Chương 15: Bad Premonition
When watching the practice session in F1, Senna did not need to go to the audience seats above the P room. With his status and connections, he could enter the Mercedes P room openly.
However, he could only stay in the VIP area of the P room. After all, he was not a staff member, and entering the internal meeting would hinder the work of others. Nonetheless, Senna could go directly to the track engineer and sit with them to watch Bottas's racing data.
Even when Bottas was debugging his car, Senna could get close to Bottas's car and watch.
Bottas did not mind Senna being on the side. He chose a car set by himself. When the technicians began to adjust Bottas's car, Bottas would have a short window period.
During this window period, Bottas even asked Senna if he could understand the intention of his adjustment.
If Senna answered correctly, Bottas would not hesitate to praise him.
If Senna answered incorrectly, Bottas would patiently explain to Senna the reason for his setting. It can be said that he was extremely tolerant of Senna, a junior driver.
However, Senna recalled the fear when he was called up by the teacher to answer questions when he was in high school.
Although he knew that Bottas did this to promote him and was optimistic about and encouraging the new generation of drivers, this feeling of dreaming back to school still made Senna, who grew up in an exam-oriented education system, feel fear from the bottom of his heart.
Fortunately, it was now the second practice period, and Bottas was very busy. He just took the time to teach Senna in his spare moments. Most of the time, he was still busy with his work content and entered the track test.
Senna also mixed in the Mercedes P room until the end of the practice session.
During this period, Senna discovered many details that could not be seen in the VIP area, such as the driver's driving curve diagram, vehicle status data feedback, the driver's onboard camera, and the debugging method of F1 racing.
These things were inspiring to Senna. Although these were just some data and tables, by applying these data and tables to the track, Senna could understand Bottas's general driving style on the track.
After the FP, the paddock was abuzz with excitement as fans and celebrities gathered for a special event organized by Mercedes. It was a day filled with meet-and-greets, photo opportunities, and most excitingly, hot laps around the circuit with none other than Senna at the wheel.
Senna arrived early, donning his Mercedes gear and flashing his signature confident smile. The fans' enthusiasm was infectious, and he felt a renewed surge of energy as he prepared to give them an unforgettable experience. Among the VIP guests, there were several well-known celebrities, adding an extra layer of glamour to the event.
As the hot laps began, Senna expertly manoeuvred the high-performance Mercedes AMG GT around the track, thrilling his passengers with each lap. The screams of excitement and laughter from the VIPs were a testament to his skill and the sheer joy of the experience.
As Senna finished his last lap with a fan and brought the car back into the pit area, he noticed a familiar figure waving at him from the edge of the crowd. His heart skipped a beat as he tried to place where he had seen her before. Her face struck a chord in his memory, but he couldn't quite remember where or when they had crossed paths. Intrigued and slightly nervous, he made his way over to her.
"Hi there," Senna greeted, his voice friendly but curious. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"
Deva smiled, her eyes sparkling. "I don't think we've officially met. I'm Deva," she extended her hand.
Senna shook her hand, feeling a strange mix of excitement and awkwardness. "Nice to meet you, Deva. I'm Senna. Are you a fan of racing?"
Deva nodded, her smile widening. "Yes, I've been following the sport for a while. I actually just finished a photoshoot in Milan for Armani, and I decided to come to the race."
"Armani, huh? That's impressive," Senna replied, genuinely impressed. "What brings you to this particular race?"
"I wanted to experience it firsthand, and I've heard so much about the atmosphere here," Deva said, her cheeks tinged with a hint of blush. "Plus, it's a great way to unwind after a busy week."
Senna laughed softly, trying to ease the tension he felt. "Well, you picked a great race to attend. It's always exciting here. And I have to say, it's a pleasant surprise to see you."
Deva looked down briefly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Thank you. It's a bit surreal to meet you in person. I've seen you race, and you're quite amazing on the track."
"Thanks, that means a lot," Senna said, feeling a warm glow from her compliment. "So, do you have any favourites in the race today?"
Deva tilted her head playfully. "Well, I might be a little biased, but I was hoping to see you perform well. You have a lot of fans out there, including me."
Senna's heart skipped a beat at her words. "Really? That's great to hear. I'll do my best not to disappoint."
