Nico
The Bahrain International Circuit media pen was its usual controlled chaos after FP2. Cameras flashed brightly, the kind of relentless glare that would blind an average person who wasn't used to that lifestyle.
Microphones bristled on stands, and reporters crowded the long table where drivers from different teams stood shoulder to shoulder for the group session.
The Friday afternoon sun blazed down, making the air feel thick and heavy even under the shaded canopy. Sweat clung to the back of my neck as I stood between my teammate and a couple of other drivers, but my attention kept drifting to the man two spots away.
Alaric de Villier.
He looked more composed unlike when I had made him flustered earlier. His expression was neutral as he listened to the questions. But I knew him well enough now to see the tension in his jaw and the way his fingers flexed at his sides.
The first question that came was predictable. Something I had expected.
