Game on, Love (Pitch and Pits #1)

1

Raina

IT WAS FREEZING.

Dark grey clouds loomed in the sky, heavy and ready to burst. I stood behind the glass doors, which opened and closed every few seconds as my small movements triggered the sensors.

It was barely September, and while the sun should have been shining, reflecting the golden glow over the mirrored buildings, the sky looked ready to unleash a torrential downpour.

Maybe I should have felt a sense of familiarity in it, and truthfully, on a regular day, I would have. The comfort of raindrops on a window and the scent that followed brought me memories of home and Ma .

But today, the way the wind picked up, carrying a chill that shouldn’t have been there, felt like it was waiting to rip that comfort off and graze the wounds hidden behind those memories.

A vulnerability I was sure I didn’t want to confront.

I closed my eyes and pulled myself into the memories of home.

Being at home meant spending time with Ma and my grandparents, and that will always be a special time for me. From the moment we got onto the flight and stepped foot in the sticky humidity of Delhi, the time of my life was on. Leaving the mugginess of the UK and four grumpy guys behind meant that when we got on that flight, it was only Ma and me.

No more dotting on stupid boys who yelled at each other and us, no more doing things because of their practice sessions or schedules, just us two. Even though I loved my brothers, and all those times when Ma had always told me, “I’m lucky I’ve got three older brothers, that means three times the love my Dad already had for me.”

I always felt lucky.

Somehow, that irony jolts me out of that moment, and I stare back at the sky.

Would she have been disappointed with me for not forgiving them? Would she be angry with me for never reaching out? Was she angry at them for never doing the same?

But most of all, the voice in me couldn’t stop repeating, was this her way of making it right again?

The signs had been there all day. She had been reminding me of all those broken pieces since this morning, and I wondered if this was the one that forced me to pick them all back.

This morning had been more than just a brewing storm, it was a full-blown disaster. The plan was to arrive at Silverstone for a special piece as part of our pre-race show, Pit Stops , and do a full day of shoot before stopping by the NexGen Campus to pick up some collateral for the shoot the following day and scooting off for a lush night in.

But as soon as we arrived at the track and were ready to start the shoot, a day that had started as clear skies and glaring sunshine turned into a storm and a half. The debate to stay on-site for a night and finish the project the next day was over before it started, and we were left to make do with what we could in the weather and adapt for the time being.

Admittedly, it wasn’t that bad. I was also glad that out of all the drivers on the grid, it was Axel we were shooting with that day. With the ramp-up of content and media duties for the drivers this year, they had been extra stingy to work with, and the handful of those in the situation as him before had stepped out as soon as the situation required us to adapt and mould our creative to go with the weather or emergencies.

I may be biased, but Axel Beauman was a work of art.

From Karting to Formula One, he has had one of the most successful and record-breaking careers the sport has seen. At thirteen, he was the youngest-ever karting champion, and at twenty-one, he was the youngest-ever Formula One champion.

He was regarded as one of the most competitive drivers on the grid and was among the best drivers who would go down in history.

His driving was almost always flawless, as if it were his natural state. As he broke records made before him and set new ones for the drivers coming after him, watching his story unfold was an experience in itself.

And yet, as a two-time world champion on the way to winning his third one, he was still one of the most genuine people I had known.

He always arrived early, didn’t fuss if we were running late and always got the crew treats to work with. He almost always got extra brownie points for getting me a coffee to go with it.

I had known Axel since we were kids, which was one of the few things I had gained from my parents, who always prioritised my brothers.

While I never had a favourite sibling, I shared a special bond with Vedant that I never shared with Rihaan or Dev.

When Dad took Rihaan to cricket practice, and Ma took Vedant to his races and practice sessions, I always had the choice to stay home with Dev, but I wanted to spend as much time with Ma and Vedant as possible, so it was never a question.

Axel and I met during one of their karting race weekends after I had managed to get lost in their makeshift paddock.

In my defence, I had wandered off to look for Ma, who had stepped outside, leaving Vedant and me with some adult she obviously considered responsible. But if I was known to be clingy with my brother, I'm not sure what the word would be, but I wholeheartedly considered myself a part of Ma. If she wasn’t around, I felt like I had half a heart, and like a moth to a flame, I would find her and stick by her side.

I always called that moment a bittersweet accident because running into Axel’s Mum—who had found me and brought me back to our section—had almost given us three exactly what we needed.

A friend.

From travelling together during the race weekends and spending the off-season training together to celebrating birthdays and festivals and spending the winter break at our lodges, we became a family.

But as they both went along in competitive series and Axel made and broke records, his and Vedant’s relationship got sour. I knew it wasn’t jealousy because Vedant was always one step behind him, but I always found it amazing that neither of them put me in the middle of it until last year, anyway.

