On the Grid

The light of the Melbourne sky burned into the team garage.

Inside, Nick sat low in the cockpit, his helmet shielding him from most of the glare that was coming in from the open garage door. The helmet also muffled the world around him, yet engine noise, radio chatter, even the faint scent of burnt rubber and fuel still managed to reach his senses.

The Enstone TS car sat low to the ground, resembling a beast dressed for occasion. It’s bodywork was finished in a deep obsidian black, broken up by veins of gold that accented the car’s many lines with elegance. The nose of the car tapered to a clean and narrow point, ending in an aggressive yet sleek front wing. Along the sidepods, gold pinstripes ran along the length of the car, with sponsor logos emblazoned in the same gold color. The logos were minimal and tastefully woven along the car, clearly having been designed to be aesthetically pleasing, rather than a billboard.

This was not a car merely built to be fast.

It was car built to be iconic, to be remembered by fans of every team.

From inside the cockpit, Nick’s racing suit was wrapped in black carbon and gold accents. The halo frame of the car arched above him, accented in gold pinstriping and sponsor logos. The steering when was compact yet marked everywhere with buttons that surrounded a central display.

The engine turned over, barking to life behind Nick. The loud and harsh noises of the engine echoed off the walls of the garage, much to the delight of everyone.

“Nick, radio check.”

“Loud and clear,” he replied.

As Nick eased on the pedals, the car rolled forward. Crossing the threshold of the garage, sunlight began flashing across the gold pinstripes as he made his way down and out the pit lane. One by one, other garage doors up and down the lane began sending out their cars, sending out a rainbow of machines onto the pit lane.

Nick steadied his hands as he exited the put lane for the out-lap.

“Alright,” came the engineer’s voice over the radio. “This is your first qualifying session. You are going to be doing two push laps. Track temps are climbing and tires are in the window, so don’t cook them.”

“Copy.”

“The simulations and data from practice indicate that the car is performing solidly. Hunker down and give us a good qualifying.”

The surrounding scenery blurred past as Nick drove on the circuit. Wide straights, unforgiving walls, and high-speed corners made Melbourne a track that punished hesitation.

Nick was gentle with the car through the first ten turns, weaving slightly to warm up the tires and braking just late enough to test the car. The car was responding instantly, the rear planted enough to just skirt the line of instability without actually slipping.

“Good,” Nick thought. “Looks like I can give it 100% today.”

“Gap ahead is clear,” the radio signaled. “Clear to push.”

Nick took a breath as he came out of Turns 13 and 14.

This was the push lap. Coming out of Turn 14, he slammed on the throttle.

The Enstone car surged forward, engine screaming as the revs climbed to a screeching peak. Turn One came rushing at him, and Nick braked late not with arrogance, but pure confidence.

And the car stuck.

From the pit wall, the team saw black and gold lines flashing along the curbs as he clipped each and every apex perfectly.

Sector one flowed into sector two, Nick chaining corner after corner with impeccable rhythm. Nick’s thinking entered an almost trance-like state, everything in his mind narrowing to an inhuman level of instinct—steering angle, pedal pressure, controlling the rear to have it slip just enough to rotate before straightening.

“Purple first sector,” the engineer said, almost unable to contain the surprise in his voice.

Nick didn’t react.

He was currently throwing the car into the next corner.

The car felt light through the high-speed corners, floating almost, with the halo above Nick framing the sky in flickers of blue and white. The wind roared all around him, drowned out by the scream from the engine as he hammered the throttle.

Turn Eleven passed.

Nick committed.

The rear twitched—just a hair—and Nick caught it instantly, hands calm. The nose of he car darted toward the exit curb.

“Nice save,” came the radio. “Keep it smooth.”

The final sector rushed up fast. Nick squeezed every inch out of the track limits, brushing the curbs with a blend of aggression and precision.

Across the line.

“P6,” the engineer said. “That is P6.”

Nick exhaled for what felt like the first time in minutes.

P6 was not bad.

But it was not safe either.

Nick continued pushing, the tires having enough grip for one more push lap. Around him, other cars screamed as they set their own lap times, each one chasing the same times he was.

“Alright, let’s go for one more,” the engineer stated. “Track’s improving.”

Nick glanced down at the display on his steering wheel. Tires were still alive, which meant he still had grip.

“Copy, pushing one more time.”

As he brought the speed back up, something flickered through his mind uninvited.

A hand tightening around his.

A quiet voice by the river.

“Nick… did you ever wish things were different?”

He pushed it away.

Nick began attacking each corner harder this lap.

Later on the brakes, earlier on the throttle, closer to the wall than before.

The car followed his every movement, negotiating every corner with Nick’s willingness to risk himself.

And Nick answered without hesitation each time.

Before he knew it, the second lap ended.

A moment of silence stretched.

Then—

“P5.”

The words hit harder than expected.

“P5,” the engineer repeated, disbelief creeping in. “That’s provisional P5.”

Nick tightened his grip on the wheel.

He stared straight ahead, the noises around him shut out.

He was a rookie in his first qualifying, yet if it held he would start in the top 5 for his first race.

“Bring it in,” came the call from the radio. “Great job kid, that was…really strong!”

Nick finished his return lap and guided the car into the pit lane, the sunlight glinting off the black and gold as he rolled past the garages.

As the engine wound down, he allowed himself one small, private thought.

“I wonder if she’s watching this”

Stopping in front of his garage, his car was quickly ushered into the garage bay by the pit crew. Once in place, Nick gazed at the garage monitor. On it, the timing screen flickered constantly—names shuffling up and down the list.

