her soft skin. Her skin, that he had touched a thousand times before, but it was different this time. His heart ached by the thought of how close they had been once, physically and psychically.

"I didn't tell you the truth." Lewis had always been a more rational type, but in this moment he broke his patterns. This wasn't rational. He figured he couldn't think clear but maybe that was the effect she had on him.

She frowned, not having a single clue about what he was saying. "What do you mean?", she asked, replaying every conversation they had this evening in her head.

Lewis was close. If she wanted, she could just lean in and touch him. He looked down, cleared his throat. As he looked up again and locked eyes his hers, his eyes were soft.

"I didn't tell you the truth back then. I didn't not wanted to see you again. In fact, it killed me not seeing you for this long." He smiled, more to himself, thinking about what joy he had felt the second he saw her standing in the same room as him again.

"I- I missed you. And I know now that this wasn't just-."

It was the first time she saw him like this, mumbling, looking for the right words. Her heart started pounding again and she tried not to get her hopes up too high, just in case he would crushed her feelings again.

"I want to be with you y/n. I mean it. I want to have you by my side, in my life. Not just for the nights- I guess what I'm trying to say is-"

He was afraid of saying it. Lewis Hamilton was afraid.

"I fell for you too."

She knew she could start arguing with him about why he didn't tell her right away, why he hadn't reached out, why he had pushed her away. But she had never felt such happiness in her body and it overtook her. She rolled her eyes, couldn't hide the smile on her face that was now followed by his smile.

"You're an idiot.", she whispered as she stepped closer to him. His hands found her hips as he pressed his body against her. A feeling they both knew so well but they knew this was something new.

He kissed her. His lips being so perfectly on hers. Tongues playing with each other. They were both out of breath, wanting more, longing for more and they both knew that this was just the beginning.

-

hope you like it! requests for lewis are open.

my masterlist

[f1tyreslightmyfyre]

Y'all are so sweet for all the love on the professor!AU Toto x Christian fic idea - thank you, it really means a lot ☺️❤️

I have been working on it! And with this recent Christian post by @christianspinkyring - just, ughh - Christian in his navy velvet tuxedo jacket with this tuxedoed Toto at the end of term gala for the School of Business donors, sponsors, and award-recipient students is just too good to let go of... so here's some snippets!

[ ... ]

The door to Christian’s office opened without preamble. His brow knit with displeasure – even Max knew to always knock if the door was closed – and he glanced up from his laptop through his horn-rimmed glasses.

A brilliant smile split Dean Stefano Domenicali's face as he entered and brandished a bottle of champagne. “Congratulations, Christian. Your leadership of this department has always been exemplary, and your return ranking as the school’s number one department is long overdue.”

Christian leaned back in his seat, failing to hide the smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Thank you, that… are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

Stefano’s smile turned sly as he worked the cork cage loose. “The term results are in, and the metrics for the Department of Management and Leadership Studies have given you the highest rating.” The cork popped softly under the dean’s skilled hand before he held the bottle out towards Christian. “Well, don’t just sit there,” he chastised lightly. “You should be celebrating.”

Christian bit off a chuckle as he rose to his feet, sliding his glasses off – thankfully he wasn't that old yet. “Thank you, Stefano.” He held out a hand to accept the gently fizzing bottle. “It’s always an honor.” Raising it to his lips, he took a sip and savored the bubbles that burst against his tongue. He hummed his approval. “Thank you, indeed. It’s been a long seven years since I last sampled your champagne selection.”

Stefano’s face turned carefully neutral. “The challenge has been the same every year. And don’t forget that you topped the rankings for four years running before Toto arrived.”

Christian’s throat tightened around another swallow of champagne even as his smile widened. “That’s why it’s even more satisfying to dethrone him now.”

Stefano didn’t quite roll his eyes – he was too professional for that. “Just keep the dramatics in next term's weekly meetings to a minimum, please.”

The door to the men’s washroom opens on a whispering hinge, distracting Christian from the memory and drawing his gaze. An involuntary smirk lifts the corner of his mouth to see the tall, svelte form of none other than Toto Wolff himself. No matter how much the man has burrowed under Christian’s skin in the last seven years, he would have to be blind not to appreciate the devastating cut of Toto’s tuxedo. How it makes his chest look so strong, his waist so lean, and his legs so long.

After all, the only way to beat one’s enemy is to study said enemy.

[ ... ]

Christian scoffs in dismissal, careful to hide his amusement as he adjusts the fall of his navy velvet jacket cuffs. “Oh, don’t be so negative.” He mock-scolds. “Tell me, are you always this kind and encouraging with your students?”

The water turns off, and Toto’s voice carries clearly above the background music. "If you were one of my students, you would know your place."

Christian raises his head, arching a brow in surprise as he finishes straightening a cufflink. He turns towards Toto, gaze narrowing with affront as the other man reaches for a crisply folded towel, . "And just, uh… where is that exactly?"

Toto’s dark eyes gleam under the dim, golden lighting. "With your mouth closed and your ears open,” he says, drying his hands. “Ready to listen and not to speak. Maybe then, you might actually learn something."

The corner of Christian’s mouth lifts. "You know, I think you're the only person who can make active listening sound like sexual harassment."

Fire sparks in Toto's gaze as he stills, and a thrill of victory runs through Christian. Nothing gives him greater satisfaction than winding up his rival. Short of beating him at his own game, at least.

