Leo had told the wind on the main straight — ten days ago, before FP1, before any of it — that by Sunday he would have fifty. He had said it as a target. A calculation made from what the system had told him about the bonus structure and what a strong qualifying session would produce.
He pulled his race suit off his shoulders and sat down on the equipment case in his fireproofs and held the weight of the day in his body for a moment. Not celebrating. Not reflecting in the way people reflected when they had achieved something unexpected.
He had expected this. He had not known if it was achievable, but he had expected to pursue it. There was a difference.
The 55 FU glowed at the edge of his vision and then faded.
The timer was not running.
He had space to breathe.
---
He walked out of the garage into the Melbourne evening.
