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In the exhilarating world of Formula One, speed was not merely a requirement; it was a fierce obsession that coursed through the veins of every driver like a potent elixir. Jake Carter stood at the legendary Silverstone circuit, his heart pounding with a mix of anticipation and exhilaration as he readied himself for his first testing session with the sleek RB21. This was a momentous occasion; he was about to step into the formidable legacy of Sergio "Checo" Perez, who had recently announced that he was retiring from racing as his performance the previous year had stopped Oracle Red Bull from winning the team championship, which fell to McLaren after a tough battle between the papaya and Ferrari that ended at the season finale in Abu Dhabi. The atmosphere around him was electric, crackling with the roar of powerful engines—a symphony of mechanical might that stirred his excitement and surged adrenaline through his veins.

But this season held an even deeper thrill for Jake—a thrilling blend of fierce competition and his unyielding fascination for his high school crush, Wynter Barkowitz, a bold and spirited werewolf. She represented everything he revered: her luminous smile had the power to brighten the gloomiest of days, her melodic voice could enchant and silence a crowd, and her fiery spirit drew people toward her like moths irresistibly drawn to a flame. With a bravery that belied her youthful 20 years, Wynter had accomplished remarkable feats—from passionately advocating for causes close to her heart to proudly earning the title of the most valuable player on both the Seabrook High and Texas A University football teams. Her audacity in facing challenges left those around her in astonished admiration.

As Jake daydreamed about the moments they could share—exploring breathtaking landscapes hand in hand, each discovery punctuated by laughter—his heart ignited with a passionate fire. This longing spurred him to push the limits of his abilities on the track, transforming the thought of their adventures into a blazing motivation. The dream of racing through life together, navigating the stunning beauty of the world while embracing the thrill of competition, compelled him to embrace the adrenaline-fueled journey that lay ahead fully.

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The racing season was finally igniting, an exhilarating momentum surging forward after two grueling months filled with intense training sessions and meticulous preparation. The atmosphere crackled with anticipation, buzzing like the engines that would soon roar to life. With fierce competitors like the legendary Lewis Hamilton, the exceptionally talented Charles Leclerc, and his teammate, the relentless Max Verstappen, in the mix, Jake felt the weight of expectations pressing down on him like an oppressive mantle. Each day, as he pushed himself through grueling workouts in the gym, the air thickened with the pungent scent of sweat and burning determination. During countless hours spent analyzing race footage on his laptop, his mind would often drift, like a leaf dancing on a gentle breeze, to Wynter—a bright and captivating presence that brightened his thoughts even in the most intense moments.

Max, known for his wise words, often shared insights that resonated deeply with Jake. "You have to take a chance on it, man," he urged one evening, his voice blending camaraderie with heartfelt advice. "If there's even the slightest possibility of something real, seize it fiercely. But stay grounded; we'll need every ounce of your focus and support out on that track if we're going to claim those championship titles."

Taking Max's heartfelt advice to heart, Jake made a resolute vow to reach out to Wynter. The idea of contacting the people from Seabrook seemed like a whimsical daydream—a tale spun from the soft threads of fairytales and long-lost fantasies. Yet, a fierce determination began to blossom within him, growing like a wildflower breaking through concrete. He was determined to weave together the thrilling but demanding world of motorsport with the tender emotions that had flickered within him since high school. Little did he know that the universe was preparing a serendipitous encounter; he was meant to cross paths with his crush sooner than he imagined, just as the much-anticipated Canadian Grand Prix—the very first race of the season—was poised to unfold in the breathtaking town of Seabrook. The alluring prospect of race day loomed ahead, promising a thrilling tapestry of speed, fierce competition, and perhaps even the tantalizing touch of romance he so deeply craved, making the air electrically charged with endless possibilities.

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The annual Prawn event was a dazzling celebration, alive with the vibrant colors and rich sounds of local culture, drawing in a diverse crowd of remarkable individuals from every walk of life. The atmosphere buzzed with excitement, and Jake could feel an exhilarating blend of nerves and anticipation coursing through him, his heart racing as he prepared to seize this golden opportunity to meet Wynter. He arrived at the venue, clad in a meticulously tailored black suit that accentuated his tall frame with elegance. The fabric, fine and luxurious, was adorned with subtle patterns that whispered sophistication and confidence, ensuring he stood out amidst the throng of festival-goers. As he stepped into the high school gym of Seabrook which has hosted the event since 2010, a kaleidoscope of colorful lights danced around him, casting a warm, dreamlike glow that softened his racing heart and wrapped him in a welcoming embrace.

As he surveyed the bustling crowd, a surge of excitement surged through him when he finally spotted her. Wynter appeared at the center of the lively chaos, radiating a magnetic energy that seemed to draw everyone in like moths to a flame. Her hair cascaded around her face in soft, shimmering waves, catching the ambient light and glowing like spun gold. The flowing dress she wore was a masterpiece, adorned with shimmering sequins that sparkled with every movement, reflecting the vibrant hues of the event around her. When their eyes locked, an infectious smile illuminated her face, instantly brightening her already radiant features. "Jake!" she exclaimed, her voice a melodious blend of surprise and delight as she glided through the crowd toward him, weaving gracefully among the colorful figures.

Their conversation began with an effortless flow, words spilling out as naturally as the music that filled the air. They delved deep into their passions, dreams, and aspirations. Jake shared the immense pressures he faced on the racetrack, describing the adrenaline-pumping whirlwind of competition, the roar of engines, and the weight of expectations that enveloped his life like a heavy cloak. In turn, Wynter captivated him with her own stories—delightful, adventurous tales that painted vivid pictures of her hiking through rugged, breathtaking mountains, dancing beneath a blanket of stars during spontaneous gatherings, and volunteering for causes close to her heart. Each story pulled him deeper into her world, peeling back layers of her vibrant and spirited personality.

"Have you met Zed and Addison?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she gestured toward a lively group nearby. "They're all about breaking down barriers and embracing who you truly are, no matter your differences. Zed is an astounding dancer—watching him move is like witnessing poetry in motion! And Addison?" She paused, her excitement palpable, as if she were sharing a well-kept secret. "She has this remarkable ability to lead and inspire; she brings out the very best in everyone around her. You'd absolutely adore them!"

As she spoke, Jake couldn't help but be enchanted by Wynter's enthusiasm; the passion that laced her voice painted vivid images in his mind. He was drawn in by her laughter—a warm, genuine sound that felt like music, stirring something within him he hadn't anticipated. Leaning closer, seduced by the enchanting atmosphere and their burgeoning connection, he spoke softly, his words laced with sincerity, "I definitely need to meet them before I leave, but I need you to know, that you inspire me too, you know. Everything you've done is inspiring and you have athletic feats with the Seabrook High and Texas A football teams that I can only DREAM of replicating." He watched with a mixture of delight and tenderness as a soft blush crept onto her cheeks, her eyes shimmering with an unspoken understanding that hung palpably in the air between them.

However, as the evening wore on, the magical essence of the night began to wane, and Jake reluctantly acknowledged that all good things must come to an end. The ticking of the clock reminded him of the rapidly approaching first Grand Prix set for that weekend in Canada at the Seabrook Street Circuit, an event that demanded his full attention and unwavering focus.

"Wow, look at the time," he said, glancing at his watch, astonished by how long they had been lost in their conversation. "I really need to prepare; I almost forgot that this week marks the start of the first race week of the year. It's been truly incredible talking to you, Wynter."

"Well, if that's the case, you might need a place to sleep," she suggested, her playful grin infused with a mix of hope and humor. "Why not come back with me and crash at the Wolf Den for the night?" The invitation was spontaneous, her voice a tempting whisper that sent a flutter of excitement racing through his heart.

"Are you sure I won't be a problem, Wyn?" he asked, surprise and intrigue mingling within him as he considered this unexpected offer.

"No, I doubt it would be a problem at all… unless you count the delightful 'sound disturbances' we might create while getting to know each other better," she replied, her tone turning cheeky, her gaze locking onto his, bold and inviting.

"Alright, if you truly think so, then yes, lead the way, Wynter," he answered, exhilaration coursing through him as he let go of any lingering doubts. At that moment, he chose the intoxicating thrill of adventure over the sterile comfort of the hotel room waiting for him. With a heart brimming with hope and excitement, he followed Wynter, eager to uncover the mysteries of the night that lay ahead, reveling in the captivating presence of the girl who had effortlessly captured his dreams.

"Yay, I finally get to bring someone back home! Now I might not be able to get joked about for never having been laid yet… Oh well, wolf can only hope." Wynter said with a hint of playful, but also a hint of depression. "Really? A girl with perfection like you and you've never been approached? That makes me feel even luckier." Jake said as he leaned for a kiss as the excited she-wolf led the way through the forest back to her home, which the overly excited wolf meeting the motion in the middle, as they stayed tongue-tied within the den's lounge room for over ten minutes until the alpha of the pack, Willa Lykensen approached the duo and cleared her throat.

"Let me guess Wynter, you met this guy at the event in town welcoming in all the grand prix drivers and you want me to use alien tech that I borrowed from A-Spen to soundproof your room as you're about to do stuff you don't want the pups to hear?" With each word that came out of Willa's mouth, the duo's blush kept getting brighter and brighter as they got more and more embarrassed. "Don't worry, there's no shame in that, as long as I hope you were planning to tell me and not keep it secretive." The lead wolf quickly stated, helping bring down the pink in the cheeks of the pair.

"Uh, yes ma'am" Jake quickly stuttered out as he was slightly less pinked from blushing but still embarrassed that he got caught by the pack alpha. "I was just at the event sitting by my lonesome when this beauty approached me and we've been talking and getting to know each other for the past five or so hours." Jake finally and embarrassingly finished as Wynter dragged Jake into her room after breaking into Wyatt's room to steal protection from the wolf who's dating the undead, but spirited Eliza Zambi. Wynter quickly pushed Jake onto her bed and locked the door while turning on the soundproofing.

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As the days slipped away toward the eagerly anticipated first race of the year, Jake and Wynter found themselves drawn together in a whirlwind of growing affection. Their connection deepened as they exchanged playful messages, shared tender kisses, and enjoyed warm, comforting cuddles, all the while enthusiastically plotting how they would celebrate each thrilling race together. The exhilarating world of competition fused seamlessly with their shared dreams of adventure, creating a bond that felt more profound than ever before.