Toto tilts his head sharply, voice dropping to a rich rumble. "If you want to start those petty war games with me, then you only discredit yourself." He steps closer, leveraging his superior height but Christian refuses to ever let this man intimidate him. "If you want to beat me so bad, beat me in the classroom, not whining and scheming behind closed office doors."

[ ... ]

[detroit-grand-prix]

Wildest Dreams Chapter 8 - Out of the Woods

Chapter summary: After recovering from the crash and surgery at home, Bee is finally starting to feel better. All that was left to determine was whether or not her racing career was worth trying to salvage. 

Content warning: Minor mentions of racing-related injuries. 

Chapter word count: 3,944

Author’s notes: Natalie, the character introduced during this chapter, is an OC I borrowed from @fuckyeahhangman​ from her Toto x F! OC fanfic Don’t Get Me Wrong (that she will continue someday, please stop sending her anons about it!). The story about Toto and the Nurburgring is very real. Toto has also talked extensively about mental health and how therapy has helped him. I’ve also been through a lot of therapy and while I know it’s not for everyone, I’m personally a big fan. Gwen Lagrue is also a real person and manages the Mercedes academy program, which kind of would have been very much in a fledgling stage at this point in actual time. 

Previous Chapter

Mercedes-Benz Group Headquarters, Stuttgart-Untertürkheim, Baden-Württemberg, Germany

September, 2016

As summer started turning to fall, Bee was starting to feel like herself again. Recovering from her injuries and not being able to race had made it a long, awful summer for her. The headaches and sleepiness stopped, her memory was improving, and she felt like she could concentrate on things again.

She’d had follow-ups with an orthopedist and neurologist in Stuttgart that Dr. Tischler had set up for her, and both were satisfied with the progress of her convalescence. She had her cast taken off and replaced with a light splint instead at first, and she didn't have to wear it all the time - just when sleeping and doing anything physical. The incision on her hip had healed well and she kind of liked the look of the scar.

She’d finally gotten the go-ahead from her doctor to resume some physical activity, which was good, because she was starting to feel antsy. Nothing too strenuous, though. She had also been working with a physiotherapist to help with regaining strength and range of motion in her wrist. It was difficult and painful, but she was already starting to see things improving.

Toto had called Bee about a week after Susie’s visit and told her that he would be in Stuttgart in early September, and they could discuss her joining the Mercedes young driver program then. He sounded happy to hear that she was still interested, but Bee was more surprised that he was still willing to take her on. 

Bee brought her father to the meeting. She technically didn’t need to, now, as she was an adult and could legally sign her own contracts, but she still appreciated his support and advice. They went to the same building and same floor that they’d gone to four years ago. Not much had changed, other than the receptionist and some of the plants. Bee sat in the waiting area, just like last time, and contemplated how much she had changed instead. She was no longer a plucky teenager in braided pigtails and a dress her mom picked out for her that desired nothing more than to beat the boys on track anymore, but an experienced driver carrying the weight of good seasons, a terrible season that was cut short, podium finishes, and devastating injury.

A month ago, her life felt like a mess. 

The good thing about messes, though, is that you can clean them up. 

“Ms. Stallard? Mr. Stallard? Mr. Wolff is ready for you”, the receptionist said, and took her and her father back to the conference room that Toto had claimed as a temporary workspace for the day. Bee was a little amused that Toto apparently still didn’t have his own office down here, but he wasn’t in Stuttgart very often for anything more than board meetings anyway. Most people that had meetings with Toto had them at the Mercedes F1 factory in the UK - the fact that Bee met with him here, in Stuttgart, was just more about timing and convenience. 

He looked up as the door opened and Bee and John came inside. He smiled brightly, and he stood up and held his arms out to give Bee a hug as she crossed the room. 

“Bienchen, it’s so good to see you again.” He bent down to embrace her. 

“It’s good to see you too, Toto," she said. She meant it. It felt like it had been forever.

Toto and John went for a handshake that turned into a hug, and all three of them took their seats.

“I was so sorry to hear about your accident. It was very frightening, Susie and I were very worried about you. I’m sorry I didn’t get a chance to come visit you, but I’m glad Susie did. How has your recovery been going?”

“Oh, I’m feeling much better now,” Bee said. “The concussion symptoms have all cleared up now, and I’ve been in physiotherapy for my wrist. Plus, I got kind of a cool scar out of it.” She turned over her wrist to show him the healed incision. It was still raised, and still a very vivid pink. She no longer had to wear a brace, but her left wrist was still a bit weaker than the right.

“See, when I broke my arm on that bike tour three years ago with some of the engineering guys and they put a plate in, mine didn’t really leave that big of a scar,” Toto said, turning over his wrist to show Bee where the incision was. She wouldn't have been able to see it if he hadn't been pointing at it. “I’m honestly a little disappointed, it would have maybe made me look more rugged.”

Bee laughed. 

“Honestly though, I think the concussion was worse. I couldn’t lie down for almost a month! Every time I did, I’d feel dizzy, and if I tried to sit back up or put any strain on myself in any way, I’d get this awful pain right behind my eyes. It felt like all I did for an entire month was sleep. I know that’s what was best for me, but after a while, I was just getting bored.”

