February, 2023
Ruslan was anxiously staring at the five red lights above. As they went off, Ruslan started his car, pushing as hard as possible, the engine behind him roaring.
The first lap was the most intense one, since all of the cars were in dangerous Proximity.
It was his first Formula 1 race. Ruslan couldn't shake the nervousness away, but he had to focus.
He was approaching the first turn, when he got uncomfortably close to the wall, but he kept going on any way.
Panic seared through his body upon hearing his team frustration over the radio as two cars passed him in a millisecond.
When a third car approached him, he tried to defend and block the car behind him.
He soon felt his car being lifted up from behind and thrown in the air.
Ruslan's car was rolling over the gravel at lightning speed, before landing on the catching fence and falling on the other side, bursting into flames.
Ruslan screamed as hit the ground falling off his bed. He scanned his surroundings in utter confusion, realizing he was still in the safety of his bedroom.
This was the fourth nightmare this month, Ruslan sighed.
Ever since he learnt he would be driving in F1 this year, and the nightmares never ceased to disturb his sleep. While he spent the day eating himself with anxiety and worries, most of them reasonable.
The 2023 season would be starting next month and Ruslan could never shake off the feeling that he wasn't ready for it.
He had little time to train and prepare himself mentally, but something kept nagging at him, that he would never feel quite ready.
This year was the most important year of his life, the career changer, his make or break: his rookie season.
Formula 1 had the most competitive jobs on the world regarding both drivers and engineers. The grid only offered twenty spots, majority of which were filled by the most spectacular drivers from around the globe. Ruslan's performance would need to be on bar with them, or he would be replaced in a flash of light, as F1 teams had a pool of hundreds of qualified racers at their disposal.
Ruslan needed to not only impress his own team and demonstrate he would be capable of leading the team forward. He needed to impress other teams as well, for if he was kicked out for any reason outside of his control, he would have a back up plan.
Nobody on the grid was safe, any team would drop their drive in favor of the new hot talent.
Even world champions had been replaced by their teams when their performance suffered, and some for far less.
Formula 1 was the most expensive sport in the world; therefore, money always had the final say. One word infuriating one sponsor could end a driver's career for good.
Ruslan washed his face, thinking he needed to stop his negative thoughts before they came to life.
************************************************
"You almost look like a decent man, almost." Ruslan remarked, as he was leaning against the door frame.
Valero was buttoning his shirt, before adding a tie and tidying up his outfit in front of his full mirror, clearly in a hurry to get somewhere.
"Shut up, I'm the family lawyer" Valero replied seriously, picked his bag from his desk, and was now moving toward the door. Looking every bit the man in the movie who showed up at the court out of the blue and saved the day.
Valero was in his first year at law school, and had thus declared himself the family lawyer. The fact that their father would sometimes task him with some legal matters at his work had furthermore inflated his ego beyond comeback.
Valero presented himself as the playful easy-going twin, yet he was sharp and cunning.
"So you're going down the office? Dad said there's much work these days." Ruslan asked.
"Yeah, he needs all the assistance he can get." Valero replied.
"Just restraint yourself and don't run away with the money" Ruslan joked.
"You've been standing at my door for ten minutes, Ruslan. What do you want? I'll be late!" Valero questioned impatiently.
"I don't know what should I wear tonight. Is it supposed to be casual fit or formal fit?" Ruslan asked him.
"Wait, is the car launch today? It had completely escaped my mind. Don't worry about it, I'll be back before six and fix something for you" Valero assured him.
"And I'm taking your car" Valero added while he was leaving the apartment.
The truth was, Ruslan was simply nervous and needed a familiar face with him at the event and Valero knew that, events were sort of his speciality.
Ruslan wasn't a very social person, unlike his twin who was the optimistic, bright, and full of joy character.
Ruslan was more quiet and didn't speak much, so Valero just learnt to understand him without words.
************************************************
Ruslan left to the gym, and Amil arrived soon after.
Ruslan had been spending all of his days training as of late.