With the Canadian Grand Prix looming on the horizon, the atmosphere buzzed with an almost electric anticipation. As Jake settled into the cockpit of his sleek race car, he could feel the raw adrenaline surging through his veins, electrifying him as if he were part of the machine itself. The uplifting music reverberated throughout the cockpit, sending vibrations through the chassis, and with every beat, he was reminded vividly of Wynter's fiery spirit. Each pulsating rhythm ignited his determination and focus, making him feel as though she were right there beside him, her voice echoing in encouragement.

Just before the race weekend, Wynter had gifted Jake a specially crafted good luck charm—an intricately designed bracelet that symbolized both courage and luck. He wore it proudly on his wrist, a tangible source of motivation that bolstered his confidence. This charm fueled his resolve and tenacity during the qualifying rounds, ultimately leading him to secure pole position—the coveted first starting slot for the Grand Prix the next day. As he climbed out of his car, inhaling deeply, he felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude, knowing that both his skills and Wynter's unwavering belief in him had paved the way to this moment.

Race day dawned with a perfect blend of excitement and nerves dancing in the air. With Wynter's presence providing a comforting sense of strength, Jake felt invincible, ready to tackle whatever challenges lay ahead. "Alright, Jake, today's a big day, mate. It's your first race in Formula One, and a little lion named Max told me your girlfriend is in attendance today. Just remember not to let that distract you from the main goal: performing well out there," Jake's engineer, Hugh Bird, chimed in through the radio channel, his voice steady and reassuring. "This is a unique circuit and the track that is debuting this year. This Grand Prix will race for a grueling 65 laps, necessitating two pit stops. What's your strategy regarding the tires and stop timings? When do you want to pit, and what tire compounds are we working with?"

Jake, with his racing instincts kicking in, replied with determination, "I want to start on the hard compound and push them until there's no more grip left. This way, I can extend my stint without a pit stop, allowing me to build a gap from the leaders while they inevitably stop. Can you analyze the data and see if I can make this a one-stop race by starting on the hards, pitting at lap 52, and then switching to softs for a strong finish?" His confidence radiated through the radio, amplified by the knowledge that Wynter would be waiting to celebrate his success.

"That strategy has potential, but you'll need to exercise considerable caution during the final laps leading up to the pit stop. The hard tires tend to lose their grip after approximately 49 laps, which could significantly affect your performance on the track," Hugh cautioned, his tone reflecting a blend of approval for the strategy and a strong sense of warning about the risks involved.

"No problem! During my reconnaissance laps, I spotted some tighter corners in Zombieland, near the high school, and within the Forbidden Forest. If they make any mistakes—like a contact into another car or a brake lockup—the roads are so narrow that they'd likely have to red flag the race, granting me a free pit stop," Jake countered, slightly exasperated with Hugh's doubts about his ability to maintain the car.

"While I understand your point, I want you to keep in mind that if a red flag or safety car is deployed, every driver will have the same thought, and they'll pit too. You could end up close to drivers with faster cars," Hugh replied, picking up on Jake's challenging tone.

"Good point. I wasn't fully considering that aspect. So how about a pit stop at lap 45 for the medium compound instead?" Jake suggested, realizing he needed to compromise with his engineer.

"Yeah, that adjustment works. You've got the mechanical approval. Let's get the team to prepare the tires, and we'll get you on the grid. The race starts in 25 minutes," Hugh stated decisively, bringing an end to the radio debate over tire strategy.

As the minutes ticked down and anticipation mounted, the Canadian national anthem filled the air, performed by the renowned musical artist The Weeknd. The national flag was presented by a proud contingent from the local army outpost, adding a sense of grandeur to the occasion. The drivers finally nestled into their cars, adrenaline and focus mixing in the atmosphere, ready to embark on the race.

There were only a few seconds of stillness before two of the five lights flickered to green, signaling the start of the formation lap.

"Alright, kid. That's your indicator for the formation lap. Get one clean run in before settling back into your grid position. Stay behind the safety car; arriving at the grid before it enters the pit lane incurs a time penalty," Hugh reminded him carefully, ensuring Jake was fully aware of the rules.

"Yes, sir. And if you could limit the radio chatter, that would help a lot. I need to focus on the race, and while your guidance is appreciated, I find it a bit distracting," Jake requested, his determination shining through.

"Understood. I'll only call out when it's time to pit or if any incidents happen on track," Hugh replied, ready to support him in the race.

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The first race of the season, a spectacle that had been eagerly awaited by fans and teams alike, roared to life as the lights above the track blinked out in rapid succession, signaling the commencement of the grand prix. An exhilarating wave of excitement washed over the crowd, their cheers and shouts creating an electric atmosphere as the powerful cars surged forward onto the asphalt, tires screeching and engines roaring in a symphony of adrenaline. For Jake, the initial moments of the race were blissfully devoid of chaos, a stark contrast to the turbulent experience Hugh had endured while managing a driver in Canada. That race had ended in a heart-wrenching disaster when his driver collided with a barrier, triggering a catastrophic spiral of poor performance that ultimately forced his retirement from the sport. As Hugh watched Jake deftly navigate the curves of the track in the RB21, pushing the limits and reaching impressive speeds, he felt a pang of nostalgia for Checo. Jake's remarkable driving skills were unlocking potential and pushing boundaries that his former teammate had never reached during their time together.

"Alright, Jake, we're currently on lap 38," Hugh communicated over the radio, glancing anxiously at his watch, astonished by how quickly the time had slipped away amidst the fierce competition.

"Lap 38? That's insane!" Jake exclaimed, his voice laced with disbelief and exhilaration. "I still feel like I'm only on lap 20. Where does all the time go when you're out here racing?" he mused aloud, reflecting Hugh's own thoughts. The race had taken on a surreal quality, each passing minute feeling like mere seconds, the thrill of the track stretching time itself into a dizzying blur. Little did they know, an incident was on the horizon that would shatter their sense of speed and make time feel agonizingly slow.

"Okay, Jake, that's the start of lap 40 for you, but stay alert. The McLaren duo of Oscar and Lando have just exited the pit lane, and you're one lap ahead of them. Please let them pass," Hugh urged, his tone firm yet cautious.

"Why would I let them pass, sir? They outperformed Max and Checo so much last year. They should be able to overtake me on their own," Jack replied, his voice tinged with animosity toward the Papaya drivers.

"Alright then, but just exercise caution… they are pushing hard to catch up to the Mercedes drivers for 4th and 5th place. We don't want them to create an incident that could derail your impressive race," Hugh said, resigning himself to the relentless challenge of guiding Jack as he passed the Zombietown/Seabrook Unification Gate.

"Okay, Hugh, prepare the pit crew. I need those tires now. I'm seriously losing grip with my current set," Jack said urgently, skirting a barrier as the lack of tire grip threatened his control.

"Copy that, Jack. The crew is ready. Box this lap," Hugh replied, relieved that his driver was making a prudent decision at such a critical moment.

"Y-*cars hit, metal scraping*-ng, this lap," Jack communicated, calm evident in his voice, as chaos erupted behind his car, the sound of clashing metal echoing through the air, Jack not knowing what just happened.

"Sorry, no copy, try again. I repeat, no copy, try again," Hugh said, a wave of panic rising within him as Jack's radio abruptly cut out, leaving him in a state of anxious uncertainty.

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With forty intense laps completed in the Canadian Grand Prix, the atmosphere turned dramatically chaotic as the race unfolded. Tension hung thick in the air, but nothing could prepare the spectators for the sudden and horrific crash that took place. Esteban Ocon's car, maneuvering aggressively, collided forcefully with his rival and former teammate, Pierre Gasly. The impact sent shockwaves through the crowd as both cars lost control, skidding wildly across the track. The disastrous chain reaction not only affected them but also involved their respective teammates, leading to a devastating four-car pile-up right by the Seabrook/Zombietown unification gate. Metal crumpled and smoke billowed, as a scene of destruction unfolded before the eyes of startled fans.

Hugh, the team strategist, received the urgent communication from race control as the chaos erupted. "Okay, Jack, we've just gotten word from the FIA: there's a red flag at the exit of the second sector, completely obstructing the track. You need to enter the pit lane to allow them to clear the wreckage," he announced over the radio, his voice steady yet laced with concern. "All four cars involved are from the Haas and Alpine teams. It's a complete demolition; they're going to need a crane to get them off the circuit."

Despite the grave situation, Hugh felt a flicker of triumph, having sensed that such a clash might occur, yet he couldn't shake the anxiety gnawing at him for the drivers' safety involved in the crash.

Jack chimed in, observing the unfolding drama. "Ha! That rivalry between the Enstone duo just never seems to fizzle out, does it?" he remarked, as he expertly navigated his car into the pit lane, pulling up to the team garage where the mechanics were already on high alert. They rushed into action, their faces a mix of urgency and determination, ready to fit his car with fresh medium compound tires, the exact strategy Hugh and Jack had meticulously discussed before the race began.

"Yup, you're completely right about that," Hugh continued, relaying the unfolding situation to Jack. "Both Pierre and Esteban have exited their cars and are now engaged in a heated argument, their frustration palpable in the thick air of tension. The local police and track officials arrived moments later, just in time to intervene and prevent what was about to turn into a physical confrontation." He could almost picture the scene—two furious drivers, gesturing wildly as onlookers watched, their hearts racing with the lingering adrenaline of the crash.

"You'd think that after narrowly escaping such a perilous situation, the drivers would share a moment of gratitude for each other's safety. But no, that's not the case. It's quite disappointing, honestly," Jack reflected, feeling a mix of disbelief and frustration at the unsportsmanlike behavior exhibited by the Haas and Alpine drivers. "At least they're both okay, though," he added, trying to find a silver lining amidst the chaos.

"That's absolutely true. Regardless, I need you to head back to the team garage as soon as possible. There's an enticing food platter waiting for you, filled with an array of gourmet sandwiches, colorful fruits, and sweet desserts. Plus, there's a concerned girl who has been anxiously glancing at the track, eager to see you and hear about how everything went," Hugh said, his tone shifting to a more cheerful note as he sought to lighten the mounting tension surrounding the race.

