Laughing, joking, happy. You didn't need to eavesdrop on Kai and Leclerc to know the atmosphere was relaxed and friendly. There wasn't a hint of "swords drawn, bows bent" or a life-and-death struggle.
The rumors had zero credibility.
The smart people had already looked away, quietly turning their backs, not wanting to embarrass themselves further. Without any juicy gossip, there was no need to pay attention to F2 and GP3. It was better to focus on F1. The kids playing house just weren't worth the time.
However, some people just didn't have eyes.
Or rather, they didn't have brains.
As they passed the Prema pit garage, a mean-spirited voice called out.
"Hey, Baby."
In the noise and roar of the paddock, the shout had no direction. It was swallowed by the din, and naturally, got no response.
A second ago, Nicholas Latifi had been smug, imagining the crowd bursting into laughter at his wit.
A second later, left hanging in the air, he was embarrassed. His face flushed red. He felt like Leclerc was deliberately ignoring him to humiliate him.
In today's F2 Feature Race, the two Prema drivers, Leclerc and Fuoco, had started on the front row. Both were Ferrari Academy drivers. Starting third was Latifi. If he wanted to win, he had to beat both Ferrari youngsters.
In the race, Latifi had performed well, passing Fuoco for second and putting immense pressure on Leclerc, almost overturning the lead. But Leclerc was brilliant, defending perfectly for the entire race, miraculously holding Latifi off to win by 1.345 seconds.
Latifi had been so close to victory, but he had missed it.
Seeing Leclerc and Kai chatting happily now, he couldn't hold back. "Hey, Charles! Meeting up with your sweetie-pie? How sweet."
Finally, Kai realized. That "Baby" wasn't a term of endearment. It was "infant." The guy was mocking him.
But Kai turned and looked at the face, his eyes full of genuine confusion: Who is this?
Even though it was baffling, the guy had stuck his face out to be slapped. It would be rude not to oblige, wouldn't it?
"So, you're not that kind of person, are you?" Kai asked, his face serious, his eyes full of sincerity and concern, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.
Kai subtly moved to shield Leclerc. Leclerc, still grieving, didn't need this kind of nonsense.
Kai didn't hide his worry, adopting a heartfelt, earnest tone. "Just because your brain is too small to remember names, doesn't mean you can't keep it in your pants. calling everyone 'baby' all over the paddock... Buddy, be careful. If you use it too much, your brain capacity might shrink even faster."
"Remember to eat more walnuts and fish oil."
His sincerity was touching
Pfft.
Even the honest Leclerc couldn't hold it in. He snorted with laughter.
The whole paddock knew Latifi was a playboy, leaving a trail of "dates" all over the world. It was old news.
Leclerc, still kind, tried to suppress his laughter, afraid of hurting Latifi. But he hadn't expected the others around them to show no mercy. The crowd exploded with laughter.
Latifi stood there, his face crimson, looking like a pufferfish about to explode.
You could see he was preparing a comeback, but Kai didn't give him a chance. He looked at Latifi with alarm, his voice panicky.
"Ah! A nosebleed! Wait, is that brain matter...?"
Latifi instinctively clapped his hands over his nose, flustered and panicked. By the time he realized there was no blood, it was too late.
Hahahaha!
The laughter in the pit lane was deafening. People were doubling over.
Latifi couldn't handle the humiliation. He turned and fled.
Leclerc started to worry. "Sorry, Kai. Latifi was probably aiming at me, and you got dragged into it."
Kai's eyes widened. "Latifi?"
Leclerc: "You know him?"
Kai: "No. The name sounds familiar, but I don't recall him. Probably not worth noting."
Latifi: ...
Kai looked calm. "I figured he was just one of the paddock clowns, waiting to see me fail so they could kick me while I'm down. I know in sports, only the winner matters, and everyone else is a loser. But isn't it a bit early? The race hasn't even started, and they're already putting on a show."
Leclerc could tell Kai was itching for a fight. "Ready to push?"
Kai pursed his lips. "Now I have a little extra motivation. I'm ready to disappoint them."
Clearly, the eyes surrounding Kai were lively.
Some hoped for Kai's dominance. Some hoped for his fall from grace. Some didn't care or understand the fuss. Some were just watching the GP3 "kids playing house" as a break from the tension of F1.
All kinds of expectations.
And the Red Bull Ring was the perfect stage. Youthful, hot-blooded. Short, fast, rhythmic. Dominated by high-speed corners, with overtaking opportunities everywhere. It allowed teams and drivers to show off their full arsenal. It was one of the most passionate tracks on the calendar.
"Fast and Furious" was the perfect description.
Of course, more overtaking meant higher tire wear. Unlike Barcelona, the Red Bull Ring itself wasn't hard on tires the elevation changes and corners were reasonable. But if a driver pushed the tires to overtake constantly, that was a different story.
In other words, the opportunities were there. Whether you could seize them, and how you seized them, depended entirely on the driver.
In the last race in Spain, Kai had shown his talent on a track with few overtaking chances. Now, at the Red Bull Ring, an open track built for attacking and defending, the wide-open, close-quarters combat would last the entire race. Whether Kai could shine here was a different story.
Vroooom, vroooom!
The engine roar settled in the air, injecting into the blood. The lush green mountain scenery, so different from Barcelona, spread out before them. Mist swirled among the peaks like a fairyland, and the fresh air was invigorating as they raced through the clouds.
On pole, Russell glanced in his right mirror. He could clearly see Kai in P2. He took a deep breath and calmed down.
Now, he wouldn't underestimate him. He wouldn't be caught off guard. Facing Kai, he would bring 200% focus to prove himself.
Just like in qualifying, he would suppress Kai, take the win, and open the door to the next stage of his career with his own hands.
The red lights went out.
Throttle, clutch, launch. Russell shot forward like an arrow released from a bow. Ignoring Kai and the others behind him, he immediately flew to the inside, firmly defending his racing line.
Only then did he have time for a quick glance in the mirror. Like a shadow, the red and black blur of the Number 2 car was glued to his tail, closing fast.
As expected.
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