I’ve been nervous, but how I’m feeling right now takes it to another level. If my time is worse than Christian’s, I’m going to struggle with my confidence in the rest of the categories too, which is what this test is about.
Am I capable of pushing everything aside to focus on the task ahead? Can I disregard my emotions?
It’s what my grandfather taught me to do, but I’ve never had this kind of pressure on my shoulders. I’ve never had it all come down to me fighting only against my rival, the person I despise the most in the entire universe.
“Is the always collected Tina nervous?” Christian asks as he steps into the room, his white-blonde hair even lighter today and his brown eyes full of amusement.
“You know, there is a processing time on the box. Maybe don’t leave the dye in for that long next time. I wouldn’t want your hair to fall out,” I say, and he laughs at my comment.
“This hair cost me two thousand euros, sweetheart, it’s not box-dyed, and you know it,” he replies, but I give him a confused look.
“My bad. I underestimated how spoiled you truly are for the last time, Your Royal Highness,” I spit, and he takes the seat next to mine.
I stand up immediately, trying to get as far away from him as possible. My body cringes from disgust every single time he comes close to it, and I need to stay in control right now. Balance. I have to find balance. I’m already struggling emotionally, I don’t need him to throw me off physically because of his nausea-inflicting presence.
“How was Baku, by the way? Did you learn anything new? Like sucking off your boyfriend before the race?” He laughs at his ‘joke’, but there’s nothing funny about it.
His family would understand if I punched him in the face, right? I know Andrea would be fine with it after everything they’ve witnessed him put me through, but I don’t know if his family would allow me to stay in Monaco if I messed with their precious, little boy. Probably not.
“You truly think that’s all a woman is good for, don’t you? Just attending to her man, making sure he has everything he needs, giving him head, and disregarding her own desires?” Christian gives me a wicked smile then.
“Not all women, just you.”
I won’t let him succeed in his attempts to throw me off my game. He’s trying to get under my skin, piss me off so anger will take over when I’m in the simulator.
“Although you’re being very selfish with Gabriel at the moment. You’re here all the time now when he probably needs you at his races. You’re only focusing on your career, on what you need.”
His words hit me hard, but not just because of Gabriel. They hit me because I know Adrian, James, Cameron, and Gabriel all miss me. It also doesn’t help that I’ve been feeling selfish for the past week, but Christian will not be the one to guilt-trip me. No one will.
“I might be selfish, but there is no question about you being a sexist, misogynistic asshole.”
His eyes go wide for a moment before he composes himself again.
“Please, how much longer will you fight your attraction for me?” he asks, and I make a vomiting noise.
“You disgust me, and I will never, ever be attracted to you, Christos.”
He furrows his brows at the new name, just like he always does, and I almost smile. It feels like I should pat myself on the back because he always gets so annoyed.
“What’s it with the fucking incorrect names? I’m not here calling you Valeria or some shit,” he complains, and I turn away to hide how proud I am to have gotten in his head. “You will answer me when I speak to you,” he demands, and my shoulders go stiff. “You’re a citizen of Monaco, and I’m your prince. You will show me respect.”
Don’t beat him up. You’ll get kicked out of the academy. Don’t do it. It will ruin your career.
I turn around, curtsying before I raise my head.
“Burn in hell,” I say in Spanish, frustrating him even more.
“You know what? I’m so done with you! You act like you’re so special when I have been training to be a race car driver since I was two years old!” I cross my arms in front of my chest as he yells at me, yet again pretending to be better than me.
“And you’ve been a spoiled dick since birth. What’s your fucking point?” I challenge, and he takes an angry step toward me.
“I’m your prince!” he repeats, and I roll my eyes.
He grabs my shoulders, but I slap his arms away with mine, shoving him backward. Luckily, my wrist hasn’t hurt in a few days, so this action isn’t painful. Christian barely holds himself up, too surprised at my willingness to fight back.
“Touch me again, and I will do far worse than push you,” I warn, but the shock on his face hasn’t worn off entirely. “You’re not my prince. You’re nothing more to me than a rival that needs to be taught a lesson,” I reply, and Andrea walks into the room.
They look us up and down before clearing their throat.
“We’re ready for you, Christos, uh, sorry, I mean Christian,” they say, and the brat walks away without saying anything more to me, anger making his shoulders vibrate. I laugh at Andrea, who turns to wink at me before disappearing into the simulator room.
I sit back down, more nervosity now washing through me. My phone rings and I notice a long message from my brother.
Adrian: I know you’re nervous. I know you’re scared you’ll mess up, but you’ve got this. Out of the two of us, you’ve always been the more focused one. There is nothing you cannot do. It’s time they all found out too. No matter what happens, know I’m the proudest brother in the world. You’ve come a long, difficult way, but it’s all going to be worth it. I love you.