"Understood, sir! I'm heading that way now, passing by the Williams mechanics, who are ecstatic, cheering loudly and exhaling deep breaths of relief, clearly thankful that they've avoided being part of any damage this time. I can't blame them; last season was a total nightmare for the Williams team." Jack replied, his voice carrying a mix of camaraderie and sympathy as he navigated the bustling pit area. He then approached the door to the team paddock, ready to reunite with his crew and the respite they had to offer after the thrilling rollercoaster of the race, which wasn't even finished yet.

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"OH MY WOLF!" Wynter exclaimed, her voice bursting forth with a whirlwind of excitement and relief that reverberated throughout the noisy paddock, a realm alive with the sounds of engines revving and pit crews bustling. In a spontaneous surge of emotion, she jumped into Jack's strong arms, feeling the solidness of his body envelop her in a protective embrace. The adrenaline still coursed through her veins from the recent on-track incident, a close call that had left her heart racing, and she was overwhelmed with gratitude that he stood before her, safe and uninjured.

"It's okay, Wyn. I'm fine, baby," Jack reassured her, his deep, soothing voice cutting through her panic. His warm breath brushed against her ear, a familiar comfort that eased her worries. "You don't need to worry about me. I'm just as happy to see you, but could you please get down? I haven't eaten all day, and someone from catering is trying to hand me a plate."

As he spoke, he carefully balanced Wynter in his arms, his strength evident as he maintained his composure amidst the chaotic scene around them. The bright colors of team uniforms and the frenetic energy of the crowd created a vivid backdrop, but Jack's humor shone through, his teasing tone lightening the gravity of the moment.

"Too much, too much? I knew it; I'm sorry!" Wynter stammered, her cheeks flushing a deep crimson as she gracefully leaped out of Jack's embrace. Her bright blue eyes sparkled with a mixture of concern and relief as she meticulously scanned his face for any signs of distress or pain. "I'm just so relieved that you weren't in that crash. It looked terrifying." The tremor in her voice was unmistakable, underscoring the bond they shared, strengthened by the shared experience of fear and adrenaline.

"Yeah, I totally understand that," Jack replied, a soft smile spreading across his face as he reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's head back to my driver room where we can talk privately. I'd rather not stick around here; the media will swarm me to chat about the race, and honestly, I really don't like doing media interviews."

With that, he extended his hand toward her, his fingers strong and warm, inviting her to take hold. Wynter felt a flutter in her stomach as she clasped his hand, their fingers intertwining like a promise. Together, they navigated through the throngs of team members, participants, and journalists, moving toward the sanctuary of the Red Bull driver privacy rooms, a small refuge from the chaos of the racetrack outside. The noise of the crowd faded behind them, replaced by the reassuring presence of each other as they sought comfort in their shared space.

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"Whoa, Hugh, you really need to knock next time!" Wynter exclaimed, her voice slicing through the air with surprise as she spun around to confront the unexpected intruder. Her heart raced, the suddenness of his entrance leaving her momentarily breathless.

"I wasn't expecting that at all," she added, trying to regain her composure.

"I'll be back in five minutes," Hugh replied, his cheeks flushing a deep crimson as he awkwardly shifted his gaze away, wanting to escape the intensity of the moment.

-5 minutes later-

"Alright, Jack! Just the person I was hoping to see!" Hugh declared with newfound energy as he stepped into the lounge room. This time, he fully embraced the vibrant atmosphere of triumph that surrounded him.

The lounge was a sleek, modern sanctuary, meticulously tailored for the new driver. A colossal, high-definition flat-screen television dominated one wall, its polished frame reflecting the soft glow of the ambient lighting. The TV seemed to pulse with potential, inviting entertainment and relaxation. Plush sofas with inviting cushions were arranged around it, creating an intimate space perfect for unwinding after a long day.

The soundproofing system, engineered to echo the one in Wynter's own room within the Den, worked wonders. It ensured that conversations—along with the occasional embarrassing sound Jack and Wynter were testing—remained confidential, providing a cocoon of tranquility that separated them from the clamorous world beyond. The atmosphere was thick with a sense of camaraderie and lightheartedness, momentarily overshadowing the outside distractions.

Hugh's expression shifted as he continued, his voice taking on a more serious tone. "The FIA is at it again with their questionable decision-making," he said, shaking his head in disbelief. "They've just announced that the session is over because we've exceeded the two-hour time limit allocated for racing sessions. However, since more than 75% of the Grand Prix was completed before the stoppage, they require you to participate in the podium ceremony. You'll receive the full 25 points for your victory, along with an additional point for your fastest lap," he concluded, a broad smile breaking across his face, mingling with disbelief at the turn of events.

As the words sank in, Wynter and Jack erupted into jubilant cheers, their voices mixing in a symphony of celebration that filled the room with a buoyant energy. The walls seemed to vibrate with their excitement, amplifying the moment.

"That's incredible! I can't believe I won! I never imagined I would actually beat legendary drivers like Lewis Hamilton and Max Verstappen in my very first race!" Jack exclaimed, his voice soaring with exhilaration and disbelief, his eyes sparkling with wonder as he processed the milestone.

Yet, beneath the surface of his celebration, a shadow of disappointment flickered in his expression. "I have to admit, though, it's a bit frustrating," he confessed, running a hand through his tousled hair, his brow furrowing slightly. "I feel like I got a bit lucky with race control stepping in. Hamilton was only two-tenths of a second behind me as we entered the pit lane. If it weren't for that, he would have almost definitely outpaced me at the restart," he added, his tone revealing a hint of self-doubt.

Jack's mind raced with thoughts of how the media—especially Sky Sports—would portray this remarkable victory. Would they focus on his talent, or would they frame it as a lucky break? He could already envision the headlines, and a knot of determination tightened in his stomach. He yearned for the next race, craving the opportunity to prove himself as more than just a name in the headlines, ready to show the world that this victory was not merely a fluke but the beginning of an extraordinary journey in the world of racing.

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After receiving the podium news from his head engineer, Jake hurriedly made his way to the cooldown room adjacent to the podiums, his heart still pounding from the adrenaline of an intense race, and Hugh's catch. The room itself was dimly lit, creating an almost shadowy atmosphere, and it was thick with tension. Inside, the air felt charged as it housed two of the sport's most distinguished drivers: Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton. Both men wore expressions that betrayed their frustration, their brows furrowed and jaws tense, reflecting the heat of competition that had just unfolded on the track.

"Oh, hey guys... um, sorry about what happened back there," Jake said carefully, his voice tinged with both apprehension and sincerity as he approached the duo. He hesitated for a moment, his instincts warning him that he might be intruding on a private moment of reflection for two fierce rivals.

"Nah, it's alright, mate," Lewis replied, forcing a faint smile that barely masked his disappointment. "I'm angry about it, but I understand. The track's too damaged. Just remember, I'm coming for that win next weekend in Australia. Don't come crying to the FIA when you lose then," he teased, trying to inject some levity into the otherwise somber atmosphere. His playful jab momentarily eased the tension, and Jake felt a wave of relief wash over him, allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips.

"Oh, trust me, 44, I'm ready for you. I think I just got lucky today. These are the very streets where I first karted and learned to drive, giving me an advantage over everyone else," Jake explained, pride swelling in his chest as he recounted his deep familiarity with the circuit that ran through his hometown. His enthusiasm was palpable, and both Lewis and Max nodded in acknowledgment of his experience.

"That makes sense," Max chimed in, his tone measured and deliberate. While he typically exuded confidence and vibrant energy, today he seemed preoccupied, his gaze frequently darting toward the door. An FIA officer had entered the room, signaling that it was almost time for them to make their way to the podium, where victory and defeat would soon be celebrated and scrutinized.

"What's the matter, Max? Cat got your tongue? Which one, Donatello?" Jake quipped, genuinely curious about the sudden hush that had enveloped his usually outspoken teammate.

"No, I'm fine, Jake," Max replied, running a frustrated hand through his tousled hair, a gesture that indicated his inner turmoil. "I'm just a bit wary about what I say around the FIA these days. Last year, I accumulated so many grid penalties and fines—along with community service—just because I dare to speak my mind about that piece of junk we had, the RB20," he said, his voice heavy with the burden of his past experiences, undeniably aware of the consequences of his candidness.

"By the way, Jake, before we head to the podium, can I ask you something?" Max said, gripping Jake's arm gently and halting him at the door. "Uh, yeah, sure, Max. Ask away," Jake replied, a flicker of apprehension sparking within him as he wondered what topic might arise next.

"Is it really true that Hugh walked in on you and Wynter in your driver's room?" Max asked a mischievous sparkle in his eyes barely concealed behind a mask of seriousness, clearly holding back laughter.

"Oh, um, how did you know?" Jake stammered, a rush of embarrassment flooding through him.

"Just asking because, from my room, I distinctly heard Wynter yelling at Hugh for not knocking…" Max explained, his voice trailing off, imbued with humor and a hint of curiosity as he gauged Jake's reaction, unsure if he was about to tread on sensitive ground.

"Oh, no, yeah, yeah, he did…" Jake finally admitted, heat rising to his cheeks as mortification washed over him, the memory of the playful chaos flashing vividly in his mind.

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Wynter's POV*

"AND IN FIRST PLACE, WINNING HIS FIRST EVER F1 RACE, JAKE CARTER!" The track announcer's voice thundered through the loudspeakers, his excitement palpable as Jake emerged from the cooldown room, an aura of disbelief and elation surrounding him. A broad, infectious smile lighting up his face, he stepped forward to the top podium, his heart pounding in rhythm with the roaring cheers of the crowd. Fans erupted into a chorus of jubilation, and Jake, caught in the moment, began waving enthusiastically, blowing at least twenty kisses in my direction. Each kiss felt like a heartwarming gift, making this extraordinary moment all the more special.

The atmosphere was charged with electricity, and I was nearly overwhelmed with my own exhilaration as I watched him absorb the magnitude of his victory. It was a particularly stirring moment when the national anthem of the United States filled the air; the familiar notes swelled, igniting a deep sense of pride and emotion within me. Almost immediately afterward, the music shifted to the Austrian national anthem, honoring Red Bull, the team he had dedicated countless hours and boundless energy.