“That’s what happened to me, too!” Toto said. “I don't know if you've heard this story, but in... 2009, if I remember, I shunted my car at the Nurburgring, on the Nordschleife. I was going for a lap record for GT cars and got a puncture at this one particularly dangerous spot on the track, near the Fuchsröhre. I hit the guardrail at 289 km/h. It took ages for my car to stop after the initial hit, and then I got out of the car and climbed over the safety barrier, which I don’t even remember even doing. The track marshals found my car but I wasn’t in it, I was lying in the grass on the other side of the fencing. I couldn't smell or taste anything for six months after that because of nerve damage.”

“That sounds horrible!” John said. “You’re lucky that’s all you walked away with, that’s a hell of a deceleration.” Bee could practically see her father trying to calculate the g-forces in his head. Engineers.

“I don’t think I’d ever race on the Nordschleife, even if I had the chance,” Bee said. “I’ve been there before, dad took me one year when they had the touristenfahrten because I really wanted to see it - It’s hard enough to drive on with all of those blind corners, actually racing on it sounds like a nightmare.” 

“You’re a smart girl, bienchen. Smarter than I was. Niki told me it was a bad idea, and he was absolutely right.” Toto said. “Anyway, enough of our war stories, otherwise your father might not let you race anymore.” 

John chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I’m the one that got her started on it.” 

“Susie told me a little bit about what you talked about when she visited. I understand that Red Bull let you go without much fanfare. It’s a shame, you have real talent, and a few bad races doesn’t change that. But, that’s Helmut’s modus operandi.”

“If I’m honest, now that I’ve had some time away from the situation, I don’t think I was really happy with them”, Bee said, furrowing her brow. “I had a… dispute with one of the other junior drivers. I tried to do what I thought was the right thing and tell Dr. Marko about it, but he shut me down. He didn’t necessarily take the other guy’s side, but he also said that girls are too much trouble… something like that.” 

Toto looked at her thoughtfully. “Susie did say you had some sort of issue, but she didn’t talk about the specifics - and don’t worry, I won’t ask. However, I do know for certain that that is no way to treat an athlete you’re trying to develop if you want to see them reach their fullest potential.”

Bee sighed. “I guess that’s another thing on the list of things that makes me wish I’d made a different decision four years ago.

Toto shook his head. “You had your reasons. We can’t change the past, all we can do is look forward to the future.” 

From there, they got into discussing the finer points of the proposed contract. The negotiations didn’t take overly long, as Bee wasn’t really in much of a position to demand much, but she thought it was pretty fair anyway. 

One thing she hadn’t thought about was management. As her career was starting to get more serious, she would need someone to help steer it - negotiations for team placement, contract and salary terms, hiring staff like trainers  - all of these things that Bee hadn’t ever really considered before because nobody in her family had ever been in any sort of elite-level athletics. 

Separate from her contract with the Mercedes junior program, Toto offered terms to become her manager. Up until this point, she’d mostly just relied on Red Bull to negotiate things with her teams. It hadn’t even occurred to her that she'd be able to hire people of her choosing. Of course, Bee accepted Toto’s offer to manage her, why wouldn’t she? He and his wife had both been incredibly supportive of her career, even when there was little to no incentive in it for either of them. 

“Now, I cannot contractually obligate you to do this, technically, but there is something I would like you to do before the upcoming season, not just for the sake of your performance, but because I think it will also personally benefit you.” Toto said when they were putting the final touches on Bee’s contract.

“What is it?”

“I would like you to start seeing a psychologist. One that works with athletes, specifically. This is something I tell all of the drivers I manage. I have been seeing a therapist since… well, probably for about 12 years now, and it has helped me quite a bit. I know you’ve said in the past that you feel a lot of pressure. It’s normal, I think every athlete does, not just racing drivers. But being able to effectively manage stress and anxiety is going to be very important as you progress and try to move up the ladder into Formula 1, if that’s your goal eventually.”

Bee considered his suggestion. It wasn’t a bad idea. She’d just never considered it, and only was vaguely aware of the idea of a sports psychologist in general.. It would be nice to have someone to talk about things with, and to learn how to manage her stress better, and how to get over her fear of being perceived as vulnerable. By the time she got to Pau, even before the incident with Evgeni happened, she was starting to feel the stress and pressure acutely. 

“That’s… a really good idea. I’ll definitely start doing that.”

“I am happy to hear you say that. Some people kind of… get upset with the suggestion, but I don’t think it’s a sign of weakness to admit you would benefit from it. Truly, I think it’s a sign of strength.”

The next step was to find a seat for her for the upcoming season, provided she was able to recover sufficiently enough to be able to drive a race car again. 

They finished the contract negotiations, and all parties left reasonably happy. Toto was officially Bee’s manager, and she was now officially a Mercedes junior driver. John seemed to approve, as well. They shook hands for the purpose of being businesslike, but they hugged after that. 

“I’m so happy to have you with us, bienchen. I think we’ll be able to do great things together.”

Things proceeded apace after her meeting with Toto. Her move to the Mercedes team wouldn’t be announced for a while, so nobody knew except for her parents. Bee didn’t even tell her grandparents. It was annoying to have to keep under wraps, because her separation from Red Bull was made public by Red Bull near-immediately, and she’d been getting questions about what she was going to do next season. She couldn’t answer because she didn’t officially know, but getting in with Mercedes was an excellent first step.

Brackley, Northampton, England, United Kingdom Mid-September, 2016

Bee’s first order of business was to travel to Brackley, where the Mercedes F1 team factory was. She would be getting a tour of the Mercedes factory at last - she hadn’t ever seen it, even though she’d been to the Wolff’s house before, because she was previously associated with a rival team. She also had a lot of meetings scheduled while she was there - a meeting with the PR department, an assessment with one of the team’s physiotherapists to assess where she was with her recovery and current level of fitness, and develop a training plan to prepare her for the upcoming season.

