Azerbaijan
April 10 - April 13
Nothing will ever make Regulus like media duty. He absolutely loathes the idea of pretending to be enthusiastic for something he is not, and the questions are usually just invasive.
What Regulus dislikes even more is the Netflix crew.
Netflix doesn’t care for accuracy. No, they care about drama. They create drama when there is none, just to make interesting episodes of Drive to Survive.
If you were to ask Regulus, he’d say there is enough content on F1 to make an interesting show without creating conflicts that hold no grounds. As it stands, the crew will be following his team this weekend and they’ve been following him since the moment he left his hotel room, and he’s quite done with them.
The interaction with fans is the only time Regulus feels like he can relax. There’s no one he needs to look tough for, because all the fans want him to do is smile and pose for pictures while he signs things. Of course, they might ask him questions, but he’s never had a reason to lie to them. All he has to do is redirect some questions, and they always laugh it up as a team secret when he can’t answer something.
With the fans, Regulus also gets a chance to breathe without his father looming behind him.
Orion Black is a man who doesn’t tolerate anything but perfection. He won’t show anything to the outside world that would put him or his team in a bad light, and he expects his team to do the same.
He, also, expects his son to do his every bidding.
If Orion says Regulus needs to win a race, he does so. If Orion says Regulus needs to fight dirty, he does so. There’s no acceptance for arguing back or asking about a reason.
This season, Orion wants to continue Noir Racing’s streak of the constructors’ championship as well as the drivers’, which means there’s an intense pressure on Regulus’ shoulders, because he’s their top driver. It used to be Bellatrix, and it should’ve been Sirius, but the guy simply left after his first season and never looked back.
Regulus hates him for that. He hates his brother for leaving the family, dumping all the pressure at Regulus’ feet for him to pick up.
It’s been three years since Sirius abandoned him without warning, yet to Regulus it still feels fresh. He remembers the day very vividly. How Sirius had spoken to a reporter about how well his last race went, how it gave him his first world title after an intense fight with Puttar. When the reporter asked if the same fight will occur the next season, Sirius promptly announced he wouldn’t be returning.
He hadn’t told anyone. Not the team, not his family. Not Regulus.
No, Regulus found out as he watched from the paddock. He’d seen how Orion’s face turned pale before it turned red in rage.
Sirius didn’t say goodbye. He just packed his bags and flew back to England with Puttar, not even looking back at his little brother, who’d been yelling his name.
Netflix had a field day with that one, and Regulus has hated them ever since.
Sometimes, he wishes he could leave, too. The burdens of being Noir Racing’s top driver are heavy. Regulus thinks he can handle it, but he would’ve loved it if he could share the load with Sirius.
Now, Regulus keeps himself going with the goal of beating Aunt Lucretia’s record of seven world titles. If this season works out the way he hopes it will, it’ll be his third title. A feat he’s already quite proud of, since his titles have been back-to-back. There’s been much fighting for it - as is the purpose of Formula One - and Regulus loves that it’s not just handed to him, despite what some media think. He has to work to earn his titles, not only for the fans, but for himself.
There’s nothing fun about driving a car at ungodly-speed without there being something to work for. If he wanted it easy, he would’ve chosen something else.
His biggest rival is Jamir Puttar; or James, as most people call him. The Griffin Racing driver always manages to come close, which keeps the tension on until the last race. Never since he joined the sport, has Regulus been less exhilarated than when he’s on track, battling it out with Puttar. Outside of the track, though, he doesn’t speak to the man unless a press-conference demands it. Not even during the drivers parade that occurs before a race, does he say a word to the man. There’s simply no need for it.
Now, though, now his father has started getting antsy.
You see, Orion knows Griffin Racing is a threat. It’s a relatively young team set up by Fleamont Puttar and Zoricus Meadows, but only accepted as team after Fleamont’s passing twenty years ago. However, Griffin Racing is a good team. They’re a well-oiled machine that gets shit done, and Regulus respects them for it, even if he hates their guts.
This threat is dangerous, in Orion’s eyes, and he’s instructed Regulus to find a way to get them off their game. He has no idea how to do so, and he hopes he can prolong the need to talk to the man. Besides, Puttar has a child with him at some races now. Isn’t that distraction enough?