Amidst the celebration, I felt a pang of embarrassment from when Jake caught sight of me. I could read the surprise on his face, which turned a shade of crimson once the champagne and Red Bull spray started flying about. It was clear he had become aware of the now paddock-wide gossip surrounding our little incident. Anyway, thank you, wolf goddess, for guiding him on this incredible journey and bringing him into my life. He's truly remarkable.

Jake's POV*

I stood on the victory platform, a sense of exhilaration washing over me as I celebrated our hard-fought win. The crowd roared with enthusiasm, and I felt my heart swell with emotion during the stirring national anthems that resonated through the air. It was an awe-inspiring moment; the atmosphere was electric, and I could barely contain my joy.

As I soaked in the cheers and applause, I noticed Wynter standing nearby. Our eyes met, and I saw her blush slightly at my enthusiastic gesture. Her radiant smile only added to my excitement, making the victory feel even more special and meaningful.

Then, Christian Horner, the team principal, approached the stage with a warm expression on his face. Instead of the traditional champagne bottle typically reserved for the winner, he presented me with a humorous twist—a wine bottle filled with Red Bull. This was a thoughtful gesture, acknowledging that I was still underage and couldn't partake in the typical celebratory drink. I appreciated his kindness and sense of fun, which fit perfectly with the jubilant atmosphere.

When it came time to celebrate with the crowd, I joyfully sprayed Lewis and Max with the energy drink, laughter ringing out as the sticky energy formula and bubbly alcohol splashed across us. The excitement peaked when, in a delightful surprise, Hugh and Max joined the fray. It's customary for the other drivers and staff members on stage to engage in a playful "tag team" celebration with the winner, and in that moment, I felt the thrill of being part of that tradition as I was drenched with bubbly goodness. The air was filled with laughter, joy, and a sense of camaraderie that made the celebration unforgettable.

Yet, amidst all the exhilaration, a touch of embarrassment crept in. I couldn't shake the feeling that when Hugh caught me and Wynter sharing a moment, it quickly became the latest gossip of the paddock, as Max teasingly pointed out. The thought of our little secret being the talk of the place added a playful hint of scandal to the day, but it was all part of the adventure. Reflecting on the chaos, laughter, and unforgettable connections made today, I knew this win would be etched in mine, and everyone's memory forever.

Chapter Text

"Alright, Jake! It's the end of the first race weekend, and you walk away the winner!" Christian's voice boomed across the paddock, slicing through the jubilant atmosphere like a knife. Cheers erupted from the team, their faces lighting up with pride and excitement, while the sound of clattering equipment and laughter filled the air. In an instant, the celebration turned into a wild frenzy as Red Bull cans flew open, sending a fizzy cascade spraying in every direction. I found myself drenched in a mix of sticky soda and champagne, laughing as Wynter squealed beside me.

As the festivities continued to swell around us, Christian raised his hand to command attention, the buzz of celebration shifting to a more serious undertone. With a purposeful stride, he walked toward me, his brow furrowed in concentration. "Jake, you need to see me in my office. Now." The tone of his voice sent a shiver down my spine; I couldn't help but sense the weight of the impending conversation.

Wynter's expression shifted to one of concern as her eyes widened, and a deep gulp escaped her throat, a clear indicator of her worry. She waved at me, her expression a mix of fear and uncertainty, as I stepped away from the lively crowd. The heavy door of Christian's office closed behind me with a soft, but final, click.

Inside, Christian leaned back against his desk, arms crossed, his brow slightly furrowed as he took a deep breath. "Jake…" he began, his voice steady yet filled with a hint of exasperation. "There was an incident that was brought to my attention, courtesy of your loud-mouthed girlfriend, shouting at your race engineer." His gaze fixed on me, a blend of concern and expectation written on his face. "I trust you can get that fixed, right?"

Heat flushed to my cheeks as a wave of embarrassment washed over me. I could feel the ground beneath my feet shift slightly as I struggled to respond. "Uh, yes sir, I can definitely handle that. Is it going to be a significant issue for her to accompany us to Australia?" My heart raced at the thought of Wynter being barred from the paddock, and anxiety prickled at my skin.

Christian's expression softened slightly as he shook his head. "No, you're perfectly fine. However, it's important to note that Hugh should have knocked before entering. However, this is strike one for her, and you've just earned your first penalty point. If you accumulate eleven more penalty points, you'll face a ban from the next race." His words hung in the air, a stark reminder of the tightrope we were walking in this high-stakes environment.

"Yes sir. I'll talk to her and I understand the consequences," I replied, steeling myself. I scratched the back of my neck, trying to shift the conversation to lighter matters. "What restaurant are we going to for the team dinner?"

Christian straightened, the beginnings of a smile breaking through his serious demeanor. "You'll receive an address soon. For now, I suggest you head back to your hotel room and clean yourself up. You smell like a combination of Red Bull, sweat, your girl, and champagne, and honestly, you're a bit sticky," he remarked, shaking his head in bemusement, a hint of amusement glimmering in his eyes.

"Yes sir. I'll see you at dinner," I replied, relief washing over me as I turned and exited the office. The lively sounds of the paddock enveloped me once again, vibrant and pulsating with energy, while I couldn't shake the mix of exhilaration and anxiety from the day's events.

Chapter Text

Jake scanned the vast paddock, his heart racing in his chest as he searched for any sign of Wynter. The air was thick with tension, and he felt a knot of anxiety tightening in his stomach. Despite the bustling activity around him, she was nowhere to be found. With a sense of urgency, he made his way to his driver's room, hoping to gather his thoughts and find a way to reach her.

As he entered the room, his eyes were drawn to a sticky note brightly contrasting against the cluttered counter. He picked it up, his pulse quickening as he recognized Wynter's familiar, elegant handwriting. The message was straightforward but heavy with emotion:

"Hey Jake, I overheard your conversation with Mr. Horner. It's become clear to me that I've been a bad wolf and caused you trouble. I'll be stepping away from the paddock now. Call me if you want to talk."

Panic surged through him at her words. The thought of her leaving without any chance of reconciliation was unbearable. He quickly pulled out his phone and dialed her number, but the call went straight to voicemail. Desperate, he left a heartfelt message, pouring out his feelings and urging her to meet him at his hotel. He specifically asked her to wear the stunning dress she had worn to Prawn, the memory of which filled him with longing.

Meanwhile, Wynter was in her cozy den, listening intently to the message. A sense of urgency washed over her as she absorbed Jake's words. Without a moment's hesitation, she gathered her thoughts and belongings, her determination igniting a fire within her. She rushed out of the den, her heart pounding as she raced to the address he had given her, fervently hoping she would arrive in time to change the course of their fate.

When she finally reached the hotel, she spotted Jake standing near the entrance, his expression a mix of relief and anticipation. "I'm here, Jake. What did you want to say?" She stated, her tone assertive, confident that she had earned a second chance.

"Wyn, baby, you came! I didn't expect you to show up," Jake exclaimed, his voice ringing with both surprise and happiness. "I just wanted to tell you that you're still welcome in the team, but I'll need to punish you," he said, a playful gleam in his eyes.

Wynter raised an eyebrow, a teasing smile breaking across her face. "So I'm invited to the team dinner? Is that why you asked me to bring the fancy dress?" She picked up on his playful tone, enjoying the banter before she stated, "Is that so? I can comply with my punishment, as long as I don't have to pay for my meal tonight," she quipped back, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

Jake chuckled softly. "Glad to hear that, babe. So, are you coming to Australia with us? The plane leaves tomorrow morning," he asked, a hint of excitement in his voice.

Wynter's face lit up. "Yeah, I was hoping you'd invite me! My bag's packed and waiting in my car." With that, she excused herself to the bathroom, eager to change into the dress that had once left him breathless, feeling the anticipation of their new adventure together.

Chapter Text

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over Seabrook, the atmosphere pulsed with energy. The team dinner had transformed the town's best restaurant into a vibrant celebration of community and culture. Colorful decorations adorned every surface, and the savory aroma of grilled seafood wafted through the air, teasing the senses of all who came to partake.

Jake stood at the heart of the festivities, his pulse racing not just from the excitement of the event, but from the beautiful sight of Wynter standing nearby, her eyes sparkling with joy. The Red Bull Racing team had reserved a private area at the event, complete with a sleek tent adorned in their iconic blue and red colors, and the atmosphere buzzed with laughter and camaraderie among team members.

As Wynter approached, her radiant smile seemed to outshine the twinkling lights strung overhead. "Wow! This place is incredible," she exclaimed, her eyes wide with wonder. "I can't believe I'm actually here—celebrating the season's first race with you and the team!"

Jake's heart soared at her enthusiasm. "It gets even better," he replied, a grin spreading across his face. "This is just the beginning. Wait until the race next weekend! Maybe the FIA won't get involved and I get to beat Lewis on my own!"

The team gathered around a lavish table, an array of culinary delights laid out in front of them. The atmosphere was electric, a blend of bubbling excitement and the camaraderie that only a close-knit team could share. Laughter echoed as stories from the track were exchanged, each tale punctuated by animated gestures and playful jabs at one another.

"Alright, everyone!" shouted Christian Horner, the team principal, raising his glass in a toast. "To the rest of the season ahead! May we race with fierce determination and celebrate our triumphs together, on and off the track!"

The team cheered, clinking glasses filled with sparkling drinks, the sound resonating like music to Jake's ears. It was a moment laden with hope and promises of daring adventures. Wynter leaned closer to Jake, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm so proud of you. You deserve every bit of this recognition."

His heart swelled at her words. "I couldn't have done it without the team—and maybe a little motivation from you," he replied, a teasing smirk dancing on his lips.

As the night wore on, a live band began to play upbeat music, inviting people to dance. With confidence blossoming within him, Jake extended his hand toward Wynter. "Care for a dance?"

Wynter's laughter danced through the air as she placed her hand in his. "I'd love to!"

They moved to the center of the vibrant gathering, the lights flashing in rhythm with the dynamic beats. As they twirled together, the world around them faded, leaving just the two of them in their own joyful bubble. Onder starlit skies, with music flowing and laughter echoing, Jake felt a warmth spreading through him—this was more than just a celebration; it was a moment stitched into the fabric of his dreams.