After completely disappearing from his life without a word, I had no expectations for our friendship. I would be seeing him after nine years, and while I had kept my eye on his career and watched him take over the world of motorsport, I rarely saw the kid I had been friends with all those years ago in the media. But despite all of that, when I saw him at the pre-season gala, it took him about 0 minutes to spot me and recognise me, and there was the guy I had made some of my best childhood memories with.

So yeah, I was biased.

We finished our shoot around 3 PM. and called it a day. The filming crew stayed back to get on-site shots while I tried to find a ride home.

Even though Axel and I had plans to meet later with the group, I still had to collect my stuff from campus, go home, and drop it off, and that was more than just a pit stop.

The plan was to take a taxi to campus and then return home, as I had done a hundred times in the past year.

But the weather had other plans for me.

As I was packing up, my driver called me frantically, saying his car had broken down in the middle of M40, and I was left to make my own way.

I looked at my train app and knew I would not be able to make it back to campus in time.

I walked back to where the rest of the crew were. My only option was to go back with them, which meant I would need to cancel my plans with Axel. But before I could even say the words, Axel was packing up and giving me a ride back.

It took us two hours to reach campus. The drive was quiet as I worked on my laptop while listening to the most random playlist in the world. His rule was simple: the song needed to make his head bounce, and he didn’t skip it.

Walking into the building, I was met with a tense, hushed atmosphere that signalled something was wrong: awkward smiles, stiff shoulders, and frown lines.

What the hell?

Instead of walking to my desk, I went straight to my manager’s office.

Knocking on the open door, I walked in. “Hey, what’s going on?”

Hazel’s lips pursed in line as she nodded at the door, instantly making my stomach drop to the floor.

During the years I’ve worked at NexGen as a sports media journalist, Hazel has asked me to attend a closed-door meeting once.

Her idea was that if we kept the door open, the conversations would need to be quick and to the point.

The door made a clicking sound as I sat in front of her.

“This morning during the town hall meeting, the execs announced we’d be going through a restructure.” Her voice was flat.

A restructure.

The word alone was enough to send shivers down my spine.

As she gave me the brief run-down of the announcement, the thought of losing the job I loved was like a punch to my gut: cuts were coming, and friends I had made in the time I’d been here would lose their jobs.

My whole career has been at NexGen. I started as a summer placement student and worked part-time while I was at university. I made my way up as a sports journalist, covering Formula and occasionally tennis during Wimbledon.

The idea of it being ripped away was heartbreaking.

“Raina? Did you hear what I said?”

“Huh?” I drawled.

“Everyone on the list was told before the announcement today.”

Oh.

The feeling of relief hit me like a wave as I dropped back in my chair.

“And even though we’d reshuffle a lot of people, there will be changes,” Hazel spoke with an unease I had never seen before.

“What kind of changes?” My voice came out sharper than intended, and I swallowed.

Something was wrong. I could feel it.

“Starting next season, we want you to cover cricket.” I felt my whole body stiffen. “You would still be part of the crew during the British GP, but your full focus will be cricket during and off-season.”

There was still something else.

“Why?” I don’t know why it felt like a betrayal, but it did, and it was cutting right through my back.

Hazel sighed, defeated.

“They looked at everything, the effort, the content, and the numbers, and you were among the best. I need you to know this and remember this before you hear the rest.” More unease washed over me. “But in this industry, connection matters, and you come among the best. No matter how much you hide it, it is part of your blood.”

I wanted to scream, but I was sure no voice would come.

Cricket.

It was the one sport I’d always tried to avoid, despite—or maybe because of—how deeply it ran in my family.

When I didn’t say anything, Hazel continued. “You have brought something new with your audience and work to Formula One. The execs love it and so do I, you know that. But they want the new blood to cricket. Right now, our audience is limited and is among those who grew up watching it. And with your connections, family name and work, we are hoping for you to take the lead on it and hopefully bring that to the sport through our network.”

I wanted to throw up.

I wasn’t being let go, and I wasn’t at risk.

I was getting promoted.

“I haven’t paid attention to anything cricket-related in years, you know that. If you asked me to name any two current players—I wouldn’t even be able to do that.”

I could only name one.

Rihaan Patel. My brother.

“You’ll have time to catch up. Their current season ended today with only media week left, and no one expects you to re-prioritise your current role. Once the F season concludes, you’ll be given time to wrap up before moving up and reshuffling. Their off-season will run until January, and then we’d be asking you to cover the Ashes, though we can revisit that and see if you’re comfortable…”

She continued, but I was no longer paying any attention.

The idea of it all made my stomach churn.

I had spent years distancing myself from that world, carving out a niche in sports that had nothing to do with cricket.

And now, I was being pulled back in, expected to catch up and become an expert in a sport I had no interest in. It wasn’t that I disliked cricket—well, maybe I did a little—but it was the memories it dredged up, the complicated emotions tied to it that I had buried long ago.