First and foremost, though, she had a meeting with Gwen Lagrue, the man that had been appointed to run the driver development program at the beginning of the year. Before that, Toto and Niki Lauda had been mostly managing the recruitment of the few junior drivers Mercedes had by themselves, but it meant that the academy program still hadn’t been well-developed. Gwen had built up the Renault program to be incredibly successful, and was hired to do the same with Mercedes.

"We don’t really know where you’re going to end up for sure yet for this season, as you and Toto had discussed.” Gwen said during their meeting. “Your injury, plus the fact that you didn’t finish this current season make the situation a little more complicated -" Bee frowned, but Gwen continued. "...not that it’s your fault, of course, but that’s the reality at the moment.”

“But, I’m setting you up with a few rookie tests with a few GP2 teams at the end of the year, so you’ll still have time to build your strength back up. It’s a spec series, as you know, so the nice thing is, doing one test should give you an idea of where you are in general. We’re going to have you proceed with your training assuming that you will have a seat in the GP2 series. That way, if you end up somewhere like GP3 or even back to Formula 3, you’ll be almost over-prepared. Once you’ve been medically cleared to drive a car and are back to full strength, we’ll start having you use the simulator to start preparing you for driving an F1 car.”

Bee couldn’t believe what she was hearing. It wasn’t quite the same as actually driving an F1 car, but being able to use an actual F1 simulator was the very first step. 

Gwen told her she would also be attending two of the flyaway races - one in the US, and one in Mexico - with the team, to observe in the garage. She was beyond excited - she’d been to a few F1 races with her dad, but she’d never gotten the chance to go into the paddock or garages, even when she was with Red Bull. It was something they only did with their F2 juniors, mostly, because they had far too many drivers in the lower feeder series to be able to invite them to races, and F2 races were held at the same venues and weekends as F1 races. 

Plus, she was excited to be going to the US race. She had never been to Texas, and getting to go back to the US for a few days was going to be amazing. It also meant getting to meet Lewis Hamilton, who was her second favorite driver, and possibly getting to see Sebastian again, even though he was with Ferrari now. Plus, the prospect of sitting with all of the engineers and seeing how strategy worked real-time in an actual Formula 1 race would be amazing. She'd only ever seen it from her perspective driving and through debriefs, but what happens in the garage during races was almost a race on its own.

She was also given her new team kit for Mercedes. Red Bull’s team kit had a very bright color scheme, all primary colors - navy blue, red, and yellow. The Mercedes teamwear was black and white, with touches of gray and teal. She liked it, though - she thought it made her look more sophisticated. She wasn’t so sure about the white shirt, because she couldn’t see it staying clean for very long, but she liked the black shirt with the gray stripes that snaked around the shoulders. They gave her a gray pullover sweater that was her absolute favorite part of it, and she couldn't wait until it was actually cold enough to wear.

Next was the meeting with the physio, which Bee was dreading. They put her through a battery of tests to evaluate her overall physical condition - reaction timing on a BATAK machine, leg presses, neck exercises, and a cardio assessment to measure her cardiovascular fitness levels and VO2 max. 

Her reaction time was still quite good, and the other results weren’t as much of a disaster as Bee expected, but she’d gone through a bit of deconditioning with the surgery and recovery, which was not surprising.

And while she was in decent shape as far as cardiovascular fitness went, she would have to work on building up more muscle. The leg presses and neck exercises had felt a little rough. The physio gave her a training and nutrition plan, and she would just have to have it cleared by her own doctor before she could start. 

Bee also took Toto’s recommendation and found a sports psychologist to start seeing. Toto gave her the names of ones he knew of, and she picked a woman based in London named Natalie. It was intentional - Bee decided she’d be far more comfortable talking to a woman.

“Natalie Arenas? Oh, she’s fantastic,” Toto said. “I know her quite well. She used to work here, actually.” 

“Really?”

“Yes! She ran the coffee counter in the canteen while she was doing her graduate studies at the University of Northampton. She’s very bright, very dedicated, very passionate about everything she does. I think you’ll like her. I'll tell her to expect you.”

Natalie had agreed to allow Bee to do sessions via Skype, since she was still living in Germany and would be busy traveling between Germany and the UK until she found a place on a team for the next year. They scheduled their first meeting when Bee would be back in Germany before leaving for the United States.

Bee was incredibly nervous for her first appointment, feeling something like she’d felt for her first race each season. She wasn’t sure why - there was no real risk of danger here like there was in racing. It was just talking to someone, but she wasn’t sure what to expect.

The Skype call came in, and Bee connected to the session with Natalie. She was quite young - couldn’t have been in her 30’s, even. She had a very kind-looking face, though, with thick, dark, curly hair, a small nose, a kind smile, and an accent that sounded kind-of British, but not. 

“Hello, you must be Phoebe! My name is Natalie Arenas. It's nice to meet you. I was surprised when Toto contacted me and told me that one of his junior drivers was coming to me, and even more surprised when he told me you were a young woman. I think that's fantastic to finally see a woman in racing again, after Susie retired. Anyway, how are you doing today? ”

“I’m… fine! I'm a bit nervous, I guess. It’s nice to meet you. I usually just go by Bee, though.”

