Chapter Text
Fal had spent the previous years on the top step of the podium. Raising trophies and drowning in champagne. Screaming his victory to the sky. Laughing with those next to him, the drivers that pushed him to be ever better, to strive for more. They pushed him to win again and again and again, but to fight for them, get his elbows out and his hands bloody. He was one of the best drivers in the world, he’d proved it. He didn’t have to play nice anymore. Didn’t have to smile at the media, didn’t have to hide as much. It seemed inevitable, he’d keep winning, keep getting trophies to line the walls of his apartment. That was until the regulations changed. The car that had been mastered, suddenly fell off a cliff. They’d messed up big time.
Now, the car was a tractor, fighting Fal every step of the way around the track, snapping out at the most inopportune times. He could barely refrain from screaming inside his helmet, lashing out at his engineer. They struggled to get more than a small handful of points every weekend, barely able to so much as string together a good quali lap. Q3 which had become so commonplace was now a far off memory. A good race strategy was all they had to make up time, fast pitstops and a competent strategy seemed the only things they’d kept from the glory days. The year was full of disagreements, with engineers about the direction of the car, with his team principal, about almost anything else. Nothing they did seemed to work, the packages they brought barely worked, everyone else was developing faster and more consistently. He spent so much time in the sim, trying to find what was wrong, how to fix it. Slowly, slowly they crept forwards, lap times in the sim slipping down but it wasn’t fast enough for him. He was a world champion, he shouldn’t be the laughing stock of the paddock. He shouldn’t be spending so much time staring at data that his eyes turned red. He was losing sleep over it, nights spent sitting in bed trying and failing to figure out where he went wrong. Most of his days at the factory ended with storming out to his car, slamming his head on the steering wheel, quietly screaming before composing himself and driving off. Press conferences were spent trying to appear to have faith, saying he was sure they were heading in the right direction. That the car was feeling better every weekend.
There was nothing left for him at this team. For what did team loyalty mean if he had to watch his career falter and fail? Nothing, it meant nothing. He had owed the team his career, they’d given him a chance. That impulsive, brash teenager he had been, they’d seen beyond it, seen what he could become. Now, his career was so close to tatters, people were starting to doubt his ability. The car was unlikely to be better soon, so maybe just maybe he should move to somewhere that he could achieve his potential. This season would not be the end of his career, he was sure of that. He had an out in his contract, they were doing badly enough to meet it. He picked up his phone off the couch next to him and sent a text to his manager, “let Madi know I want to have a chat.” Now, now he would abandon the navy blue for black and silver.
Fal stood up and adjusted his suit, “these have been a very productive series of meetings I hope you agree,” he said to Madi who remained in her seat on the other side of the desk.
“Very much so, and I’m rather glad that we’ve come to such a well rounded conclusion,” she replied, reaching out to shake his hand.
“Well I must be going, I need to finalise my release from Red Bull, there are documents to be signed and handed over I’m sure you understand,” he said as he released her hand and turned towards the door.
He fumbled a bit as it turned the lights in his hotel room on. It was later than he had anticipated getting back. The document signing had taken longer than he would have liked but they were now on their way back to Milton Keynes. He however would be making use of having another night in this rather nice hotel suite. Carefully he took his jacket off and slipped it onto a hanger before moving towards the bathroom.
He slipped into the bed after a long, hot shower, relieving him of the stress of the day and easing his muscles. He reached for the book that sat on the bedside table, an old, dogeared copy of The Art of War, and picking out his bookmark started to read.
2 Months Later (just before Summer break)…
“Fal Moonshadow announced to be racing for Mercedes next season.”
“Rookie Sunny Morningcrest to be racing alongside 3-time WDC winner Fal Moonshadow”
Those were the announcements that rocked the world of F1 to its core.