Alaric
For a few seconds after I crossed the line, I was in my own world.
I did not care about the shouting from my race engineer or the pounding of my heartbeat beneath the fireproof layers of my race suit.
There was only the sound of my own breathing echoing inside the claustrophobic confines of my helmet.
Then I heard it all.
"P1, Alaric! P1! You won the Saudi Grand Prix!"
The words exploded through my earpiece, a little too loud and completely impossible to fully comprehend.
I stared ahead blindly before my eyes dropped down to the digital display on my steering wheel. The glowing leaderboard read exactly what the radio had promised.
P1.
My name sat at the absolute top of the board while Nico's sat right beneath mine in second place.
For one strange, suspended moment, my fingers tightened around the molded wheel until the leather creaked beneath my gloves.
I had won.
I had actually won.
Suddenly, the Ferrari garage erupted through the comms.