He was sitting down, while Amil put a resistance band around his head and started pulling as hard as he could, and Ruslan didn't move at all.
He had to train his neck muscles everyday; a mandorty exercise for F1 drivers to be able to withstand the high G forces they experience during the race, which could go up to six Gs in corners- enough to render any untrained human unconscious.
F1 drivers not only must bear these forces, they had to get comfortable with them, enough to not disturb their focus or hinder their performance.
However, these trainings used the most bizarre methods, which explains why everyone in the gym had stopped what they were doing to watch them, bewilderment coloring their faces.
The training was intense to say the least, one-hour session twice a day, everyday.
Another important aspect they were focused on was endurance. Ruslan spent an hour every morning performing cardiovascular workouts, either running, swimming, or cycling.
Swimming and cycling were his favorite, but the weather wasn't cooperative. Therefore, he opted for running on treadmills today.
After painfully long twenty minutes, Amil decided he was done torturing him for the day.
Amil was his physical coach, who was provided to him by the team. He was a thirty-eight years old man of Indian origins, with decent experience in training athletes and drivers in particular.
Ruslan had respect for Amil and valued his expertise, since the latter had been working at Lancaster for ten years. Otherwise, he would have long punched him for shouting at his face.
Amil held the responsibility of training world champion David Gomes, subsequently after Gomes left the team, he was assigned the task of training the teenage rookie.
************************************************
The music was playing on Ruslan's phone as he went into the shower. He stood under the hot water, hoping it could relax him a bit, for he needed rest before the car launch event this evening.
Ten minutes later, he was rolling on the bed, checking his phone, seeing that Valero would be back in three hours.
Lara had sent him a voice note which he wasn't going to listen to as he didn't want to engage with whatever she had to say at the moment.
Ruslan hated drama, and Lara was the embodiment of drama, dressed in a teenager's body wearing an innocent smile.
She was mad at him for something he couldn't recall as it was a trivial matter.
He decided to put his phone down, and give her another day to calm down, and try to sleep.
In a few minutes he was fast asleep, exhaustion got the best of him and his head felt so heavy he couldn't lift it up.
"Dude wake up" Ruslan heard someone shouting.
"Ruslan you have two seconds to get up from this bed before I throw you off it" Valero threatened, shaking his body.
Only then did Ruslan's eyes snap open.
"You're back? What time is it?" He asked yawning.
"It's almost six. Hey check this out, I put together this outfit for you" Valero said, passing out the clothes.
"It looks nice, but who's jacket is that?" Ruslan wondered.
"I bought it on my way back. Can't have fans snarking on your looks online, puts my reputation at risk" Valero explained, in the most serious tone.
To Valero, a good public image was crucial. Hence, why he was personally tending to Ruslan's. Telling him what's said about him applies to himself.
Ruslan could never go about anything in life without his twin, he would never say it loud, but Valero knew that, and would find excuses to insert himself anywhere regardless.
Today, he was required to do a lot of talking-not particularly his strongest skill-and speak to a big crowd tonight, all of whom were waiting impatiently to meet him.
Valero on the other hand, was a people's man. He was excellent at all forms of communication, he knew what to say, when to say it, and whom to. He was observant of the media and would instruct Ruslan on specifically what to say.
Ruslan mostly dragged him along to help him navigate interviews, and if he could let him answer in his place, he most certainly would.
They arrived at the 2023 Lancaster racing car launch at exactly 8:30 p.m. The event wasn't going to start until 9, but it never hurt to be early.
He met Jerry upon his arrival, to rehearse what he was requireded to say to the press.
The event was not an actual car launch; it was more of a promotional event, where they would invite the press to announce the sponsors and reveal the car livery along with the drivers racing suits.
Furthermore, it served as a business dinner where the sponsors and stakeholders met with the team principal, drivers, and engineers.
Out of fear of their exclusive technology being revealed before time, each team presented only the chassis of a previously used car.
The first glimpse fans could catch of the actual cars was on season opener weekend on track, and not a minute before.