"Alright, Wynter, we need to leave this place," Jake said softly, his breath warm against her ear, sending a shiver down her spine. "My good girl still needs to be punished."

Wynter felt a thrill of anticipation mix with her nervousness as she turned to him, her eyes gleaming with both fear and excitement. "Okay then, let's get out of here," she replied, taking his hand and leading him toward the door.

As they drove back to the hotel, the air was thick with tension. Wynter stared out of the window, her heart racing as thoughts of the impending punishment filled her mind. The silence in the car was palpable, allowing her emotions to swirl—fear, excitement, and an undeniable longing for what was to come.

Upon entering Jack's room, Wynter's heart raced at the sight that greeted her. The bed, large and imposing, commanded attention in the middle of the room, its plush fabric contrasting against the starkness of the surroundings. Each of the four posts was equipped with gleaming handcuffs, their polished metal reflecting the soft light in a way that made them seem almost enchanting. The air was tinged with a lingering hint of leather, drawing her gaze to a muzzle resting nearby, its dark surface meticulously crafted and exuding a sense of both mystery and intrigue.

Wynter's imagination ignited as she took in the scene, a mix of excitement and curiosity swirling inside her. The atmosphere felt heavy with unspoken possibilities, each element inviting her to explore the depths of her own desires. A thrill coursed through her, making her pulse quicken, as she wondered about the adventurous paths the night could take and the experiences waiting just beyond the threshold of her imagination. "Remember, we can stop at any time love. Just gotta say the word." Jake said while gently putting a hand on her shoulder before pulling the muzzle over her mouth.

Chapter Text

"Hey, Wynter," Jack mumbled sleepily, his voice barely rising above a whisper as he leaned closer to the wolf-girl nestled beside him. He stretched his limbs, feeling warmth and comfort from the night's rest. As Wynter stirred awake, her ears perked up attentively, Jack asked with a hint of playful curiosity, "Are you going to be a good wolf for the team now?"

Once she finished her stretch, Wynter exhaled deeply, soaking in the fresh morning air. "Honestly," she continued, her tone shifting to playful with a glint of mischief in her eye as she stated "if my nights can be as good as that last one, I might not be a good wolf just yet, but I'll pretend for the sake of your job."

Jake chuckled softly, as her golden eyes shimmered with both amusement and thirst. She reached for a bottle of water nearby, the light glinting off the smooth surface as she took a refreshing swig, readying herself for whatever adventures lay ahead.

Suddenly, Wynter began to cough frantically, her eyes glowing green, the same hue as the moonstone on her chest. "Wyn, are you okay?" Jake asked with concern. "I-I'm not sure what's happening! My moonstone shouldn't be reacting like this. I only recharged it 5 years ago, and it's meant to last a century!" Wynter panicked, resuming her coughing as Jake helped by rubbing her back and encouraging her to drink some water. "It's alright, sweetheart. If you think we need to recharge your stone, we can head to Zombietown, where it's currently located, and get it recharged before our flight."

"Yeah, that's probably a good idea…" Wynter started to say "I guess if it starts to malfunction again, I could talk to Willa about a replacement moonstone." She finished as Jake picked her up towards the shower. "Hey, now this, I can get behind. I like princess treatments!" Wynter stated as Jake turned on the water and locked the door.

Chapter Text

"Okay, listen up. I'm not sure how long this will take, but we need to be at the airport in 45 minutes," Jake said, glancing at the clock with a furrowed brow. He tried to keep his tone light as he added, "Max agreed to wait for us since we missed the team plane because of this." He wanted to express his frustration but didn't want to make Wynter feel overly guilty about her moonstone's malfunction.

Wynter sighed, her fingers playing with the delicate chain of the necklace that had caused the delay. "I know, I know…" she replied, her voice trailing off as she reluctantly detached the shimmering stone from around her neck, its glow dimming in the sudden tension.

"Can you quit trying to guilt-trip me? I'm close to being angry, and anger drains the stone faster." Wynter stated that as she equipped the necklace, she was now recharged and letting herself wolf out in the process. "That, is beautiful babe. Feeling more wolf-strong now?" Jake stated as Wynter turned around to show off her fangs and claws. "Yeah, I feel much better now. Let's head on over to the airport. The media that I've seen never saw Max as much of a patient man." Wynter stated as she got back into the sleek Honda, wrapped with coverage that would protect the vehicle from having a moonstone or alien tech stop the engine.

-at the airport-

A sleek, polished jet stood proudly on the tarmac, its aerodynamic form reflecting the sunlight in a dazzling display of color. The vibrant blue, fiery red, and sunny yellow paintwork came together in a striking design, embodying the spirit and energy of the team. Beside the jet, the familiar figure of the Dutchman loomed, his traditional attire draped with pride, a symbol of heritage amidst the modernity of the aircraft.

"Wynter, Jake!" Max called out, his voice ringing with excitement as he waved vigorously to his friends. His enthusiasm was palpable, his face lit up with a broad grin that matched the vibrant hues of the jet. "Hey, guys! Are you two ready for our adventure to Austrialia?" His eyes sparkled with eagerness, inviting them to join him on an exhilarating journey filled with promise and discovery. The jet awaited them, engines softly humming, a gateway to new experiences and unforgettable memories. "I just want y'all to know one thing. No stupidity like the paddock wide gossip that got you your first penalty point Jake. I have Kelly and Penlope coming with us today."A sleek, polished jet stood prominently on the tarmac, its streamlined, aerodynamic shape reflecting the sunlight in a brilliant array of colors. The eye-catching paintwork featured a stunning blend of deep ocean blue, vibrant fiery red, and cheerful sunny yellow, intricately combined in a bold design that encapsulated the energy and spirit of the entire team. Each curve of the aircraft shimmered as if it were alive, capturing the attention of everyone nearby.

Chapter Text

"Alright, kid, welcome to Albert Park," Hugh said with an air of excitement as Jake settled into the driver's seat of his Formula 1 car. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him while he waited for the pit crew to fit the tires. The Grand Prix was just 20 minutes away from its start, and time was of the essence as the strategy meeting was set to begin shortly.

"This is an incredible circuit," Hugh continued, his voice filled with anticipation. "The last time we raced here, Checo secured a victory, and since you're stepping in for him today, we have high hopes for a similar outcome. Unfortunately, qualifying was canceled because of heavy rain, which is still pouring down right now. The track is drenched, meaning you'll be starting on the wet compound."

Jake nodded as he listened intently, mentally preparing for the challenge ahead. "Alright," he said decisively. "I plan to stay on wet tires until lap 25. After that, I'll assess the conditions for the last 20 laps and switch to intermediates, wets, or dry tires, depending on how the weather develops."

Hugh gave a firm nod, appreciating Jake's understanding of the strategy. With the conditions being unpredictable, every decision made on the track would be crucial. Jake felt a surge of determination; he was ready to give it his all in the race ahead.

"Perfect. That'll work Jake. Reminder, you're car is speed-limited at 150 miles per hour for right now as you are starting the race behind the safety car due to the bad weather." Hugh proceeded to radio before the race started.

Chapter Text

"Okay, Jake," Hugh's voice crackled through the radio, brimming with urgency. "I understand that you weren't satisfied with how things unfolded in Seabrook, especially when the FIA abruptly ended the session after that crash and essentially saved you from Lewis Hamilton. However, there's an important announcement from race control that you need to hear. They've made some adjustments to Lewis's car, courtesy of the Ferrari team. As a result, he's going to be starting the grand prix from P20 instead of P2."

Jake's expression darkened as he processed the news, a mix of disbelief and frustration etched on his face. "That's outrageous. It feels like me and 44 are never going to get a fair shot at each other's skill on the track," he replied, his voice laced with a hint of disappointment.

"Trust me, I feel the same way," Hugh conceded, a resigned tone creeping into his voice. "I was hoping you two would finally get the chance to go wheel to wheel. But right now, the safety car is getting ready to come in this lap, and the green lights will be flashing shortly. Since you're leading the race, you're in control of the rolling start. Make sure to push hard during the next lap because you'll be heading into the pit lane for your scheduled stop right after that," he informed Jake, who was rapidly approaching the pivotal start/finish line, adrenaline coursing through his veins.

"Roger that. I'll unleash everything we've got, make those Red Bull wings sing," Jake replied confidently, just as conditions on the track spiraled into chaos. It was in that tense moment that Lando, fueled by frustration from the earlier race, forcefully slammed his car into Jake's, creating a brutal jolt that reverberated through Jake's senses.

"Whoa, someone flags that to the FIA! Lando just attempted to ruin both of our races! I think I've got rear wing damage; I might have to retire the car!" Jake shouted in anger, the adrenaline surging as shock and frustration intertwined. Hugh, still processing the chaotic events, began to speak urgently.

"Yeah, we all saw that, Jake. The FIA is already on alert. Can you at least make it back to the pit lane? We're about to experience a red flag because Lando caused that crash and then got rear-ended by Lewis Hamilton in the Ferrari. I repeat cars 44 and 4 have collided; we're implementing a red flag. Box this lap," Hugh concluded firmly as Jake maneuvered his car into the team garage, a mix of adrenaline and anger churning within him.

"I SWEAR ON MY SOUL, I'M NEVER GOING TO WIN A RACE FAIR AND SQUARE, AM I? WHERE IS THAT PAPAYA? I need to do something!" Jake exclaimed, a flood of emotion pouring out as his frustration turned towards Lando for instigating the incident that had abruptly ended all three drivers' races. "Hey, hey, remember what Willa taught you. Awooo… Awooo…" Wynter chimed in, her steady voice aiming to anchor Jake amidst the swirling turmoil. She guided him through a deep breathing exercise, seeking to instill a sense of calm.

"Right, right… Awooo," Jake repeated as he focused on Wynter's calming mantra, trying to center himself while Willa texted them both, asking to meet in Jake's driver's room. "Huh, Willa wants to see us in my driver's room. I didn't realize she had that much trust in me," Jake noted, surprise evident as he exchanged glances with Wynter, who appeared stunned.