“Oh, that’s good to know." She wrote something in the notebook in her lap. "And don't worry - it’s completely normal to be a little nervous, especially if you're starting therapy for the first time. If it helps, I think you’re showing a lot of bravery even just by starting this process. If you could tell me a little bit about yourself and why you’re here, I think that would be the best way to start, and then, I can tell you a bit about myself, too.”

Bee gave her entire story so far - how her family was from the US but ended up in Germany because of her dad’s job, how she’d gone from karting to single-seater racing, being sponsored by Red Bull and the pressure she felt, especially being one of the few women in racing, feeling guilty about choosing Red Bull over Mercedes at first and why she did it, her accident and her recovery. She also discussed the fear she felt over the summer that her career was ending before it could even start, and the guilt had  about her parents altering their whole lives to stay overseas so she could race. She skipped over a few things - major things, not wanting to dive in too deep, too soon. 

It was Natalie’s turn, then. Her parents were from Argentina. Her grandfather was school friends with Juan-Manuel Fangio and got a job at Mercedes in Argentina. Her father followed in his father's footsteps and also became an automotive engineer working for Mercedes, and the whole family immigrated to the UK when her father was transferred to the Brixworth powertrains factory. It was because of this connection that Natalie ended up working at the coffee shop at the Brackley headquarters when she was working her way through school, and how working for the team shaped her ambitions of being a psychologist into wanting specifically to work with athletes. She ended up working with quite a few racing drivers because of her connections to the industry. 

The fact that Natalie’s background and family life were so similar to hers was a great comfort to Bee, and by the end of her first session, she almost didn’t want to stop talking to her. They set up an appointment for the following week, and Bee was surprised to find herself looking forward to it.

Bee also scheduled a visit with her regular doctor to make sure she was ready to resume full activity. She brought the training plan given to her by the Mercedes team physio. Her doctor didn’t seem to have any issues with it, and told Bee she was okay to go back to regular training, but cautioned her to not push herself to excess, and to give herself rest days. “It’s very possible to overwork yourself and that will actually hinder your ability to put on muscle. And it's especially important to make sure you’re eating enough, especially fat and calories. I know with many athletes, there's an impulse to cut back on fat and carbs and focus on proteins, If you’re doing intense workouts, your body needs fuel, and if you don’t eat enough or keep your macronutrients balanced, it will take the energy it needs from your muscles, which will also set you back.”

She also had her final follow-up with the orthopedist, who deemed her wrist fully healed, and was pleased with the gains she’d made with strength and range of motion.

“The surgery and recovery were both fairly textbook, as far as I’m concerned. I see no reason why you can’t begin training seriously. Just make sure you pay attention to how your wrist feels, and rest it if it gets painful or stiff. And make sure to let go of the steering wheel, next time”, the doctor said.

Next Chapter

[calacuspr]

Calacus Weekly Hit & Miss – Mercedes-Benz F1 & Robbie Dunne & PJA

Every week we look at the best and worst communicators in the sports world from the previous week.

HIT - MERCEDES-BENZ F1

Formula One running costs have accelerated by 1000% over the past 30 years, meaning teams are relying on sponsorship liveries now more than ever.

Top teams have budgets of more than $400 million and predominantly rely on the financial support from corporate sponsors for funding.

This week, one such sponsorship deal caused a stir, when it was announced that Mercedes-AMG Petronas had agreed a collaboration with British construction company Kingspan.

Kingspan’s subsidiary, Kingspan Insulation UK, remain at the centre of an ongoing enquiry into the 2017 Grenfell Tower fire that killed 72 people, after it was discovered that the insulation materials the company had supplied during the construction of the tower were highly flammable.

Kingspan's logo had appeared on Mercedes driver Sir Lewis Hamilton's car as he won the Saudi Arabian Grand Prix two weeks ago.

Hamilton said, when asked about the controversy, that he had nothing to do with the deal, adding: "Unfortunately my name is associated with it because it has been on my car but whether that remains the same, we will see."

UK government Cabinet minister Michael Gove added his voice to condemnation from relatives of the 72 people killed in the devastating 2017 Grenfell fire of the team's decision to add Kingspan to its financial backers.

In a letter to Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 team principal Toto Wolff, Mr Gove said the Government could amend advertising rules on racing cars if he does not pull the partnership with Kingspan.

He wrote: “I am conscious that there are very real questions about whether Parliament would support a statutory regime that enabled a core participant in a public inquiry in to how 72 people lost their lives to advertise its products publicly to millions of families across the country.

“The achievements of Mercedes and Sir Lewis Hamilton in recent years represent a British success story of which we are all proud.

“I hope you will reconsider this commercial partnership which threatens to undermine all the good work the company and sport has done.”

However, to their credit ,Mercedes were very quick to respond, abruptly terminating their partnership with Kingspan with immediate effect.

In a statement, the team said: "The Mercedes-AMG Petronas F1 Team and Kingspan today announced that they have mutually agreed to end their partnership.

“Both parties have subsequently concluded that it is not appropriate for the partnership to move forward at the current point in time, notwithstanding its intended positive impact, and we have therefore agreed that it will be discontinued with immediate effect.”

Kingspan said: "We are deeply aware of the sensitivities raised in recent days, and so we have jointly agreed that it's not appropriate to move forward at the current point in time."

The survivors' group Grenfell United, welcomed Mercedes’ announcement, saying it had met Mr Wolff to discuss its concerns.