Not in the eyes of Orion, sadly, which means Regulus has to come up with something else. What? He doesn’t know, but there’s still time and they’re ahead of Griffin Racing in the championship so far.
“Regulus, can we take a picture?” a fan with a Griffin Racing polo asks, looking at the racer with hopeful eyes.
Next to the fan is another, holding a poster which has Puttar’s face on it next to the words ‘Marry me, James!’. The picture has the man smiling, and Regulus privately thinks it’s a beautiful smile.
Giving the fans a smile, Regulus poses for some pictures as he wonders how in the hell he can get Puttar to like him enough to orchestrate his team’s downfall.
🏎
The crash on his birthday weekend has been haunting him, but James is determined to make it up to his team. He’s been training every day and doing simulations until deep in the night. His mother often had to tell him to go to sleep, taking Harry with her to convince him to stop his work.
Harry has been a great distraction from his thoughts, but now he’s back and ready to show what he’s worth.
Normally, James wouldn’t race the hell out of his car during free practice, but now he’s got the feeling he needs to prove himself again. In the morning session, he had given his all and ended up with the third time, so now he’s pushing himself even harder, and others are starting to notice.
“James, calm down,” comes Marlene’s voice over the radio. “You’re being reckless. Use your breaks or you’ll end up in the wall.”
“Leave me alone,” James snaps at her. “I know what I’m doing. I’ve got this.”
He takes a corner a little too fast and his car spins, but James has it straight almost as fast as he spun.
“James, box it,” a different voice with more authority orders him. “We’re not doing it like this. Box the damn car.”
Making his way back to the pit lane, James parks his car in front of his pit box and lets himself be wheeled inside. He’s helped out of the car and, before anyone can stop him, he walks through the back to the paddock and takes a seat on the ground.
James pulls his helmet and balaclava off his head and takes a few deep breaths to calm his beating heart. He’s vaguely aware that there are people watching him, but he doesn’t care. He just needs a few moments before he can jump back into his car.
Someone sits down next to him, and James tilts his head to see it’s his team principal. Zoricus is looking at him with much concern, causing James to close his eyes and bonk his head against the wall.
“I’m not gonna ask if you’re alright, because I can see that you’re not,” Zoricus begins unprompted, “but, Jamir, have you slept at all since China?”
“Mum forced me,” James replies, and it appears to be the wrong thing to say because his father’s best friend pulls him in for a hug.
“Do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Zoricus asks, his gaze locked on the Netflix crew that’s slowly coming out of the Noir Racing pit box. They’re like vultures, smelling a story from a mile away.
The racer looks down and hides his face against Zoricus’ chest. He feels like a child doing so, but he also is aware that they’re in public and he doesn’t want anyone to see or hear him breaking down.
Because a breakdown is what’s about to happen.
Taking a breath, James feels tears gathering in his eyes. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” he confesses, and almost instantly it feels as if something heavy is lifted from his chest. “I don’t know what I’m doing with Harry. I don’t know what I’m doing with my career. I don’t know what I’m doing with my life.”
The arms around him tighten and the tears leave James’ eyes.
“Oh, Jamie,” Zoricus sighs, his voice cracking on the name. “How long have these thoughts been weighing on you?”
James shrugs. “A while,” he says, not sure of the answer.
Zoricus looks at the people staring at them and shifts to hide the younger man better from view. “Do you remember when the Prewetts brought along their nephews?” he questions. “Little Charlie followed you around like a lost puppy, and you glowed whenever he asked you a question.”
James remembers Charles Weasley very well. The young boy was filled with energy, and he never stopped asking questions. The best was when James told him about his experience with go-karts. From what he’s heard, Charlie begged his mother to get a kart.
“You were so patient with them,” Zoricus goes on, “and when I saw you two, I saw your father. I knew then and there that you’d be an amazing father one day, and when Lily came to you with Harry, it was further proof. You go through life just as your old man used to. He’d be so proud of the man you’ve become, Jamir.”
Turning his head to look up, James gives the man a hopeful smile. “Really?” he wonders, his lips wobbling a little.