I shook myself internally. I couldn’t fall into the trap of these thoughts.

“I’ll need to think about it,” My voice was barely steady, the lump in my throat threatening to tighten.

But that wasn’t what Hazel had expected. It was subtle, but I saw it.

“Take until next week, when you’re back from Singapore. I can pass it by us not having a chance to have this conversation. From the report you sent me from today, for everyone else, this was a debrief of your day one of the shoot. But you have to keep this to yourself, whatever your decision will be, until after the redundancies are announced.”

She was giving me a life jacket, and with tears lingering just beneath the surface, attempting to drown me, I took it.

I collected myself before making my way down to the studio team. Making polite conversations that felt habitual, I signed for my collateral, and now I was here.

As the doors triggered again, the chill raised goosebumps all over my body. The sound of my phone ringing was what snapped me out of my daze.

Axel.

Fuck , I forgot he was in the car park waiting for me.

I took another deep breath and rushed out to his car. He was leaning by his boot, clearly waiting for me, but his expression held nothing but patience.

“You okay?” I wasn’t, but I gave him a nod anyway.

Axel was a good friend, but I had never actually shared with him the reasons I had left, and he had never asked.

Once Axel and Vedant entered Formula One, their rivalry was always on. It was what I had been banking on for the last year. He never brought him up in conversations, never asked my opinion on how I thought my brother had done during a race weekend, and I never mentioned it.

Maybe it was the shared memories Ma and I had of going to the races and watching the season together that had kept me from completely leaving the sport or the promise I had made her that didn’t completely erase my relationship with Vedant, but I had kept my distance.

Cricket, on the other hand, was a different story altogether.

I had discovered too many truths to love it the same, or anyone else a part of the world the same.

As we got into the car, the silence welcomed us again, but I wanted anything but that.

I wanted to shake off this feeling, but as I turned to face Axel and pulled myself in a mood to see our group and let loose, his stiffened body made me frown.

“You okay?” It was my turn to ask.

“Yep, I just have a surprise for you, and I just remembered you kind of hate surprises.” His eyes flickered in my direction briefly before returning to the road. He wasn’t nervous, he was scared.

I internally groaned.

I was maxed out on surprises for at least a month. Good or bad.

“Tell me now, then, so it doesn’t have to be a surprise.” I shrugged, but I was bordering irritated. If I could control anything about myself, it would have to be my emotions.

My face tells the story before I do, but even when I want to hide it, my voice control isn’t any better.

“I promised.” I sighed. Axel and his promises were rare because he hated breaking them.

“Promised exactly what?” I was going to find a loophole.

“Can’t say.”

“Who did you make a promise with?”

He opened his mouth for a second before pursing his lips and shaking his head.

“Am I going to be happy or upset with this one? Honest.”

He stared at the road quietly and didn’t speak until we reached a red light.

He looked desperate, but his eyes were full of hope. “I hope it’s happy,” he said.

I glared, feeling a little helpless before an idea ran through me.

“I don’t trust that, so I need a counter-promise.”

A small smile crept up his lips. “Okay, give it to me.”

“If you win the championship, you give me an exclusive.” He was grinning by now and nodded without a second thought.

“You got it.”

My lips tipped up, feeling a little better than before.

Traffic at rush hour always made my skin crawl, which is why I had always preferred taking the tube. But, with the amount of stuff I had on me and with Axel next to me, it would have been nearly impossible to travel safely or quietly.

After quickly dumping my stuff in the apartment, I swapped clothes and touched up, and we were out the door.

The drive to our destination was quick and smooth. Axel wanted us to discuss the major points for the rest of the shoot, and I was more than happy to welcome the distraction.

As we got out of the car, I took in my surroundings, and for the second time that day, I felt betrayed.

It was almost like he sensed my stomach churning; Axel was standing in front of me. I was the first to break eye contact.

I was never going to trust another man again.

“Raina?” He was scared, and I revelled in that for a fleeting second.

But I had nothing to say to him.

I had nothing to ask.

I knew we were at the right place.

This was the surprise.

I stayed quiet as he grabbed my hand and walked us through the hotel parking lot. As we made our way to the lifts, the logos plastered on each car confirmed my thoughts further.

Once inside the lift, he dropped my hand and slid both of them into his pocket, somehow convinced I wouldn’t run away once we entered the hotel.

Axel Beauman was a brave man on the track, and today, I realised that he considered himself a brave man off track, too.

Ding.

As we both got out, we were instantly drowned in the mayhem of chaos.

Cameras, Flashes and Screams.

Everywhere.

Reporters, Fans, Team Personnel, and everyone who had a connection to get in were inside the hotel, and a single group captured all of their attention.

Cricketers.

Axel brought me to the Championship after-party.