I manage to text him back just in time for Christian to walk back out of the room, a smug smile on his face.
“There is no way you’ll beat that time, Tina.” He takes the seat next to mine again, and I get up to follow Andrea.
“Watch me, Christoph.” His frown fuels my confidence.
Andrea tells me to settle down in the seat of the simulator, handing me the helmet and patting my shoulder to reassure me. I take a couple of seconds to calm my heart and prepare myself for what is to come.
Lorenzo Mattia, Colin Reiner, and Andrea are all watching me do this, and I cannot fuck this up. There has never been a more important moment in my life, and this is the ultimate test to see if I’ve got what it takes. It’s time I prove to them I deserve the opportunities I’ve longed for my entire life.
“Whenever you’re ready,” Mr. Mattia says, and I give him a slight nod.
They chose the Australian track, and I almost smile. I’ve been racing virtually on this one for years, longer than any other.
I take one last deep breath before the simulation starts, pressing down on the gas pedal as soon as I’m given the green light. I speed down the track, avoiding the curbs as much as I can, breaking later than I probably should, and accelerating to the maximum as soon as I know a straight is coming. Everything is going well. Adrenalin courses through me, pushing me further than ever.
Too far.
I almost lose control of the car as I take the curb, but, somehow, it stays on track. It probably cost me a lot of time, which momentarily distracts me. Breathe, race, win. My grandfather’s voice echoes in my ears, and I push myself to focus.
I finish the lap, but I’m not shown my time. They instruct me to wait outside once I’m out of the simulator, and I do as I’m told, ignoring Christian’s presence. After the horrible lap I must have done, I’m not up for another battle. I have to concentrate solely on not bursting into tears of disappointment.
Grandfather would scold me for losing my focus at such an important moment. He’d also give me a big hug and tell me everything is alright, but I can only do one of those for myself right now.
A while later, Andrea and Lorenzo appear in the doorframe, serious expressions on their faces. The team principal takes a step toward us, a piece of paper in his hands. His body turns to Christian, his shoulder rising and falling in steady motions.
“I heard about Valentina’s karting ‘accident’,” he starts, making air quotations around the word, and my rival tenses. “We do not tolerate that behavior in our academy, let alone our Formula One team. Do you understand me?” I’ve never seen Christian look at anyone with as much respect as he does Lorenzo.
“I didn’t do any—” He is cut off before he can finish lying.
“Do you understand me?” Lorenzo repeats, his voice firm and demanding now.
“Yes, sir,” Christian says, and I almost pity him. His usual cold demeanor has vanished, a child-like one taking its place.
“Good. As for your results—” Lorenzo pauses, turning to me with a smile growing on his face. “Valentina was two-tenths faster.” Christian’s eyes go wide before he storms in front of Andrea.
“Which track did she get? She got an easier one, didn’t she? You’re taking pity on her because she’s a girl!” Andrea wipes something off their face, and I realize he must have spat on them in his rage.
“If I were you, I’d sit my ass down before I drag you from the headquarters myself,” they warn, and Christian shakes his head. “I really don’t think you understand what it means for someone who isn’t a cis-gender man in this sport. I’m done listening to someone who wasn’t oppressed talk to me, to us, about fucking pity opportunities.”
The prince suddenly becomes quiet as our instructor puts him in his place.
“Valentina had the same track as you, the same settings, and she even made a slight mistake in the tenth corner, but she was still faster. Let that speak for itself, Your Highness.”
I can barely hold back the smile that wants to light up my face. I did well. I did better than him. My legs vibrate, begging me to jump up and down from excitement. Somehow, I manage to stay grounded, at least for the moment.
“You can all suck my dick!” Christian says in French so the other two don’t understand before he rushes out of the room.
My eyes go wide, but my attention shifts to Lorenzo Mattia, who is holding out his hand for me to shake.
“Well done, Valentina. I’m looking forward to seeing your next results,” he says and leaves the room as well.
Andrea turns to me, and I let the tears of relief drop.
“You look like you could use a hug,” they point out, and I nod before they wrap their arms around me, rubbing my back to comfort me. “I hope you know I will do everything I can to help you get that seat. You deserve it more than anyone I’ve ever taught here,” they say, and I step back to show them my smile.
“I’m thankful for everything you’ve already done.”
“You think I’d let you fight this royal brat by yourself? Never,” they promise and give my shoulder one last squeeze. “Now, it’s about time you got to go home. I’ll see you in about a week,” they say, and excitement fills my chest.
I finally get to see my family again.