“Really,” Zoricus promises him. “You’re doing wonderful with Harry, and when it comes to your own life, you take it one day at a time. Sure, setbacks hit you hard, but they don’t stop you. You push on and try harder the next time, but Jamir… You’ve got to remember to breathe every once and a while. You’re human, don’t forget that.”
Burrowing his head back into his pseudo-uncle’s chest, James lets the emotions wash over himself. He cries for himself, for his struggles, and for his dreams. The weight of the world isn’t on his shoulders, and he doesn’t have to take it just because he thinks he should.
He’s human.
“Do you want to sit here for a while longer or do you want to get back into the car now?” Zoricus wonders once the crying has stopped. “I’ll handle the FIA if you don’t want to continue today.”
“No, it’s fine,” James tells him as he pulls back. He dries his face and rolls his shoulders. “I’ll go back. Just… give me a second to get back into the right mindset. A healthy one.”
Zoricus chuckles and gives the driver one last hug. “I’ll be yelling at the Netflix crew until you’re ready,” he says, and gets up to do just that.
James rubs his hands over his face and takes a few deep breathes. He’s got this, and no setback will ever make him loose his focus again.
🏎
It’s the third race weekend, and Mary feels like she’s getting the hang of it. So far, she’s been doing remarkably well, proving her worth to the team. She’s managed to make Q2 last time and she’s scored a point during the race in China, so she’s hoping this time it’ll go much the same.
Right before making her way to her car, she gets a message from Lily, saying that she and her co-workers are cheering for her.
Lily’s co-workers are famous actors, which is something Mary is freaking out about. Yeah, Mary is famous herself - or getting there, at least - but there’s something very different in being movie-famous, and knowing those people are watching her? She can’t afford to mess up.
The days leading up to this race week had Mary catching up with family, as well as training her ass off to stay in shape. She’s used her free time to help her siblings with their schoolwork, and made many TikTok videos with her younger twin siblings.
It’s a good thing her mother insisted on having their socials on private, or the two fifteen-year-olds would’ve never had a day of peace online.
Mary, also, spent her days trying to get her father to back off.
At sixteen, she had been thrilled to have the man back in her life. He had abandoned the family when they moved to Austria, but the moment she got a seat in F3, he came back.
The joy didn’t last very long, though. Oh, no. When money came in, he started dictating how much she could access. She had been a minor, at the time, so it made sense that her parents would manage her income, but not to the extreme that he did. She got ten Euros a week, and that was it. All her money went to him, and she never noticed it, because he always said it went to a savings account.
Turning eighteen had been an eye-opener. She learned that there was no savings account, and that all her money had been going straight to her father’s private account. It had taken months of legal battles to get her money back, and her father isn’t allowed to be in the same country as her. With how often she travels, that’s hard to do, but luckily the United States of America is large enough to change the demand to only be states apart, instead of countries apart.
With the money her father is paying back, Mary is helping her siblings go back to school. Her older sisters Danella and Harriet are in university now, but her younger siblings are still in high school. They’re nearing their final years, though.
Emerson, who’s only four years younger, is the oldest in his class, but he’s told Mary that it’s alright. Estrella and Dante are the youngest and they are twins. They’re the ones who always want to come along with Mary, even if they can’t. It’s endearing, but also a hassle, because their mother has to listen to their complaints almost every day.
When she was back home, Mary did everything she could to make up for missed time. She played games, said yes to almost everything her siblings wanted to do, and told them about all the grid gossip she overheard. They’ve been weirdly obsessed with the interactions between some drivers. They told her about who the internet is shipping, and asked her all about if those people even talk when in the paddock or not.
It’s not much, but it’s more than enough for her family.
Now, though, Mary has her full focus on making it to Q3. She’s pushing her car just enough to be out of the danger-zone, but it’s not yet the fastest she can go. No, she’s saving that until her team tells her she needs to work harder. So far, she’s doing well enough to continue on for Q2.
“Okay, Macdonald, that’s a P11,” Fabian announces once she crosses the start/finish after the time’s run out. “Good work.”
“Thanks, you too,” Mary replies, making her round around the track before finding the pit entry and driving back to her pit box.
P11 isn’t bad, but it needs work. Mary vows to push a little harder in Q2, and she gets to prove it not much later.