Nick got out of the car and took his helmet off, the light pink helmet featuring white gradients that really stood out against the team’s black and gold colors. Tying his fireproof top around his waist, Nick stood beside the car, his sweat cooling against his skin as the afternoon breeze swept through the garage.

“Okay,” Marcus muttered beside him, arms crossed. “This is the worst part.”

Nick stayed silent, his eyes glued to the screen.

The other teams’ cars screamed past outside, engines echoing through the pit lane as the final runs began. One by one, the front runners went for their final laps: Scuderia Rosso, Silver Arc, and TaurusForte. Streaks of Red, Silver, and Purple, respectively, sped down the track, taking corners as aggressively as possible and absolutely hammering down the straights.

Nick’s lap sat there.

Unmoving.

P5.

“It’s the final minute,” the engineer said, voice neutral. “If someone is going to beat your time, it’ll be right here.”

A blue and white car crossed the line.

P5 held.

Another car, dressed in pastel pink, followed.

Still P5.

The last car, one of the Scuderia Rosso cars, was flying. Purple in sector one, purple in sector two.

The garage went silent as the qualifying time went down to zero.

Nick leaned forward as the sector three time flashed.

That last red car?

P6.

Nick stared at the screen, unmoving,

“Sessions over,” the engineer announced, a grin breaking through. “Than’s P5, fifth on the grid.”

The garage erupted in applause.

A hand slapped his shoulder, followed by loud cheering in his ear. Even Marcus let out a laugh, hand running through his hair.

“P5,” Marcus repeated, “Nick, you just qualified top 5 in your first race!”

Nick finally took his eyes off the screen and looked at the car sitting quietly behind him. He could still feel the emanating warmth from the engine, though it was comforting.

Like it had expected this result all along.

Nick swallowed.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “Guess I did.”

The garage was still buzzing when a familiar presence cut through the noise.

Jonathan Reyes stepped into the garage, suit jacket already off, sleeves rolled and expression unreadable. He stepped in front of Nick.

“P5,” Reyes said, “Congratulations kid, that was some good driving there”

Nick instinctively straightened.

“No slipstream tricks or yellow flags,” Reyes continued. “No luck, just damn good driving”

Nick Nodded. “Yes, thanks sir!”

Reyes’ gaze flicked briefly toward the black-and-gold machine behind them.

“Looks like we have a good car this time everyone. Let’s continue to support Nick and push development on the car going forward”

He looked back at Nick, his blue eyes cold yet focused.

“Tomorrow will be an even greater challenge,” Reyes went on “Dirty air. Strategy. Defensive driving. Nothing you haven’t faced before, but no one is going to go easy on you kid. Bring it home tomorrow, you’re in a good spot.”

Nick met his gaze, his eyes full of fire. “I will.”

“Welcome to Formula One Nick.”

The weight of the words settled deeper than the cheers ever could.

(Later that evening)

The hotel room was quiet.

Nick stood at the window, observing the city lights beneath him. Melbourne was humming softly outside, the normal sounds of cars and distant voices creating a low murmur of a city settling down for the night.

He loosened his collar and let the jacket he was wearing fall onto the back of a chair.

P5.

Nick picked up the phone that had been resting on the table and immediately plopped onto the bed. The adrenaline from earlier had finally drained away, leaving behind fatigue and nervousness.

Both of those feelings were immediately ignored following the buzzing of Nick’s phone.

<- I just finished practice.

Nick smiled. It was a message from Areum, who was back in Korea continuing her preparation for her upcoming world tour.

-> Worth it?

<- Very much so.

-> So…P5. Is that what you and your team were hoping?

<- I mean, it’s pretty good. We were hoping for at least Top 10 for the first few races, but to be Top 5 is definitely a good start.

Nick exhaled, leaning back on his hands.

-> Well that’s great then. How did it feel, to get that result?

A pause in the messaging. Then—

<- It hasn’t exactly sunk in yet. But at the same time, it feels like immense pressure on me to deliver a great result tomorrow.

-> Well, that’s normal right? Big moments don’t usually feel that way until later

Nick glanced toward the team polo that was hanging in the closet, the gold lettering shimmering in the dim light of the hotel room.

<- Yeah, it is.

<- Right now, it just feels like tomorrow is going to be…a lot. And that I’m not actually able to process it all

Three dots appeared, disappeared, then reappeared again.

-> Are you scared?

The question was simple, yet disarming.

Nick stared at it longer than he realized.

<- A little.

<- But it’s the kind of scary I’ve always wanted.

Areum’s reply came quickly.

-> That’s good.

-> That means you’re exactly where you are supposed to be.

<- Sounds like something you’ve said to yourself before

-> More times than I can count.

He chuckled softly.

<- Well tomorrow can go any number of ways. The race is long, it can get messy. Other people’s mistakes can cost me.

-> Well, I don’t know anything about being a professional racer, but I know you. And I know that you’ll find a way to pull through. You made it this far on your merits, don’t discount yourself.

The words settled deep inside.

Nick stared up at the ceiling,

<- Reyes told me today that people have now noticed me, and that they won’t be letting up on me on track tomorrow.

-> Well, if it makes you feel better, I will be watching you tomorrow.

<- Really?

-> I'll be pretending not to, but yes.

Nick laughed at the joke.

<- Well then, I’ll make sure to make it exciting for you

->  Just come back safe. That’s all I want.

<- After the race, I’ll text you. So I can verify if you really did watch the race.

-> Good. Sleep tight then Nick. You need your rest. Good night.

Nick stared at the screen for a few seconds longer.

Then, he put the phone down on the table next to him and turned off the light.

Tomorrow, the world was going to see the debut of Nick Young, and find out if he really has what it takes to survive in the racing world.