𝚂𝙷𝙾𝙾𝚃 𝚃𝙾 𝚃𝙷𝚁𝙸𝙻𝙻 ,, formula 1: drive to survive

15

2019 Season

SHANGHAI, CHINA

CHINESE GRAND PRIX

DANILL GETS WORRIED.

The race had been a total disaster. Danill Kvyat's car was wrecked, and the mechanics were going to have to put in overtime to get it ready for Azerbaijan. The pressure was starting to get to Dakota, but she was determined not to show it, if only to spite parent company Red Bull.

She refused to let Christian Horner get her down. The nineteen-year-old could count on both hands the amount of times that Christian Horner had said something to the media about how he thought Mac was too young and too inexperienced to be working in a 'big league pit crew'.

"Fuck!" The girl shouted, slicing her hand open on a jagged piece of the Toro Rosso's crushed sidepod. 

In Dakota's mind, there was no room for injury. She wrapped her hand in a clean rag and went back to looking at the gearbox. She prayed the most integral parts were okay, fearing a grid eantly for the following Grand Prix.

"Dude," Alexander Albon began, nudging his teammate in the side. "is she okay?"

Danill turned around, breaking from his conversation with the technical director to look at Dakota. When he saw the bloodsoaked rag on Dakota's hand, he knew something was wrong.

The Mac that he has seen over the past few days was not the Mac that he knew.

Dakota couldn't think straight, even with blood pouring down her arm and underneath the fireproof overalls that the pit crew were dressed in. She didn't even hear Danill's voice as he grabbed her by the arm and tried to get her away from the race car.

"Mac, you're bleeding!" The Russian insisted every time Dakota tried to break away from him. "Let me take a look."

"I have to fix the car, Dan."

"Let somebody else deal with it." They were in the kitchen of the Toro Rosso hospitality suite now,  and Danill had unwound the bloodstained rag from the mechanic's hand, placing Dakota's hand palm-up in the sink so that the water hit the cut directly.

Dakota cursed, attempting to pull away from the water, but Danill held her hand there.

The look he shot her made her sick to her stomach with regret. "Dakota, you need to start taking better care of yourself. What's happening to you?" 

Dakota crumbled, tears falling down her grease-stained face as she brought her free hand up to wipe the tears from her face.

"Dakota?" Danill's voice was softer this time. He worried that he had pushed her too hard, that something was seriously wrong. "Are you okay?" He turned off the water and started wrapping her hand in gauze.

"I don't know how much longer I can do this." Koda's voice was shaky. "If I stop moving, stop working or fixing things, I start thinking, and when I do that, I feel like i'm drowning."

"Oh, Mac." He'd finished wrapping up her hand, now wrapping the fragile teenager in his arms.

"I can't do this. The jetlag, the pointless races, quite literally, might I add. I haven't dated in months, it's a little hard when you travel this much. I don't know how you drivers manage it. I haven't seen the inside of my house in what feels like forever, and I feel quite literally lonelier than ever."

Danill let her go and gestured to the suite's couch. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Dakota nodded, a few strands of dyed hair falling in front of her eyes. "Actually, I think I do." He unzipped her overalls, shedding the thick fabric and tying it off at her waist before sitting next to the driver.

"Why does nobody from Red Bull want me here?"

There it was.

The real reason Dakota had been so off.

And he knew the reason why.

"Lance was seventeen when he started driving at Williams, Max and Daniel were teenagers when they started at Red Bull. So why am I too inexperienced to be working in a garage if they were deemed okay to drive when they were younger than I am?"

"I really don't know, Mac. But you have to stop listening to Horner, it's not going to get you anywhere."

"I miss Pierre."

Danill was confused. "He's still around, just in a different garage."

"I know, and I'm happy he's getting his shot at Red Bull, but I miss having him here, with me. I miss joking with him and messing around before the race starts. Hell, I even miss it when he ruffles my fucking hair."

"Did you ever think you might have had a crush on him?"

Dakota burst out laughing. "A crush on Pierre Gasly? You really think that little of me? No, we know each other too well for that. He's a little too old for me, anyways. Maybe I did when I started here, but now he's like a brother. And I don't know if I can work at the paddock if he's not nearby."

Danill raised an eyebrow "You know what you need?"

"I swear to god, Kvyat, if you tell me that I need to get laid-"

"No. You need to relax, to decompress. Yes, getting laid would probably help, but I know you;re not like that. So, I have the next best thing."

"Really?"

"Yes. Metallica ticket for Sao Paulo, if you think you can hold on until the end of the year."

Dakota leaned forward, staring at the white bandage on her hand. "Okay. The end of the season. But I don't know if I can do another."

Danill held her bandaged hand. "We burn that bridge when we get to it. One day at a time, Mac."

Three seasons later and everything had changed: Danill was gone, his girlfriend was with Max Verstappen. Pierre lost his Red Bull seat but was still trying to claw his way back to the Big Three. 

Dakota had a bigger role in the team, but she still felt as lost as ever.