With five less racers on track, it’s still full of traffic. The fifteen who have a second chance are making it hard for each other, while also trying to create space for themselves. Mary is lucky she didn’t go out as one of the first, so she has someone in front of her that she can steal some tow from, but with all the other cars who’re still warming up their tyres it proofs tricky. She has to dodge cars that are driving much slower than she is.
The start/finish comes into view once again, and Fabian had already informed her that the time has run out. Crossing the line, Mary breathes hard as she slows down. She manoeuvrers around other cars and makes her way back to the pit lane.
“What’s the damage?” Mary questions her engineer. She’s anticipating a negative answer, despite hoping she’s repeated her former performance.
Fabian takes a long time to answer, which doesn’t help her nerves at all.
“P7, Mary. That’s P7!” the man finally says, and Mary screams into the radio.
She’s done it! She’s proved herself again to the team, showing that they had been right in signing her for this season.
“Now, onto Q3,” Fabian continues after she’s calmed down enough to be spoken to. “You’ve got this, Mary.”
Q3 is the shortest out of the three qualifying times. It’s twelve minutes of the last ten drivers fighting over the top spot. Mary knows she won’t be getting it; there are other teams more qualified. Making it into Q3 is already a performance on its own, so it doesn’t matter to her where she ends up starting tomorrow. Still, she wants to show that she can do this, that she can be up there with the top teams.
It’s always good to show just how well you can work with whatever type of car you’ve been given. It’s a show of talent if you can get a shit box of a car to work well enough to score points. If you’ve got a car that’s alright - not the best, but alright enough to be up there - and you manage to get a podium, or even top five, it shows you know how to work around problems. If you’ve got a good car, one that wins more than loses, and you’ve got to make your way up because of something or another, it shows you are worthy of driving such a car.
Mary hopes that, one day, she can race in one of the top teams, but gaining experiences in Prime Blossom is already a dream come true. She’s driving an F1 car! During the season! As a fixed member of the team!
Crossing the start/finish for the last time this day, Mary waits for Fabian to tell her which position she’s got. She’s not the last to cross the line, so it’ll take a while, which gives her time to return to her pit box.
As she’s wheeled in, Fabian opens up the radio channel and tells her her position for the race.
“You’re not gonna believe me,” he says.
“What is it?” Mary questions, hope blooming in her chest.
Fabian chuckles. “You’re P6!”
“For real?” Mary asks, not daring to cheer yet. “You’re not joking?”
“I’m not lying,” Fabian tells her, and she can hear his smile. “You’re starting P6 tomorrow.”
Mary, already, cannot wait.
🏎
“Cut!” the director yells, and Lily lets herself hang in the harness they have her in. “Evans, we need more pain from you. Roll again in five!”
“You got it!” Lily shouts back. She has no idea what time it is right now, but she’s pretty positive that the race is almost starting. Sadly, she’s still stuck shooting a scene with an explosion while it’s cold.
Sure, it’s spring, but Canada is still cold. Especially at night.
Despite the scene technically taking place in Switzerland, they couldn’t fit it into their schedule to travel there, so Canada was the next best thing.
They’ve created fake snow for the scene, yet Lily desperately wished she didn’t have to wear torn clothes to appear as if she’s been shot at and survived an explosion on a safe house.
They’ve been reshooting this scene for about an hour now, but the director can’t seem to find any satisfaction in their work. It’s not a long scene, since this bit is from after the explosion, yet it’s a very important one.
It’s the scene where her character - Theresa - learns about Andrew’s character - Peter - secret vigilante hobby.
“Cold?” Andrew asks from where he’s hanging slightly above her. He had let go of her hand not long ago, so he must have felt how cold she is.
“A little,” Lily admits. “I think it’s mostly my hands that are turning into ice cubes.”
The man hums at her and holds out his hand. “I think, if we put on the theatrics extra large, we might make it back to the trailers before the race begins.”
Lily chuckles and grasps his hand. “Let’s do this, then.”
The director yells for silence before the camera starts rolling again. Lily holds on tighter to Andrew and grunts as the harness she’s in makes her drop a little.
“Theresa!” Andrew shouts, putting enough fear into his words to, hopefully, convince the director.
Lily lets her eyes roam over her co-actor’s body and gasps. “Peter?” she questions, staring at the red and blue that’s visible between his torn clothes. “I knew it!”
