Chapter 6
Peter
As I park my Audi and see that all the trailers have left, I curse out loud.
“Fuck.”
The team called an emergency meeting this morning, and since I’m determined to show Arthur that I’m serious about this team and our way forward, I couldn’t bail, even if I really wanted to.
The meeting shouldn’t even be considered an emergency as it was just another round of the suits discussing our next step to clean up my image.
One night out on town, and they’re all panicking. Wondering if they’ll have another set of pictures with coke on their hands.
The fact that I tested negative for drug use seems to go unnoticed.
They could have just asked me about my night, and I’d happily tell them that I didn’t have an ounce of alcohol, as per usual, and my attention was divided to the stunning Molly May.
I was mesmerized by her and how she moved out on the dance floor.
When she slipped out, I knew I stood no chance.
There wasn’t a chance in hell that I wouldn’t take the opportunity to seek her out.
And what a meeting it became.
Whenever I’m around her, the rest of the world seems to fade out.
Talking with her in that hallway was no different.
While I thought of her as more, I didn’t realise just how much more she is.
She’s obviously a stunner to look at.
But she’s also fierce and strong, never backing down from the challenges I throw her way.
I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to kiss someone as much as her. But I also don’t want our first kiss to be under the influence. Substances and alcohol can ruin every important moment.
I’ve experienced that firsthand.
Growing up with a father who first turned to alcohol, before it really went bad, then he started taking pills.
After that, it all went to hell.
My mom and I tried everything in our power to help him, but addiction is a nasty disease.
It doesn’t just suck the life out of the addict; it ruins every relationship around them as well.
One day, my mother decided that we either had to save ourselves or be dragged down together with him. We packed our bags and ran, but he always comes back, especially to me.
Access to me means access to money.
For drugs.
I just know that one day I’ll be partly responsible for his death as it will likely be my money he used for the fatal dose.
Bearing my history in mind, I didn’t want my first kiss with Molly to be tainted by any alcohol.
Usually, I don’t mind making out with girls who are under the influence as long as they’re not drunk out of their minds.
With Molly, though, I don’t want that.
I want her to be one hundred percent present when I kiss her.
I shouldn’t even be thinking about this.
Making that promise was probably a huge mistake.
But I can’t force myself to regret it either.
When I finally pull up to the track, all the media trailers, including Star News have already taken off, meaning Molly is gone.
The disappointment is heavy in my stomach, and I curse the suits for delaying my morning this much.
Luckily, our next race weekend is already coming up this week, so I won’t have to wait too long before I see her again.
～
On Tuesday, I’m playing video games together with Ryan when he asks me how my talk with Arthur went.
My initial impression of Arthur hasn’t weakened; it’s gotten even better. Each time we meet, I feel like I’m meeting with a partner rather than a boss.
After years in this sport, I’ve gotten accustomed to being told where to be, at what time, and what to wear.
In the beginning, I thought that this was the only way for me to have a shot at this F1 life. Terrified anyone would dig up my family history and kick me to the curb.
As time went on, it only got worse.
I never stood up for myself, and when I finally had enough, I acted out, not knowing how to swallow my pride.
Instead, I turned to partying and girls, never drugs or too much alcohol, fucking horrified if I’ve inherited the addiction gene from my father.
Besides Ryan, I don’t really have any friends.
I’ll hang out with some of the mechanics, but the dynamic will always be a little weird, considering our positions in the team.
That’s different with Ryan.
He knew me long before I became an F1 driver, and I can trust him to always tell me things as they are.
The closest thing I have to a friend, besides Ryan, is Arthur.
And maybe Molly?
But I wouldn’t exactly call her a friend.
She’s just more, in every way.
“It went well. He told me he’d preferred if I talked to him first the next time,” I say, grateful to have a new owner on the team who seems determined to work in the team’s interests rather than earning as many dollars as possible.
“I like the guy. He’s stopped by the garage several times asking if we need any new tools or anything. He genuinely seems interested in the team and its people.”
I don’t think I ever saw the last owner near the garage. He was always huddled up in an office, trying to land the next big brand deal and counting dollar bills.