"Are you serious, Jake? You trust me, and I trust you. She's not the same girl who stormed into Seabrook with fury back in 2020. As long as you keep me happy, she will be happy with you," Wynter reassured him, leading the way toward his driver's room. As they stepped inside, they were met with the sight of Willa, her eyes shimmering with tears as she sat on the edge of the couch. The weight of her emotions poured out, creating a poignant moment of vulnerability that filled the room where the normally strong wolf sat.

Chapter Text

"Willa, I don't think I've ever seen you cry," Wynter said softly, her voice filled with concern as she sat beside her friend on the plush couch. The dim light of the room accentuated the sorrow etched on Willa's face, and Wynter felt her heart ache for the normally resilient wolf. "What's going on?"

Willa looked down, unable to meet Wynter's gaze as she struggled to find the words. Her breath hitched, and her voice trembled as she finally managed to say, "It's because… it's because Aspen… they cheated on me!" Each word came out in broken sobs, her body shaking as she fought to contain the emotional storm threatening to overwhelm her.

Jake, who had been leaning against the wall with crossed arms, felt a surge of anger at the mention of Aspen. His protective instincts kicked in, and he stepped forward, a frown deepening on his brow. "What? That's a bold accusation. How do you know that, and why do you believe it?" His voice was firm, laced with newfound determination to defend his friends.

Willa's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as she clenched her fists in frustration. "Wyatt just sent me a picture of that betraying scumbag walking down the street, right past the fro-yo shop where we had our first date. And Eliza… she took a video of them kissing someone else!" The pain in her voice was palpable, each word laced with betrayal as she finally collapsed, burying her face into the sleeve of Jake's bright blue race suit, seeking any semblance of comfort she could find, and a good spot to rub her tears and ruined mascara on the Tag Heuer sponsorship logo by the left shoulder.

Feeling a wave of empathy wash over him, Jake took a deep breath, wanting to lift the suffocating weight of grief that hung in the air. "Well, if you need to escape Seabrook for a while, why don't you come with us?" he suggested. "The next three weekends are all planned for the United Kingdom, the Netherlands, and Monaco. You can join Wynter and me; maybe the breathtaking sights and change of pace will help you forget that traitor." He offered a warm, encouraging smile, his sincere eyes inviting her to take a step toward healing.

Willa hesitated, her brow furrowing as she considered the offer. "Are you sure I wouldn't be a burden?" she asked, a glimmer of hope mingling with her uncertainty.

"Willa, you're like family to Wynter," Jake reassured her, his tone earnest as he leaned closer. "You've built a bond strong enough that she calls you her sister. If she's okay with it, then I am too." As he spoke, he reached out his hand, gently pulling her closer to him in a protective embrace, his warmth radiating a sense of safety that she desperately needed.

"Yeah, exactly what he just said, but better," Wynter added with a playful smile, her eyes shining with affection as she met Jake's gaze for a brief moment before turning back to Willa. She reached out, wrapping her arms around both of them, trying to form a comforting cocoon amidst the swirling emotions.

Tears still lingered in Willa's eyes, but a small, tentative smile began to break through her sorrow. "Thank you both. I think I will come along," she said softly. "Jake, maybe I can find you a little more tolerable than I first thought I would." With a hint of laughter in her voice, she finally rose from her tear-soaked perch on the couch and stepped into the tight embrace, feeling the warmth of their friendship encircle her like a protective shield against the world outside.

Chapter Text

The mood in Jake’s driver’s room was heavy with emotion, charged like the air before a storm. The walls, adorned with racing memorabilia and photos of past victories, seemed to echo the tension surrounding him. After what felt like an eternity, they finally stepped outside into the chaos that awaited them. A throng of reporters surged forward, their cameras flashing like lightning, capturing every moment as they bombarded Jake with questions. The media frenzy was fueled by recent news about Willa’s broken relationship and the explosive incident where he had nearly thrown a punch at Lando after a chaotic three-car pileup.

Wynter, sharp and composed, quickly moved to center stage, her presence calming the tumultuous atmosphere. With a steady voice, she fielded questions for Jake and Willa, shielding them from the barrage of intrusive inquiries. Willa wore an expression of sorrow, and her shoulders slumped under the weight of the scrutiny.

“I don’t know how you handle all of this, Jake. I really dislike how the media is everywhere, getting all up in my face like this,” Willa confessed, her voice quivering slightly. She fidgeted nervously, glancing around as if searching for a way to escape the attention.

“Oh, trust me, it’s one of those random problems you eventually learn to deal with. Have you heard the stories about how I accumulated my two penalty points? One was for something scandalous that happened behind closed doors, and the other stemmed from my outburst at the media. I thought I was much calmer now,” Jake explained, attempting to offer reassurance while revealing a hint of frustration. “But honestly, the problem is you right now. You should probably eat something. Wynter, could you lead us to Red Bull’s catering office?”

Wynter nodded attentively, and Jake’s gaze flickered back to Willa, silently hoping she would find comfort in a change of scenery and food.

“Ha! I think I’ve heard about that first incident. It was quite the scandal—everyone was talking about it that weekend!” Willa recalled, laughter bubbling in her voice as she poked fun at the embarrassment that clearly etched itself on Jake’s face. The heat rushed to his cheeks, painting them a deep crimson hue, reminiscent of a ripe tomato.

As Willa teased Jake and Wynter playfully, the catering staff arrived, wheeling in a large platter that was beautifully arranged with steaming hot, perfectly seasoned steak and crispy golden French fries—the aroma wafting through the air—though it was slightly undercooked for the wolves' hunting tastes. They also brought replenishing water for everyone, the coolness of the glasses contrasting with the warmth of their surroundings.

“Wow, this looks incredible! Is this one of the perks of being a driver or part of the team?” Willa asked, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she took in the impressive spread.

Jake laughed, the sound lifting the weight of the moment. “Yes and no. Yes, because it is a perk; the team gets meals like this at every race weekend. But no, not all teams have their own chefs. Lower-tier teams like Williams, Kick Sauber, Alpine, or Haas often have to settle for fast food delivered to them, and trust me, that’s not nearly as enjoyable,” he explained, his tone cheerful now as he savored the sight of Willa’s growing happiness, especially as she focused on the delicious food before her.

“Jake, would it be a problem if I ordered something different to drink?” Willa asked, her voice taking on a hopeful tone as she contemplated something that might help her unwind.

“Not at all! Go ahead; I’ll have them deduct it from my paycheck. That’s where they’re getting the damage funding anyway," Jake replied, offering a warm smile, feeling a surge of empathy for Willa in her vulnerable state.

“Well, I’m sorry about that. It seems like we could both use a drink. What are you thinking?” Willa suggested, her demeanor shifting slightly as she focused on Jake's well-being, aware of the sacrifice he was willing to make.

“Well, if you’re covering, I’d love a Pina Colada, please,” Jake replied, gratitude illuminating his expression as he recognized Willa’s kind gesture.

“Sure, that sounds great! I’ll be right back,” Willa responded enthusiastically, her smile radiant as she walked away from the table, the prospect of a refreshing drink brightening her spirits.

“Aww, that’s adorable! She clearly likes you! Just remember, though—she should keep her hands off my boy,” Wynter teased playfully, her eyes twinkling with mischief as she caught the hint of affection in Willa’s tone.

“Whoa, Wynter, calm down. You need to know I love you, no matter what, and I heard that too. But Willa just had her heart shattered. If she needs someone to lean on—someone who can help her with everything—and I mean everything—then I’ll be there for her. I understand that pain all too well; I walked in on my last girlfriend with the guy who claimed to be my best friend,” Jake confessed, his voice tinged with sadness, the shadows of past heartbreak coming to light as he spoke, revealing the depth of his empathy and understanding for Willa’s situation.

Chapter Text

"So, about this, where should I sleep?" Willa asked, her tone tinged with uncertainty as she sank into the plush, leather backseat of the sleek Aston Martin, the unfamiliar scent of polished wood and luxury enveloping her. The vehicle had been rented specifically for Jake's use while he was in Australia, and as she settled in, the reality of their situation began to weigh on her mind.

"Uhm, Wynter and I were chatting while you were in the bathroom," Jake replied, glancing back at Willa through the spacious cabin. His fingers gripped the leather-wrapped steering wheel as he skillfully maneuvered the car through the vibrant streets, bustling with life. "You know you have every right to opt out of this arrangement, but our hotel room only has one bed. So, you'd have to make it work—either sandwiched between Wynter and me or potentially ending up on the floor if you chose a side," he explained, realizing the implications of his generous offer without fully considering the cramped conditions they would face.

Willa's brow furrowed, her mind racing as she processed his words. "Oh, well, I wasn't expecting that…" she replied, a hint of disappointment creeping into her voice as the thought of needing to find her own room sank in. She bit her lip, contemplating her options. "But I heard the couches fold into beds. I could take the couch if you want the bed. I might need to ask Max for help with that," Jake suggested, trying to maintain a sense of optimism despite the awkwardness of the situation.

Willa sensed the arrangement planning radiating from him. "Oh, that would be perfect! I was actually going to say I'd take the couch, but this works just as well!" Willa said, relief easing the tension in her voice as the car pulled into the driveway of their hotel. The establishment was impressive, with a contemporary design that featured a grand entrance framed by tall palm trees and colorful flowers, creating an inviting atmosphere.

As they stepped out of the car, the warm Australian sun bathed them in light, and the air was filled with a mix of aromas from nearby cafés. Max's sleek red Porsche was parked adjacent to them, a prized possession that reflected his undeniable flair for style.

Entering the hotel, their conversation about the couch and bed situation continued, with Wynter leading the way through the elegant lobby adorned with marble floors and contemporary art. "Yeah, he's only a first-year driver," Wynter explained, her voice comfortable yet apologetic as she gestured toward the elevator. "That's why the room isn't as spacious for sharing as some of the others."

Upon entering their hotel room, which was cozy yet somewhat cramped, Max and Jake immediately set to work unfolding the mattress from the couch. The sound of fabric rustling echoed as they maneuvered the bed into a usable position. Meanwhile, Willa instinctively flicked out her claws and fangs, her instincts firing at the sight of Max entering the room—an automatic reflex that revealed her protective nature.