The team's announcement of Ruslan as their second driver was shocking to the public and not well received, with some journalists describing it as a desperate attempt to make the next generational talent.
So In the light of articles questioning his ability, Ruslan decided to make it his life's mission to prove them wrong.
Prior to making the announcement, Ruslan added his Brazilian last name on his instagram, so it was now Ruslan Martinelli Romanov.
But still his choice to represent Brazil came as a surprise, considering that no one knew of his Brazilian heritage.
"Glad to see you made it early." Ruslan turned to face Stewart, who was greeting him.
" I haven't seen Nikolai yet, is he inside?" Stewart asked Ruslan as he approached him.
"No, my father sends you his regards, he's out of the country and couldn't make it" Ruslan replied.
"What a shame! But no matter. Now come on, there's someone you should meet!" Jim ushered the young lad to follow him.
Jim Stewart was the man occupying the position of team principal and CEO of Lancaster racing for the past twelve years.
Formula 1 teams were much like modren companies, with hundreds of staff and Bureaucratic executives running everything to the core.
As Ruslan prowled the long corridors into a small office, a short dignified man of eighty years old came into sight.
"Here he is. Our man of the moment" another young man in the room greeted.
"And we meet at last, George Harrison." the old man introduced himself.
"Ruslan Martinelli Romanov, honor to meet you sir" Ruslan greeted the man back.
"How are you? Is everything going well?" the young man asked.
"All is well, but I'm afraid Amil will break my neck before Bahrain shakedown" Ruslan joked with men.
"You'll get used to it. Should you need anything, you have my number" the young man offered Ruslan, who in turn thanked him politely.
"Every long lasting partnership is built on veracity so I am going to be frankly honest with you. Signing you was a big risk, a big money consuming risk, so make sure it's worth it. It's true, we've given you little time to prepare, but things rarely go anyone's way in our line of business" George warned, and his serious face expressions ment every word.
George Harrison was one of three stakeholders who owned 20% of the team, giving him unquestionable authority. He had little to no knowledge of cars or racing, but he was a clever business man.
"Adam, how about you show Ruslan around, and tell him what it means to be part of Lancaster" George ordered the young man standing next to his right side.
Adam Harrison was a young British lad of about 23 years old with brown hair and and small brown eyes. He was the grandson of George Harrison, but more importantly, he happened to be his teammate.
Seeing that Ruslan didn't need a lecture on his F1 Rookie season, Adam was actually tasked with briefing him on what he was permitted to do and what was off limits.
The night hadn't started properly, yet Ruslan was already fantasising about a power outage that would end it early, but his wishes weren't being granted, as Jim Stewart stood on the stage talking about how this year will be their year.
Three more hours and he'll be free he told himself.
************************************************
It was only 5 Celsius, yet Ruslan left the windows open, letting the icy breath fill his lungs, while the serenity of the English countryside felt soothing.
He was speeding down the empty road, driving at 90 Km/h on the highway towards Watford.
It was a charming small town a few kilometres North of London, and home of the Lancaster racing factory and headquarters.
Since its creation by legendary Formula 1 driver Thomas Lancaster in 1964, the British team had accumulated ten drivers' and six constructors' championships, emerging as the second most prominent team in F1 history after the German pullet Porsche.
Other nearby towns also housed many Formula 1 teams, as most of them were stationed in approximate areas, much like tech startups in the Silicone Valley area.
There were four British teams in addition to two French, Chinese, and Spanish teams, all of whom called the UK home. The two other remaining teams were the Italian Maserati and the German Porsche, who resided in their respective countries.
Watford welcome sign soon came into view, with massive trees along both road sides leaning in to greet Ruslan.
He navigated through the narrow streets until he came across the enormous facility.
Lancaster HQ was a massive complex of twenty thousand square kilometres already swallowing half of the small town, and employed most of its population.
The facility took the form of a crescent-Lancaster distinguished brand mark. It was spilt into six sections: the Formula 1 department, Formula 2 department, Formula 3 department, F1 academy department, Endurance Racing academy, and the factory where all the types of racing cars were brought to life.