“Don’t be a show-off,” Andrew replies, grunting a little in the effort of pulling her up to get off the cliff they’re hanging from. “Right now, let’s concentrate on staying alive.”
On cue, someone drops more fake snow over them with a slightly burned photograph between the flakes. Lily starts reaching for it.
“Theresa, both hands,” Andrew calls, but Lily is focused on catching that photograph. she’s lucky that the struggle is part of the act, since the breeze isn’t making it easy.
“Just a second-” Lily tells him, finally feeling the photograph between her fingers. “Phew. Caught it.”
“Theresa!” Andrew yells, again. “I almost dropped you! What the hell are you doing?!”
“Looking out for my brother,” Lily replies, looking the man in the eyes. She shows him the photograph, which is of the actor for young-Peter and the actors of Peter’s parents. It’s an old prop from the first the Amazing Spider-Man movie.
“This one is yours,” she continues. “Also? You don’t speak one word French, do you?”
They hang there for a few seconds longer, with Andrew trying to pull her up - both hands this time. The second they both reach the top of the ‘cliff’, there’s a shout.
“Cut!” the director yells. “That was perfect. We’re done for the night, but remember we’re shooting early tomorrow. Well done, everyone!”
As soon as Lily is on the ground, one of the assistants - Sybill - hands her a winter coat and tea.
“Thank you,” she says, burrowing herself into the warmth of the coat. “Do you happen to know how late it is?”
“You’ve got half an hour before the race begins, Miss Evans,” Sybill tells her, grinning slightly.
Lily blushes as she understands how predictable she is and thanks the person again.
Andrew walks up to her, also holding a cup of tea. “How much time?” he wonders.
“Half an hour,” she informs him. “I’ll take a quick shower to warm up. Meet me at my trailer in fifteen?”
“Sure.”
“Sybill, can you find anything for us to eat?” she asks the assistant. “You’re welcome to join us, if you want?”
“I’ll be there shortly,” the woman accept the invitation.
Lily runs to her trailer to get a shower, shooting Mary a quick text to wish her luck. She wishes she could be there, watching her best friend race like Mary has always dreamt of doing, but her demanding schedule doesn’t allow her to. She’ll be there in Monaco, though. Lily noticed that they’ll be filming there during the Grand Prix weekend, and already can’t wait for it. Monaco is always a spectacle.
Fifteen minutes fly past quickly, and Lily is just setting up her laptop when there’s knocking on her door. Calling for them to enter, Sybill and Andrew climb inside.
“I’ve brought extra cushions and blankets,” Andrew says, throwing the materials on the sofa Lily’s sitting on.
“And I’ve got food and beer,” Sybill announces. “And some water, because you guys need to stay hydrated.”
“Did it start yet?” Andrew wonders, and Lily tells him it’s about to.
The three of them pile on the sofa, burrowing each other into the blankets and shushing each other once the lights go on.
The start goes well, and Lily is pleased to see her best friend improving without much issue. She knows James started at p2, just behind his rival Regulus Black, and she’s annoyed to see he’s dropped a place. He’s behind Severus now, and Lily can’t find herself to be happy for her former best friend.
By lap 14, the action picks up again.
So far, everyone has been driving neatly behind each other (the action on the first lap notwithstanding). Now, however, the first racers are beginning their pit stops, and it creates gaps as well as battles to keep positions.
“Oh, my God!” Andrew exclaims, shooting forward to see the screen better. “Is that one you know, Lils?”
“It’s Pandora, I think,” Lily tells him as she leans forward to see better.
“Big move from Pandora Lávenkount there,” the F1TV commentator, Pomona Sprout, is saying. The replay starts and the ex-racer explains what’s shown. “Lávenkount shows exactly why she’s renewed her contract with Phoenix Racing by showing rookie Mary Macdonald just how overtaking in a corner is done. There was almost contact, but Lávenkount knows how her car works, and she demonstrates beautifully what she can do with it.”
“I think I’ve found the driver I want to be supporting,” Sybill says, her eyes locked onto the screen. “She’s amazing.”
The race goes on without much excitement, and all twenty drivers make it to the end. Lily is pleased to note that Mary has, once again, finished within the points.