In a sport where cash is nearly always king, Mercedes have done the right thing by dissociating themselves from Kingspan and underlines the importance of organisations putting values and people before profits.

In another encouraging move for Mercedes, Hamilton has been lauded for an incredible act of allyship after adorning his helmet with rainbow colours for the final three Grand Prix races of the season, in Qatar, Saudi Arabia, and Abu Dhabi.

The seven-time Formula One world champion presented the colours of the Progress Pride flag – a banner which recognises the diversity of the LGBTQ+ community.

On the Gulf States’ approach to human rights issues and discriminatory laws against women and LGBTQ+ individuals, Hamilton said: “We’re aware there are issues in these places that we’re going to. But of course [Qatar] seems to be deemed as one of the worst in this part of the world. As sports go to these places, they are duty bound to raise awareness for these issues. These places need scrutiny. Equal rights is a serious issue.

“If we are coming to these places, we need to be raising the profile of the situation. One person can only make a certain amount of small difference but collectively we can have a bigger impact. Do I wish that more sportsmen and women spoke out on these issues? Yes.

“It’s down to whether you decide to educate yourself and hold the sport more accountable and make sure the sport is actually doing something when they go to those places.”

Richard Morris, a British racing driver and co-founder of Racing Pride, stated that Hamilton’s gesture “fills me with hope”.

“It is an incredible act of allyship from Lewis to show solidarity with the LGBTQ+ community, in the context of Formula One visiting a region in which LGBTQ+ people face discrimination and challenges to their human rights,” Morris said.

“So it fills me with hope that we are now seeing drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Sebastian Vettel be active champions for inclusion. There’s a lot more work to be done in the sport, but we are starting to move in the right direction.”

Hamilton has previously called on F1 stars and other sportspeople to speak out against human rights abuses. His friend and rival Vettel wore a T-shirt in support of the LGBTQ+ community at the Hungarian Grand Prix earlier in the season.

Hamilton’s gesture demonstrates the capacity the sport has to use its platform positively to promote values of inclusion around the world.

His message is clear and emphasizes the progress in Formula One’s position on diversity and inclusivity. By providing their fans with role models who are willing to speak up on important humanitarian issues, it is an indication that motorsport is starting to move in the right direction.

MISS – ROBBIE DUNNE & PJA

As with so many other sports, horseracing has gone through something of a transformation over recent years.

It was only in 1972 that Meriel Tufnell became the first female jockey to win an official horse race in Britain, the first year that they were allowed to race against men.

Forty years later and Katie Walsh finished third on Seabass at the 2012 Grand National, before Rachael Blackmore became the first female winner with Minella Times at this year’s race.

The Guardian said of Blackmore: “Racing has found a new icon to draw fans back to the track…she is the superstar the sport needed so urgently after a year with no spectators on the racecourse.”

Another star of the sport is Bryony Frost, who made history at the Cheltenham Festival in 2019, winning the Grade One Ryanair Chase, the first woman to win a race at that level and she went on to win the King George VI Chase with Frodon at Kempton on Boxing Day last year.

But Frost has suffered for her success, embroiled in a high profile dispute with fellow jockey Robbie Dunne which resulted in a British Horseracing Association (BHA) independent disciplinary panel banning him from the sport for 18 months (three of which are suspended).

Reports suggested that the problems began early in 2020, although a clash in September when Dunne’s horse Cillian’s Well fell, and was fatally injured, in a clash with Frost was thought to be partly to blame.

An initial report, detailed in The Sunday Times, exposed a culture of “bullying and intimidation in the workplace,” which resulted in Dunne facing disciplinary charges including “conduct prejudicial to the integrity or good reputation” of the sport.

When the investigation was first revealed, Dunne said: "What happens in the weighing room stays in the weighing room,” which gave the impression that he was dismissive of the concerns or complaints being levelled at him.

Frost’s formal complaint to the British Horseracing Authority (BHA) listed a series of incidents involving Dunne, dating back to her early days as an amateur rider.

Her father, Jimmy Frost, who won the Grand National in 1989, told the Daily Telegraph in January: “I just think it's a tough world at the moment to go into and it shouldn't be. It should come into the 21st century, and we should look after each youngster. It's probably getting to the stage where I would struggle to recommend a youngster.

“Bryony's got quite a lot of young followers, boys and girls. I've got one who comes for lessons once a week. They want to follow that career but, listening to her sometimes at what goes on, I wouldn't recommend them to follow that. It would be nice to see that change. Something needs looking at.”

The independent disciplinary panel ruled that Dunne had engaged in conduct online, on the track and in the weighing room that was prejudicial to the integrity, proper conduct and good reputation of racing.

The panel heard that  Dunne had threatened Frost by promising to "put her through a wing" and is also accused of using misogynistic language such as "f****** w***e", "f****** s**t" and "dangerous c***" towards her as well as opening his towel and exposing himself to Frost in the changing rooms.

Former amateur rider Hannah Welch said an incident after a race at Chepstow in November 2018 contributed to her giving up jump racing. She said: "He was shouting and swearing, standing very closely in front of me. I was crying. He did not stop.”

Louis Weston, representing the BHA, said in his closing remarks that Dunne subjected Frost to a "vendetta" which saw her ostracised by other jockeys and valets.

"If there is a weighing-room culture that allows one jockey to threaten another with serious harm to them and their horse, that culture is one that is sour, rancid and we say should be thrown out and discarded. It's had its time," he said, adding that racing "exerted a pressure on people who would otherwise speak freely.

