The atmosphere in the paddock had shifted. The race in Spain had left a mark — not just on the track, but in the paddock itself. The tension that Leo had felt was no longer just a weight on his shoulders; it was palpable, an invisible force that hung over the team like a storm cloud. The once harmonious environment was now fractured, and Leo could feel it in the way people looked at him, spoke to him, and even how they moved around him.
The team was divided.
Some of the engineers and mechanics had started to gravitate toward Cruz, their loyalty rooted in his reliability, his consistency. He was the perfect driver for sponsors who wanted a clean, marketable face, someone who didn't cause trouble. Cruz played the game better than anyone — and everyone knew it.
But Leo? Leo was a wildcard. He wasn't playing by their rules, and that scared them. His defiance, his refusal to toe the line, had begun to drive a wedge between him and the rest of the team. Some saw him as a hero, a symbol of rebellion against the suffocating corporate world of F1. Others saw him as a threat, a driver who wasn't "marketable," who couldn't be controlled.
It started with the engineers.
Leo had been in the garage early, as usual, preparing for the practice session. His team was working on the car, but there was a noticeable difference in the way they interacted with him. Some were curt, their responses short, eyes darting toward Cruz's side of the garage whenever he passed by. The tension was thick, and it wasn't long before Leo noticed it.
He approached one of the lead engineers, Chris, who was hunched over a data sheet.
"Everything okay?" Leo asked, his voice quiet but probing.
Chris didn't look up, but his voice was strained. "Yeah, just running the usual checks."
"You sure?" Leo pressed. "You seem a little off today."
Chris finally looked up, but his expression was guarded. "We're just all a little on edge, that's all."
Leo frowned, sensing something more. "What do you mean?"
Chris hesitated before speaking, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "Look, Leo… we respect what you're doing. You're pushing hard, but... the team's under a lot of pressure. Cruz is the safer bet right now. We need the sponsors, the consistency."
Leo felt his chest tighten. He had suspected it, but hearing it out loud made it real. Cruz was winning not just on the track, but in the eyes of those who mattered — the team, the sponsors, the decision-makers. He wasn't just playing by the rules; he was shaping them.
"I'm doing my best," Leo said, his voice steady but growing colder. "And I'm not going to stop racing like I always have. If that's a problem, you can say it to my face."
Chris sighed, a heavy, defeated sound. "It's not that simple, Leo. You're a risk. And risks are what we can't afford right now."
Leo walked away from the garage, the weight of Chris's words pressing down on him. He wasn't stupid. He knew that if he didn't toe the line, he'd be left behind. But this was his fight. He couldn't compromise who he was. He couldn't let Cruz or the sponsors force him into their mold.
The divide within the team wasn't just in the garage. It was in the boardroom too.
After the practice session, Leo was called into yet another team meeting. This time, it wasn't just the engineers. The executive team was there, the sponsors, and the media reps. It was clear that the weight of the discussions had nothing to do with his performance on track. It was about his image.
Martin Vane, the team principal, sat at the head of the table, his expression tight and unreadable. To his left was Ellen Grey, the head of sponsorships, her eyes narrowed as she flipped through a stack of reports.
"Leo," Martin began, his voice cold, "we've been hearing a lot of concerns from our sponsors about the direction you're taking."
Leo's eyes narrowed. He had heard this before. The game was the same: make Leo toe the line, make him a product. But he wasn't going to back down.
"I'm racing, Martin. I'm doing what I've always done. I'm winning."
Ellen spoke up, her voice dripping with calculated diplomacy. "It's not just about winning, Leo. It's about how you win. Your last few races have been… controversial. We can't afford any more headlines about 'recklessness' or 'dangerous driving.'"
Leo clenched his fists under the table. "So what do you want from me?"
"We want consistency," Ellen said, her tone patronizing. "We need you to be a safe bet, Leo. And right now, Cruz is that safe bet."
The words stung. Leo felt his blood boil, but he kept his voice steady. "I'm not Cruz. I'm not trying to be Cruz. I'm not here to play it safe."
Martin looked at him with an unreadable expression. "That's what worries us, Leo. You need to think about the bigger picture. About your future. About what's best for the team."
Leo stood up, the chair scraping against the floor. "And what's best for the team is to let me race my way. Not to turn me into a brand. If that's not good enough for you, then I'll make my own future."
There was a long silence in the room. Martin's eyes flicked to Ellen, then back to Leo. He knew this was a battle. And for the first time, Leo knew he might not win it.
The meeting ended with no resolution. But Leo felt something change inside him. He had never been more certain of his path. If they wanted him to conform, they were going to have to force him. He wasn't going to be a corporate puppet, playing to their tune. He was going to race his way, or not at all.
But the team was splitting. The lines had been drawn, and Leo wasn't sure if he had enough allies left to fight this battle. The mechanics were beginning to fall in line behind Cruz, the sponsors were shifting their allegiance, and even some of the higher-ups in the team were starting to question whether Leo was worth the risk.
He wasn't just fighting for victories anymore. He was fighting for his place in the sport.
As the next race weekend loomed, Leo felt the pressure more than ever. It wasn't just the track that he had to survive anymore — it was the politics. And in this world, survival didn't always mean winning. It meant navigating a game he wasn't sure he could control.