Max turned around quickly, his eyes widening as he registered Willa's fierce transformation. "Uhm, Jake, why is this very cute wolf ready for combat?" he stammered, his voice laced with a mix of fear and surprise as he witnessed a side of Willa that was far from the sweet, timid presence he had encountered earlier.

Jake, ever calm, chuckled softly while reaching out to scratch behind Willa's ear—an instinctual gesture that worked wonders at soothing her and Wynter. "Oh, that's Willa," he explained, his tone reassuring. "She's Wynter's sister. She came for the race with her ex, but they cheated on her during the event. Now she's staying with me and Wynter until the holiday break after the next three races. She doesn't do well with new people," he added, hoping to clarify and ease some of Max's evident concerns.

As Willa began to relax under Jake's gentle touch, the fierce expression faded, replaced by an almost playful spark in her eyes. Wynter, seeing the tension dissipate, thanked Max for his help and ushered him out the door, allowing him to retreat back into the lively ambiance of the hotel. The moment hung in the air, a fragile balance of camaraderie and underlying emotions as they adjusted to their new reality in this racing whirlwind.

"Alright, wolfies," Jake said, his voice heavy with fatigue as he leaned against the door frame. He ran a hand through his tousled hair, trying to shake off the remnants of a long, chaotic day. "I really need to get some sleep. I have a flight coming up, and right after that, it's back to work for me as soon as we touch down in Silverstone. So, that means you two are now part of my schedule tonight." He glanced at the clock, its hands ticking steadily towards midnight. "It's late, so you should head to bed. I'll catch up with you in the morning."

Wynter responded with a bright, playful smile, her eyes twinkling with a hint of mischief. "No worries, Jake. I'll make sure Willa relaxes. What time are we thinking of getting up?" she asked, her tone light and teasing, clearly enjoying the moment. She couldn't help but share a conspiratorial look with Willa, who was standing nearby, fidgeting with her hair anxiously.

Jake took a moment to collect his thoughts, glancing out the window at the darkened skyline. "Well, I'd suggest we aim for around 07:00 here. That's about 21:00 in the UK, so when our plane lands, everything over there will be waking up to a brand new day," he explained, emphasizing the connection between their timing and the time zone difference.

Wynter's playful expression shifted slightly as Jake's warning penetrated the air. "If you two are planning to indulge in whatever I think Wynter just implied, do us all a favor and keep it down. The walls in this room are paper-thin," he cautioned, a teasing edge in his voice. The laughter that erupted from both girls was tinged with embarrassment; they shared a quick glance that spoke volumes, a mixture of surprise and amusement at being caught before the evening could even unfold.

"Okay, we'll be quiet, I promise!" Willa replied, her cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and nervousness. She turned toward the door, her heart racing with the thrill of the evening. As she reached for the handle, she cast one last flirtatious grin in Jake's direction.

Once Wynter entered the room, Willa shut the door softly, locking it behind her with a satisfying click. The sound echoed through the stillness of the hallway, marking the end of their conversation. Outside, the night air felt thick with anticipation, a hush falling over everything as if the world was waiting for their next move. The soft glow of a distant street lamp illuminated the room, casting gentle shadows as the girls prepared for their own adventures ahead.

Chapter Text

"Good morning, wolfies," Jake grumbled, his voice still thick with the remnants of sleep as he rubbed the last vestiges of drowsiness from his eyes. He stood in the kitchen, where the gentle rays of the morning sun filtered through the window, illuminating the space and casting warm golden light over the room. The soft glow highlighted the cluttered countertop, strewn with a chaotic assortment of dishes, cups, and utensils, remnants of the previous night's activities. Jake stood, arms folded tightly across his chest, embodying a mix of annoyance and concern as he cast an exasperated glance at Willa and Wynter, who were seated at the table.

Willa and Wynter looked particularly disheveled that morning. Willa's hair was a wild tangle of curls, sticking out in all directions, while Wynter's straight locks hung limply around her shoulders. Their faces were still tinged with sleep, framed by cheeky, playful smiles that suggested they had enjoyed a long and somewhat chaotic night. Despite the cozy atmosphere, Jake's irritation loomed like a storm cloud above them.

"I gave you two one simple request: keep it down," Jake continued, his voice gaining a sharper edge as exasperation crept into his tone. "I didn't get a wink of sleep last night thanks to your antics." He pushed his hair back with one hand, attempting to suppress the frustration that threatened to spill over.

Willa, sensing the tension, immediately tried to lighten the mood. She turned on her most irresistible 'please' face, her eyes sparkling with mischief as she leaned forward solicitously. "Oh come on! You seriously can't be mad at us right now," she pleaded, her lips curling into a playful grin that was hard to resist. Beside her, Wynter nodded vigorously, her expression a mirror of Willa's earnestness, demonstrating unwavering support for her friend.

"How is this my fault?" Wynter replied, her voice rising just slightly, a hint of indignation lacing her words. She leaned closer, her brow furrowing in genuine concern. "I found out last night that Aspen hasn't done anything for Willa in like, 5 months. She needed that release." The depth of Wynter's empathy was palpable, and the protective fire blazing in her eyes made it clear just how much she cared for her friend.

Willa seized the opportunity to jump back in, adding, "Exactly! And let's not forget these paper-thin walls. We heard you enjoying the 'noise show' just as much as we did, Jake. So really, it's a bit of everyone's fault." She crossed her arms defiantly, but the warmth of their friendship softened the defensiveness in her posture, making it clear that this was all in good spirits.

Jake sighed, clearly conflicted. Despite the frustration lingering in his voice, a reluctant smile began to form on his lips. "Yeah, you're right about that," he admitted, shifting to a more light-hearted tone. "You two shouldn't have media problems anymore—a perfect deflection there. But let's move on." He gestured to the table in an inviting manner. "Come on now, sit down and eat."

With a flourish, he stepped aside to reveal an impressive breakfast spread laid out on the table, the sight inviting and heartwarming. Three generous plates overflowed with fluffy, golden scrambled eggs, their surfaces gleaming with melted butter glistening like jewels. Stacks of pancakes were piled high beside them, each one fluffy and inviting, drenched in syrup that pooled around them. Crispy sausage links sizzled merrily in their grease, sending a mouthwatering aroma wafting through the air, mixing with the sweetness of the pancakes and the buttery scent of the eggs. To the side, three icy cans of Red Bull stood, glistening with beads of condensation, promising a refreshing jolt of energy to kickstart their day.

"Yum! Thanks for taking such good care of me," Willa exclaimed, her eyes wide with delight as she reached eagerly for a can. The vibrant colors of the label burst forth against the soft morning light, drawing her in like a beacon. "I know my unexpected arrival might have thrown things off a bit, but this looks amazing."

Wynter flashed a warm, reassuring smile and nodded her head in agreement. "It's never going to be a problem, don't worry about it," she said softly, her voice enveloping Willa like a warm embrace. "You heard Jake yesterday; we've known each other for so long that we're practically sisters. So, you're part of our little family now."

With that sense of belonging wrapping around her like a soft blanket, Willa eagerly dove into her meal, savoring each rich, comforting bite. The flavors burst on her palate, and the familiar warmth of friendship washed over her, easing the remnants of her earlier anxiety.

As she finished her hearty meal, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and declared, "Thanks for the food! I really needed that. Now, I'm going to go shower quickly; I feel all sticky and sweaty from last night."

She stood up, the legs of her chair scraping softly against the tiled floor, and with a deft motion, she tossed her empty paper plate and plastic fork into the garbage can, the satisfying thud echoing her sense of completion. As she chugged down the last of her Red Bull, a fizz of energy surged through her, awakening her senses and pushing away any lingering drowsiness, filling her with eager anticipation for the day ahead.

Wynter found herself caught in thought, momentarily staring at Willa, who exuded strength and resilience. Willa noticed her gaze and called her over, which Wynter obediently complied with, her movement reminiscent of a puppy eager to please its owner. Jake observed the interaction and mused aloud, laughing, "Ha, yeah, I wish I was as emotionally strong as her. She just got cheated on, and she's out here dominating my girl like nothing ever happened." He packed up and tidied the remnants of their breakfast, the warmth of their shared moments enveloping the room, creating a bubble of safety and camaraderie that drew them all together.

Chapter Text

Once everyone found their seats in the spacious interior of the sleek private jet, the atmosphere buzzed with anticipation. The pilot, a seasoned professional accustomed to flying high-profile racers, performed his pre-flight checks with precision. As the aircraft gained speed down the runway, the roar of the engines filled the cabin before it glided gracefully into the open sky, leaving behind the bustling world below.

Wynter, exhausted from the day's activities, quickly surrendered to sleep, her head gently resting against the window, the soft hum of the plane lulling her into a tranquil slumber. With the cabin now quieter, Willa seized the opportunity to speak with Jake, who was seated across from her, an unsettled look marring his usually carefree expression.

"Jake," Willa began, her voice steady and sincere as she leaned slightly forward, eager to bridge the distance between them. "I really appreciate how you've welcomed me into this small, tight-knit circle you have with Wynter. But I can tell something's bothering you. What's on your mind?"

Jake swallowed hard, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He let out a long breath, struggling to articulate the storm of feelings swirling within him. "Don't get me wrong, Willa," he replied, running his fingers through his hair in frustration. "You're an amazing person, truly strong in ways I can't even fathom. I mean, after I was cheated on, I barely managed to lift myself out of bed for weeks. And then there's you... you've picked yourself up and gone on a road trip to the UK. It's inspiring, but I can't help feeling a bit jealous," he admitted, his voice tinged with vulnerability.

Willa felt a pang of empathy for him and took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Jake, I completely understand where you're coming from. I really do," she responded, her tone compassionate. "But you have to remember that Wynter loves you, truly and deeply. I want you to know how grateful I am for you. That moment we shared back in Australia's paddock—when everything felt so overwhelming for me—you stepped in and offered your support without a second thought. It meant more to me than I can express. I really owe you one for that."

Jake looked up, meeting her gaze, and felt his heart warm at her words. With a soft smile, Willa leaned in closer, their faces inches apart, and pressed her lips against his in a gentle kiss that conveyed all the unspoken feelings between them.

Suddenly, the stillness of the moment was shattered by Max's voice from the back of the plane, dripping with playful sarcasm. "Yuck! You two really need to find a room. The back is wide open," he teased, his eyes still closed as he slumped into his seat, clearly hoping to catch some more sleep.