“If what is being said, when you come to determine this case, there is a weighing room culture that allows one jockey to threaten another with serious injury to them or their horse, or to call another a whore, a slut or a slag then that culture is one that is sour, rancid and one that we say should be thrown out and discarded. Its time, if ever it had its time, has gone.”

Panel Chair Brian Barker said they had been "unable to accept Mr Dunne's sweep of denials, criticisms and his reasoning" as well as expressing "real concern" about the described culture of the weighing room in Britain.

Mr Barker added: "A man, who in the view of one of his own witnesses was a 'piss-taker', and who regarded himself as one of the elders of the weighing room and someone who expected his view to be heeded.

"The tenor and type of language that we find was used towards Ms Frost is totally unacceptable, whatever the frustrations about her style and whatever the habits of the weighing room. They fall squarely within the ambit of the prohibition set out in the rule.

"Secondly, in reviewing the evidence given and their approach by jockeys of repute as well as by the valets – who probably find themselves in a difficult position – we have real concern that what was referred to by Mr Weston as the 'weighing room culture' is deep-rooted and coercive, and in itself is not conducive to the good health and the development of modern day race-riding."

This sorry episode has shone a light on a toxic culture of bullying and misogyny, with Dunne a key proponent.

Perhaps tellingly, the Professional Jockey’s Association rejected the damaging assessment made during the inquiry about the culture of the sport.

It rapidly issued a statement after the verdict which said: "The PJA does not accept the disciplinary panel’s findings in relation to the culture within and collective behaviour of the jump jockeys’ weighing room. It is a grossly inaccurate and wholly unfair representation of the weighing-room and a conclusion we believe is at odds with the evidence presented.”

“The PJA therefore accepts that the language used in the weighing room will not always be the language you would expect in an office. This is no different to what happens in the pressure cooker of any professional sport.”

The tone of their statement was one of defensive denial, especially considering that Frost is also one of their members. While others may not have had the confidence to speak up, her accusations were considered to be proven, so why did the PJA not express concern for her and others perhaps less confident to come forward?

Julie Harrington, BHA CEO provided wise counsel: “As the chief executive of the BHA, there is a clear finding that Bryony was bullied. We will take time to reflect and hopefully the PJA will reflect with their members before speaking any further.

“But it is important for racing fans, for the public, for parents who want their children to come into this sport, that we can look them in the eye and are seen to be doing the right thing.

“I would like to praise Bryony Frost for having the courage to come forward and raise her concerns,” she said. “This was not easy to do but sport needs brave pioneers such as her if change is ever going to be made.

“The investigation and the serious charges brought highlight that there is no room for conduct of this nature within our sport. We believe this is an important moment for our industry.”

What reception Frost will receive in the face of such denials from her fellow jockeys remains to be seen.

She made a brief statement which said: “I would like to thank every individual including the racing public that has supported me not only during the last couple of weeks but throughout.

"I wish now to take time to reflect on the outcome before I make any further comment. I ask the media to please give me and the people closest to me a few days of privacy. I need to focus on my upcoming rides over the weekend. Thank you."

Dunne may not be the only jockey whose conduct warrants review, but this case has underlined the need to address genuine problems in the sport’s culture - and Dunne would do well to reflect on his own behaviour.

The fact that he has not yet expressed any regret for his actions speaks volumes about the level of transformation the sport requires if it is to be a welcome environment for everyone.

[f1chronicle]

