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Even second-guessing.
But deep down, I feel a sense of excitement and anticipation for the journey ahead.
I am grateful for the years spent as a Formula One driver, and now it’s time for a new chapter, one filled with Vio.
My people-pleasing tendencies have gone out the window and now I’m being a selfish motherfucker for once.
I throw on my helmet with the Brazilian flag on the top of my helmet, representing where I come from.
Brazilian fans cheer from the crowd and I take it all in one last time before I sit down and get ready.
The formation lap is in progress, I’ve qualified in fifth, which isn’t my best performance.
To be honest, I haven’t been performing my best all year.
Ale already won her world championship title a few races ago. She’s surpassed everyone this season.
I’m most likely going to get fifth in the drivers’ championship and Elektra is first in constructors thanks to Ale.
The anticipation weighs heavily on my chest as I stand on the starting grid, surrounded by the deafening roar of engines and the electric atmosphere of the crowd.
Tears well up in my eyes, and my hands trembled with a mix of emotions.
This was my final chance to leave a mark on the sport I have devoted my life to for so many years.
This is my last chance to tell my dad that I did it, that I made both our dreams a reality.
As the lights flicker and then extinguish, my focus sharpens, and instinct takes over.
My car roars to life, hurtling forward in a surge of raw power.
In the blink of an eye, I dart past the car ahead, gaining an early advantage as the pack jostles for a position.
The adrenaline surges through my veins, sharpening my senses and heightening my awareness of every movement on the track.
Corner after corner, I dance with the limits of control, braking late and diving into gaps that seem barely wide enough for my car.
The crowd roars with approval, their energy fueling my determination.
The sound of screeching tires and roaring engines blends harmoniously, creating a symphony of speed and intensity.
It’s music to my ears. This feeling is what I felt when I first got into a Formula One car. Becoming a driver in this sport is a privilege. Very few people achieve this goal and I did.
This is my last chance to show everyone what I’ve got.
My car moves faster and faster as if I’m driving on air.
I turn around a corner and find myself locked in fierce battles with Amir.
Each overtaking maneuver requires calculated precision and commitment. Once you try to pass them, you can’t back down.
It could lead to a crash or even worse, you don’t pass the motherfucker in front of you.
The narrow margins for error mean that hesitation could cost me dearly, while audacity could reap extraordinary rewards.
The Brazilian circuit embraces me like an old friend. Its undulating contours and challenging chicanes are a testament to my love for these streets.
The familiar curves reveal themselves to me with an intimacy that only a local driver could possess.