There was a brief, comfortable silence between them, filled with the ambient noise of the paddock.
"Would you like to take a look around?" Senna offered, Senna has never been the person who offers his time to invest in relationships his whole life has been dedicated to racing but for some reason the girl he met today or past because she looked so familiar intrigues him. Since he was done for the day he offered to take her on a tour in the hope of realizing the feelings he feels right now. "I could show you some behind-the-scenes stuff if you're interested."
Deva's eyes lit up. "I'd love that. It's not every day you get a tour from a racer."
Senna and Deva walked through the bustling paddock, the hum of engines and the chatter of team members creating a lively atmosphere around them. Senna pointed out various parts of the setup, eager to share his world with her.
"So, this is where all the magic happens," Senna said, gesturing to the row of garages. "Each team has their own garage where they work on the cars, make adjustments, and prepare for the race."
Deva looked around in awe. "It's amazing to see everything up close. I've only ever watched races on TV. It's a completely different experience being here."
Senna nodded. "Yeah, there's a lot that goes on behind the scenes. The mechanics, the engineers, everyone plays a crucial role. It's like a big family."
"I can see that," Deva said, smiling as she observed the camaraderie among the team members. "It must be intense, though. The pressure to perform must be huge."
"It is," Senna admitted. "But it's also what makes it so exhilarating. Every second counts, and you have to trust your team completely."
They stopped in front of Senna's garage, where his car was being worked on by a team of engineers. "This is my baby," Senna said with a proud smile. "The car I'll be racing in tomorrow."
Deva's eyes widened. "It's beautiful. And it looks so... complicated."
Senna chuckled. "It is. But once you get used to it, it becomes second nature. The engineers do most of the heavy lifting when it comes to the technical stuff. I just drive."
"I'm sure there's more to it than that," Deva said, giving him a playful nudge. "I've seen your races. You make it look effortless, but I know it takes a lot of skill and precision."
"Thanks," Senna said, feeling a warm glow from her compliment. "It's a lot of hard work, but it's worth it. The thrill of the race, the competition, the feeling of pushing yourself to the limit – there's nothing like it."
Deva nodded, her eyes shining with admiration. "I can tell you're passionate about it. It's inspiring to see someone so dedicated to their dream."
Senna smiled, feeling a connection growing between them. "What about you? You mentioned you were in Milan for a photoshoot. That sounds pretty exciting too."
"It is," Deva said, her face lighting up. "I love fashion and modeling. It's a different kind of thrill, I guess. Being in front of the camera, creating something beautiful – it's an amazing feeling."
"Sounds like we both have our own ways of chasing excitement," Senna said. "Different worlds, but similar in some ways."
"Yeah," Deva agreed. "I guess we do."
They continued their tour, with Senna explaining the different aspects of the pit area – the control centre where strategies were planned, the tyre stacks ready for quick changes, and the spare parts and tools organized meticulously. Deva listened with genuine interest, asking questions and sharing her own experiences in the fashion world.
As they neared the end of the tour, Senna felt a bit reluctant to part ways. "I'm glad you came today," he said. "It's nice to share this with someone genuinely interested."
"I'm glad too," Deva replied. "It's been amazing seeing this side of racing. Thank you for showing me around."
"Anytime," Senna said, smiling. "And if you ever want another tour or have any questions, just let me know."
Senna realises she is different from other girls who approached him for his face or for his fame in the past. So Senna made sure to always keep a distance from women even during his photoshoot the photographers often complained about this.
But, Senna can say that she is a girl really interested in this sport and genuinely enjoying the tour with him.
"Maybe she is different," Senna thought to himself.
Deva grinned. "I'll take you up on that. And maybe you can tell me more about your racing strategies over that coffee we talked about if you want."
Senna left a short smile "Sure".
After his work was done, Senna returned back to his hotel to prepare for his race tomorrow.
In the quiet of his hotel room, Senna sat at a sleek desk, illuminated by the soft glow of his laptop screen. The evening was calm, the only sounds were the distant hum of the city outside and the occasional rustle of pages as he flipped through his race data.
Senna was meticulously reviewing his performance, analyzing telemetry data, lap times, and tyre degradation charts. He was preparing for the upcoming race, ensuring every detail was scrutinized to maintain his edge. The numbers and graphs painted a picture of his consistent dominance on the track, a testament to his hard work and dedication.