No matter how many time he had visited this architectural masterpiece, Ruslan never managed to get over his astonishment.
It had an all blue glass modern elevation with an enormous silver crescent hovering over the main entrance.
He parked his (carname) next to the white Range Rover of Jim Stewart in the VIP parking lot, that he could now access after graduating to an F1 driver. Meanwhile, there was no sign of Adam as usual.
The spoiled brat, Ruslan thought.
Adam being the grandson of a major stakeholder in the team ment he never had to worry about getting ousted, as a result he had never felt the pressure to put in more than the minimum amount of effort required to drive a Formula 1 car.
On the other hand Ruslan was deeply anxious. Stewart was one of the most merciless team principles in the history of the sport. If Ruslan didn't live up to his expectations, he would be dismissed before the Summer break. And in the event that any of the top five drivers became available on the market, Stewart would get rid of Ruslan in an eye blink in favor of a top gun.
Therefore, Ruslan had to make himself indispensable by becoming the next top gun.
He walked through the glittering main entrance into the spacious foyer spanning two floors, his eyes immediately landed on the large silver crescent centered on the dark blue wall, while the side walls were lined up elegantly with trophies, showcasing half a century of dominant success.
Ruslan strolled the rich black marble floor, making his way toward the young woman at the reception desk across him.
"Good morning, Hannah. Is Chris here?" He asked politely.
"Yeah, he's already waiting for you" Hannah answered, with a bright smile.
"Wow, he must've arrived very early" Ruslan remarked.
"Not at all. He lives nearby" Hannah explained.
Ruslan was hoping to check the factory and get a glimpse of the new car. However, Chris had already arrived, thus his snooping had to wait.
Once the F1 season had ended, the cars would be rendered obsolete, as it was prohibited to use an existing car or any of its part for the next season. Therefore, they had to construct a new car each year.
He started the journey toward the simulators that were on the other side of the enormous facility, navigating through the maze of corridors he now knew by heart.
Adam would definitely get lost here, Ruslan thought.
He walked past an open workspace and thought of stopping by to greet his coworkers, but after seeing Jim Stewart standing in the middle of the room barking orders, he thought better of it.
"Hey, boy. How was your weekend?" Chris greeted Ruslan as the latter walked into the simulator room.
"Painful, I swear Amil is going to break my neck one day" Ruslan complained, as he eyed the complex machines scattered across the large room.
Chris only chuckled as he was typing some data into his computer.
Chris Jones was the person who would fill the shoes of Ruslan's race engineer, and so far Ruslan liked the man.
They had been working jointly for the past few weeks on the simulator in order extract as much data as possible, before the car production process began.
Ruslan headed into the carbon fiber cockpit, which was mounted on massive floor rails that allowed it to slide left and right. He sat in front of 180-degree projection screen.
The simulator in loop was an advanced digital model that could mimic the real life Formula 1 car behaviour on a virtual environment using preset date. It featured a steering wheel similar to the one used in the actual race, in addition to paddles.
It seemed as a highly sophisticated video game kit to the untrained eye, but the truth was further from that.
One key aspect about F1 simulators is that they used an rFactor Pro rig as a base before highly customising it to match their specific needs.
The hardware used on this kit alone cost a fortune, the computing power used to power this software could run an entire organisation.
And Contrary to popular belief, the simulators weren't used to enhance one's driving ability, they were primarily functioning to test the new car components and setups like tyre model, suspension dynamics, engine mapping,...etc.
They generated huge amount of data that could be correlated and would be used for race strategy optimization.
As advanced as the software was, it was error prone, and at times inaccurate.
As a consequence of the severe restrictions imposed on physical testing and its the skyrocketing expenses, simulators were their only method.
Ruslan fired up the machine, running the test.
They had three days to fine tune the details of the car design the entire team had been working on for the past year, before the actual manufacturing phase started.
He would be driving their imaginary car for ten hours today, instead of the regular eight hours in the hopes of wrapping everything up.
Lights out was merely a month away.