The fact that Arthur doesn’t ever wear a suit also highlights just how different he is from the regular people on top.
Whenever Ryan and I shit-talk the suits, he’s not part of that.
“Yeah, hopefully he’s what the team needs,” I say, feeling like we’re finally on a good path for this season.
I haven’t had a race win yet, but I’ve come close in the first two races, each time landing on the podium.
The win is coming. It’s only a matter of time.
“And it’s not exactly a stellar mechanic we lost either,” Ryan sniggers, probably happy to be rid of Jeremy.
I know I am.
“No, I think my mom knows more about cars than him.”
At the mention of my mom, Ryan asks me how she is.
When we packed up our lives and moved to another state to escape my father, it was just the two of us for several years.
Then she met her new husband and his family. Even though they’ve always treated me well, I’ll never be a part of that family. And for my mom, I think seeing me is a harsh reminder of the life she tried to run from.
It doesn’t exactly help that I share my father’s dirty blond hair colour and light eyes.
The drugs have made him into a fragile figure, but our looks continue to resemble one another.
My mom was there for my breakthrough in Formula 1, but when she realised I was doing well on my own, she withdrew from my life.
I’ll see her around once a year, but in between those visits, we barely talk.
I try to keep up with her whereabouts, a silly part of me hoping she’ll come visit me when the F1 travels to Miami. She lives there with her new family, which isn’t that new, but it will always feel like that for me.
Maybe that’s why I cling to this new friendship with Arthur.
He’s the first adult to provide me with support and guidance.
Where everyone else simply believes the stories printed in the press, he always asks me for my side of the story. And even better, he seems to believe me, which isn’t something I’ve had for the last few years.
I mean, sure, I’ve given my team plenty of fuel to light several fires. I won’t deny that.
But when it comes to the bad stuff, they’ve been quick to assume the worst and draw their own conclusions.
Most nights in the clubs, I’m sober. Simply looking for a company to fill the void inside me. Being with women isn’t a crime, but they make it sound like it is.
These days, though, it’s only one woman who holds my attention.
A woman I really shouldn’t be pursuing.
I’ve considered using my contacts to find her number. At the same time, I want to see her reaction in real life.
Will she remember my promise?
She didn’t seem drunk, but for all I know, she’s one of the people who blacks out from a glass of wine.
Something tells me she’ll remember every word, but she might be tempted to pretend that she doesn’t.
Her outfit alone revealed that Molly was feeling bold Sunday night.
She was fucking magnificent.
I’m definitely hoping she’ll want me to fulfil my promise.
One thing is for sure: Thursday can’t get here fast enough.
～
We’ve made it to Canada—the scene for the upcoming race weekend.
When I wake up on Thursday, I’m buzzing, feeling the excitement of hunting down Molly today.
Normally, I would probably feel the effects of travelling across time zones and being tired as hell but today is different.
The media team should have arrived.
I don’t exactly know what my plan of action is.
It’s not like I can kiss her out in public if she’s stationed at work, for example.
I don’t care for what people would have to say, but something tells me Molly wouldn’t appreciate the paddock seeing her kiss the bad boy.
I also don’t want an audience.
Maybe I should go to her trailer, hope to catch her alone there.
But again, what if someone else opens that door?
What the hell am I supposed to tell them then?
“Hi, I’m here to make out with Molly. Excuse me while I go find her.”
Again, I don’t think she would appreciate that.
I find myself caring a lot about what she would like. Not wanting to upset her.
She’s slowly turning me obsessive, but I figure it’s better to obsess over her than a lot of other shit I could be doing.
I park my car in the parking lot before I start walking towards the media pen, trying to keep my head low, not really in the mood to talk with anyone other than the beauty I’m seeking.
When I spot the Star News team but not Molly, my anticipation rises.
Maybe I’ll find her somewhere alone after all.
I know she usually works in the editor’s room, so I set out to find that.
The good thing about being an F1 driver is that no one really questions you when you’re wandering around places I have no business being.
When I find a door that says “Editor’s room—Star News,” I feel like I’ve won the lottery.
I hope she’s ready for me.