Hello and welcome to F1 News Today with Tillie!  Let’s take a look at what’s making news in the world of Formula 1 today… 1) Lando Norris 'devastated' after losing chance at first Formula One win 2) Max Verstappen's second place like a victory for Red Bull, says Christian Horner 3) Title battle too close for comfort, says Mercedes boss Toto Wolff 4) Engine concerns hang over Lewis Hamilton's F1 title bid We’re powered by the F1 Chronicle, make sure you visit f1chronicle.com for more news, and subscribe to the F1 Chronicle YouTube channel so you never miss an episode of F1 News Today.  ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Visit the Grid Talk store ►  https://ift.tt/3ljWC2A Subscribe ► https://www.youtube.com/c/Formula1GridTalk  Follow ► Facebook – https://www.facebook.com/F1ChronicleOfficial/  Twitter – https://twitter.com/F1Chronicle  Tumblr – https://f1chronicle.tumblr.com/  Artwork ► Avatar by Chereverie Twitter: @mewdokas Tumblr: chereverie Instagram: chereverie.art ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Transcription ► Hello and welcome to F1 News Today with Tillie!  Right, let’s take a look at what’s making news in the world of Formula 1 today… Oh sis, I don’t know about you, but I’m still absolutely gutted for Lando!! He’s still in his feelings too, telling ESPN… “Obviously unhappy... devastated in a way..."  "I guess we made a call to stay out and we stand by that call, of course, it was the wrong one at the end!! "I made the decision as much as the team...  “More they thought I should box and I decided to stay out! "My decision, I thought it was the way to go..." "I had the confidence beforehand... “I've felt capable of doing it for a while, but just a bit of heartbreak you know... "I felt like I did everything I could even when it got tricky! "I made a couple of mistakes and still kept Lewis behind me...  “The laps I was out, before Lewis boxed, it was perfectly fine for the tyres I was on... “I got told the rain would be the same amount, but it obviously got a lot wetter than we as a team expected!" Chin up Lando, everyone in F1 wants to give you a big hug… From tears to cheers now… Red Bull boss Christian Horner feels as if Max Verstappen’s second-place finish in Russia was like a victory, saying… "Today was like a victory for us… "To come from 20th on the grid to second, I think if anybody had offered us that... we would have bitten your arm off." "Max got the call right to go on the inters and it worked out well for him!"   "The rain the last five laps came at the right time..." "To come away from two Mercedes strongholds with only a two-point deficit in the drivers' championship is hugely encouraging! "I don't think there's any circuit that stands out as strongly as Russia and Monza for Mercedes...  “You could say it's 50-50 in what's left on the table!" Looking across the pit lane, Mercedes boss Toto Wolff would most likely agree with Christian Horner that the battle is fifty fifty, which is much too close for comfort for Wolff, who looking ahead to the Turkish Grand Prix, said… "I think neither driver or team can have any comfort in the current situation because there is just no gap in terms of points..." "I've stopped trying to anticipate whether Turkey is a historically strong race for us or not because with the new regulation everything has changed so much!" "But definitely, we knew that Monza and Sochi would be coming more towards us and the reality is that we are where we are..." An unusually downbeat Wolff went on to talk about an impending engine change for Lewis Hamilton, which would see the 7-time champion have to start from the back of the grid… On the engine situation, Wolff said… "We are in a phase of assessment how to continue this season in terms of power units..." "Reliability versus performance is always the fine line that you need to get right!" "Nobody, neither us nor our competitors, can afford a zero-point race weekend…” Well that concludes this episode of F1 News Today with Tillie.  We’re definitely approaching squeaky bum time in the 2021 Formula 1 season, aren’t we? We’re powered by the F1 Chronicle! Make sure you visit f1chronicle dot com for more news... and subscribe to the F1 Chronicle YouTube channel so you never miss an episode of F1 News Today! Source Articles ► https://www.espn.com/f1/story/_/id/32284126/lando-norris-devastated-losing-chance-first-formula-one-win  https://www.espn.com/f1/story/_/id/32284863/max-verstappen-second-place-victory-red-bull-says-christian-horner  https://www.espn.com/f1/story/_/id/32290465/title-battle-too-close-comfort-says-mercedes-boss-toto-wolff  https://www.espn.com/f1/story/_/id/32291119/engine-concerns-hang-lewis-hamilton-f1-title-bid  #F1NewsToday #F1News #Formula1News by Formula 1 Grid Talk

[othersportsnews-blog]

Lewis Hamilton invitations Billy Monger to British GP

New Post has been published on https://othersportsnews.com/lewis-hamilton-invitations-billy-monger-to-british-gp/

Lewis Hamilton invitations Billy Monger to British GP

Billy Monger will go to this weekend’s Method Just one British Grand Prix as a visitor of Lewis Hamilton and Mercedes.

The 18-12 months-previous, who lost equally of his lessen legs in a horrific British F4 crash at Donington Park in April, and his family members have been invited by Hamilton to Silverstone to enjoy the weekend’s action from the again of the Mercedes garage.

Monger shared a hug and handshake with Hamilton as the two fulfilled in advance of 2nd practice on Friday, ahead of he used the session together with Mercedes manager Toto Wolff in the Silver Arrows’ garage. Adhering to Friday practice, Hamilton, who formerly admitted he experienced been “affected” by Monger’s accident, praised the youngster’s resilience and robust thoughts-set.

“Obviously I have viewed closely the incident that he experienced which I think broke everyone’s coronary heart to see that type of factor occur,” Hamilton said. “For me individually it really it property as I bear in mind currently being in which he was in that classification and preventing your way up with the dream and your watch on currently being in Method Just one and to have that taken away from you in an instant, that was really not his fault. I was just devastated.

Martin Rickett/PA Photographs by means of Getty Photographs

“Persons normally request me in which I get my inspiration from. I get inspiration from all these other individuals carrying out awesome points all over the world and he is one of those people. He has appear out of hospital, truly he experienced an procedure yesterday and he is in this article now. This week he experienced been acquiring operations. His thoughts-set, his mentality, he’s inspiring so lots of people who have challenges no matter whether its disability or experienced incidents and even for people like myself.

“I think he’s frigging brilliant so that’s why I invited him down and his family members. When I was in the garage I could see him in my mirror. Ideally likely to get him in my vehicle at some phase mainly because I am absolutely sure he would like to sit in the vehicle. He is presently racing, presently again in the racing vehicle, a bit like Alex Zanardi, who for me blows my thoughts. I think he’s just an extraordinary human currently being, he’s gone onto acquire gold medals and I know this child is likely to do the exact factor.”

Outstanding to have @BillyMonger with us now! Chat about inspirational 💪 #BillyWhizz #BritishGP #F1 pic.twitter.com/YpxUFTpNcF

— Mercedes-AMG F1 (@MercedesAMGF1) July 14, 2017

Monger got again guiding the wheel of a racing vehicle just 11 weeks right after his accident, driving a specially tailored Entertaining Cup vehicle at Manufacturers Hatch previously this thirty day period as he stepped up preparations for his racing return at the Estoril round of the VdeV Endurance Proto Series in November.

The Briton is linking up with quadruple amputee and Le Mans racer Frederic Sausset in a scheme aimed at putting 3 disabled motorists on the grid at the Le Mans 24 Several hours in 2020.

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