After a couple of hours, he decided to take a break. Leaning back in his chair, he stretched and reached for his phone. A quick glance at social media usually served as a distraction, a brief escape from the relentless focus on racing. However, tonight was different.
As he scrolled through his feed, Senna noticed an influx of comments about his recent performances. Many were congratulatory, fans expressing their admiration for his skills and success. But among the sea of compliments, a few negative remarks caught his eye.
One comment in particular stood out: "Senna is just the king of F2. Honestly, there's no real talent in F2 this season. The real stars like Leclerc and Russell have already moved to F1. Senna is just a tall man among dwarfs."
He clicked on the comment, revealing a thread of replies from critics who echoed similar sentiments. "The competition this season is weak," one said. "If there were real contenders, Senna wouldn't be winning so easily," said another.
For a moment, Senna was taken aback. He hadn't anticipated such criticism. His performance had been nothing short of stellar, and he had worked tirelessly to achieve his results. The negative comments stung, not because they doubted his talent, but because they discredited the efforts and abilities of his fellow drivers as well.
Senna took a deep breath and closed his eyes, trying to shake off the negativity. He knew that racing, like any other sport, had its critics and naysayers. It was part of the package. But what irked him the most was the unfair dismissal of the hard work and dedication of everyone in F2.
Determined to keep his focus, Senna set his phone aside and returned to his race data. He reminded himself that his primary goal was to be the best driver he could be, regardless of what others said. The data didn't lie—his lap times, his consistency, and his ability to push the car to its limits were proof of his skill.
However, the comments lingered in his mind. As he resumed his analysis, he couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of determination. He would prove his critics wrong, not just by winning races, but by demonstrating that F2 was filled with talented and capable drivers. Senna knew that true excellence wasn't just about silencing detractors; it was about continuously pushing the boundaries and setting new standards.
With a final glance at his race data, Senna decided to call it a night. Tomorrow was another day, another opportunity to show the world what he and his fellow drivers were capable of. As he lay down to sleep, he resolved to let his performance on the track speak louder than any comment online ever could.
However, the next day, when Senna opened his eyes, he noticed something was off.
The air conditioner in the hotel room had turned off automatically, and the slight humming sound, which served as a comforting white noise, had disappeared. Yet, the room didn't feel stuffy; it was cool, almost eerily so.
Senna was slightly puzzled, and then an ominous premonition surged within him. He lifted his head from the cozy spot he had nestled into and rubbed his eyes, heading to the window without even putting on his clothes. Drawing back the curtains, the outside world came into view.
The sky was overcast, with thick white clouds blanketing the peaks of the mountains surrounding the Red Bull Ring. A grey curtain of rain was clearly visible at the juncture between the peaks and the clouds. The entire forest looked cleaner and greener after being washed by the rain, creating the illusion of a fairy-tale kingdom. The Red Bull Ring, which had basked in sunshine the previous day, was now enveloped in rain.
Senna frowned as he took in the scene. While he was a master at racing in the rain, often drawing comparisons to the legendary Ayrton Senna for his prowess on a wet track, the sight of today's rain gave him a headache. He knew that despite his skills, racing in the rain brought its own set of challenges and unpredictability.
Senna's mind was further unsettled by the negative comments he'd read the previous night. While the praise had been overwhelming, the few negative remarks stood out starkly, like tall men among a crowd of dwarfs. Comments suggesting he was merely the king of a weak F2 season, that he hadn't faced real competition like Leclerc or Russell, gnawed at him.
Shaking off his thoughts, Senna prepared to leave for the circuit. Despite his reputation as a rain master, the negative comments still lingered in his mind, casting a shadow over his usual confidence.
Arriving at the Red Bull Ring, the rain continued to pour, creating puddles on the track and adding to the tense atmosphere. As Senna walked through the paddock, he overheard snippets of conversations about the weather and the challenges it posed. He made his way to the Mercedes P room, where Rene greeted him with a firm handshake.
"Ready for a wet race?" Rene asked, his tone light but his eyes serious.
Senna nodded. "Always."
"Good. Just remember, this is your chance to show everyone what you're made of, rain or shine," Rene said, giving Senna a reassuring pat on the back.
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