Willa turned back to Jake, a playful glint in her eyes as she let out a soft laugh. "So, what do you think? Do you want to take this adventure somewhere a bit more private?" she asked, her words laced with mischief as she playfully tugged at his arm, urging him to join her.

Jake's smile widened, the tension in his shoulders easing as a sense of relief washed over him after their heartfelt exchange. "Yeah, sure. Let's go," he replied enthusiastically, feeling lighter and more at ease. He leaned in for one last kiss, his heart racing with a mix of excitement and newfound confidence, before they slipped out of their seats together, heading toward the back of the plane. As they shut and locked the door behind them, the world outside faded away, leaving only the thrill of their connection and the promise of adventure ahead.

Chapter Text

As the group's plane descended and touched down on the tarmac in the UK, a wave of excitement swept through them. The lush green landscape of Silverstone came into view, and the thrilling atmosphere of the racing circuit was palpable even from the airport. After gathering their bags, they quickly made their way to the parking area, where an impressive line of vibrant McLarens awaited them, gleaming under the sun like polished jewels.

Attached to each car was a whimsical note that stood out against the metallic paint of the vehicles. One note, affixed to a striking orange McLaren, caught Jake's attention.

"Hey there, Jake and Max! Welcome to Silverstone! I know these cars don't usually come from rental brands, but the McLaren team felt particularly generous this year and made sure everyone got a McLaren to use during your time in the UK! Have safe travels, and I'll see you in the paddock soon! P.S. Be sure to thank Oscar for the gift; it was his idea!"

The cheerful handwriting belonged to Christian, and as Jake read it, a mixture of disbelief and irritation washed over him. He let out a frustrated sigh, brushing a hand through his tousled hair, his voice heavy with sarcasm. "Are you kidding me? McLaren ruined my race in Australia, and now I'm expected to pretend to like them?" He gestured exasperatedly toward the stunning purple McLaren assigned to him, its sleek lines and futuristic design captivating.

Meanwhile, Wynter and Willa, the duo of wolf-girls, stood nearby, awe etched on their faces as they admired Jake's car, their eyes sparkling with excitement. The vibrant paint shimmered under the sunlight, and the powerful chassis promised an exhilarating ride.

However, the moment of admiration was shattered as Willa's expression changed dramatically. She gasped, her breath hitching in her throat. "Uh, Jake, Wynter... the person I hate most in Seabrook just teleported right in front of me!" Panic coursed through her voice as tears began to well up in her eyes. In a swift movement, she dashed behind Max, seeking solace and protection as Aspen materialized before them, looking frantic and desperate.

"Willa, you don't understand! Wyatt explained everything I did! I want you back!" Aspen cried out, their voice filled with urgency. Their outstretched hands pleaded with her, eyes wide with regret, reflecting a tumult of emotions that mirrored the chaos surrounding them.

But Jake stepped forward, his protective instincts surging as he faced Aspen. His stance was firm, muscles tensed as he prepared to defend his friend. "Listen, crazy alien. There's no chance my friend will ever take you back," he said fiercely, each word a vow etched in loyalty. "You walked away from her and kissed someone else while she was gone. I won't let you hurt Willa again." His words hung in the air like a heavyweight, a clear declaration of his unwavering support for his friend as the tension between them crackled like electricity. "Very well, then. Mothership, please take me back to Seabrook," the alien uttered, their voice heavy with defeat. As they spoke, tears welled up in their luminous eyes, catching the ambient light of the spacecraft and creating a kaleidoscope of colors that danced across their features.

Willa, overwhelmed by a torrent of emotions, suddenly lunged forward, wrapping her arms tightly around Jake. She buried her face in the warm fabric of his shirt, her sobs resonating with the depth of her heartbreak. "Thank you so much, Jake. I really needed to hear that—I'm not sure I ever would have found the courage to say it myself," she said, her voice shaky but filled with sincerity. Each word was punctuated by the tremors of her body as she released all her pent-up emotions.

Jake, feeling the weight of her pain, instinctively tightened his embrace, offering her his support like a shield against the world. He gently rubbed her back in soothing circles, his fingers brushing against her shoulder blades as he spoke with determination. "Hey, hey, it's okay. I'm right here with you now. They're gone, and I promise you, I will do everything in my power to ensure that no one ever hurts you or Wynter again," he declared, his voice steady and resolute, fostering a sense of safety in the midst of Willa's turmoil. The warmth of his words enveloped her, a promise that ignited a flicker of hope amidst her sorrow.

Chapter Text

"Het is alsof het nooit gebeurd is, schatje, wat is daar verdomme aan de hand?" Max said, his voice a mix of frustration and disbelief as he quoted Olivia Rodrigo in Dutch. His eyes flickered over the scene, taking in the palpable tension that hung in the air like a dense fog. Willa and Wynter exchanged bewildered glances, their expressions mirroring the confusion that washed over them, unsure of what Max had just uttered in a language they didn't understand.

"Oh, right! I forgot I'm the only one who speaks Dutch," Max said with a sheepish laugh, a hint of embarrassment creeping into his tone. He quickly translated, "What I meant to say was, 'It's like it never happened, baby, what the fuck is up with that?' You know, from that catchy Olivia Rodrigo song? I've heard countless tales about how those two were seemingly perfect together." His attempt to lighten the mood resonated, and the group gradually nodded in understanding, murmuring things like, "That makes sense" and "Oh," as they processed the reference he had made.

"Yeah, while that's true, I'd rather we didn't dwell on it," Willa interjected, her voice steady yet edged with vulnerability. A flicker of joy sparked in her as she recalled Max's playful Dutch moment, but the emotional weight of the conversation still loomed large. "Can we just head to the hotel now? I'm absolutely starving," she suggested, her stomach audibly growling as if mirroring her desire to escape the painful memories embedded in their current location—the exact spot where she had faced the reality of her breakup with Aspen.

"Food sounds like a fantastic idea. Should we go to that cozy diner we loved last year?" Max proposed enthusiastically, turning to Jake with hopeful eyes, eager for a diversion.

"Oh yes, that place was incredible," Jake chimed in, a wide smile spreading across his face. "Let's go! You lead the way; I completely forgot the route," he admitted, stepping aside to open the car doors for Wynter and Willa, offering them a courteous gesture as the sun began to set, casting a warm golden glow around them.

"Perfect! I'll catch up with you all at the diner," Max called out, returning their smiles with a friendly wave as he climbed into his car. The prospect of delicious food and lighthearted conversation filled the air with a sense of anticipation. It was a welcome opportunity to leave behind the heaviness of the past and embrace the comfort of friendship and familiar flavors waiting to be savored.

Chapter Text

“I know I said we should go to the same place as last year,” Jake said on the phone to Max. He felt excited but a bit nervous. “But this new restaurant has a big 'Just Opened' sign outside. I think our wolf friends would like a menu with more meat options.”

Max sat in his car at a red light, thinking about Jake's idea. People walked by on the busy street, and colorful shops lined the sidewalks. “Yeah, I’m a little disappointed because I liked the other place. It had a cozy vibe and great food,” he replied. “But I understand wanting to try something new. Can you send me your location? I want to make sure I can find you.”

“No problem,” Jake said, feeling relieved. “I’ve turned on my location now. Willa just went inside to get us a table by the window. We can order drinks as soon as you get here. What do you want to drink?”

Max thought for a moment about a refreshing cold drink after his drive. “I’ll just have a Coke, please. You can’t go wrong with a classic,” he said, smiling. The light turned green, and he felt a rush of adrenaline. “Okay, I have to go now. I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

“Bye! Drive carefully. I’ll be waiting for you,” Jake said before hanging up. He walked into the restaurant and was hit by the delicious aroma of grilled meat and spices. The place was warm and inviting, with wooden tables and soft lighting. He saw Willa and Wynter seated at a large table near the back. They laughed as they shared stories and looked forward to their meal. Jake felt excited to join them.

“So, is Max coming?” Willa asked, her eyes shining with happiness as her drink arrived. “Yeah, he should be here in about ten minutes. Have you chosen what you want?” Jake asked, happy to see Willa smiling again.

“I think I’ll go for the all-you-can-eat option. Going through a breakup and those activities on the plane really drain a girl’s energy,” Willa said, taking a sip.

“Wait, what do you mean by ‘activities’?” Wynter asked, confused at first before realizing. “Oh, that explains it! I thought I heard Willa’s moans from the other side of the plane. Such beautiful sounds crept into my dreams,” Wynter teased, causing Willa and Jake to blush and laugh.

“Yeah, um…that’s true. She kind of sings in those situations,” Jake said, feeling shy as Max arrived and slid next to Willa.

“Oh, hey Max. Sorry about yesterday in Australia. I thought you seemed hostile. I’ve only seen you a couple of times before, so I apologize,” Willa said, her cheeks flushing.

“Oh, it’s not a problem, Willa. You were just looking out for the people you care about, and I respect that. It’s kind of cute,” Max replied, feeling his own cheeks grow warm as he gently scratched Willa behind the ear.

“Ooo, Max and Willa sitting in a tree, K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” Wynter whispered, clearly enjoying the moment and playing matchmaker. She smiled playfully at her friends, setting the stage for an evening filled with laughter, good food, and possibly some romance as they settled in for a night together.

Chapter Text

"It's a pretty well-known idea that if you feed a wolf and show it some appreciation, it'll treat you right," Jake said, his voice slicing through the animated commentary of FIFA announcers, whose voices filled the air with excitement about the match highlights during halftime. He leaned back in his chair, the bright glow from the television casting a cool blue hue across his face. His gaze shifted to Max, who sat nearby, his brow furrowed in deep thought as he contemplated the intriguing night ahead. "So, what I'm saying is, if you take the time to really care for a wolf—the one with the second-highest energy in the entire pack—you're bound to have an unforgettable night. Just, please, let's avoid any scenario where she gets pregnant."

At that moment, Willa's joyful voice rang out from one of the invitingly decorated bedrooms, her tone filled with excitement and playfullness that resonated throughout the space. "Speak of the wolf," Jake joked, a playful smile spreading across his face as he nudged Max encouragingly toward the door. As Max stepped inside, greeted by the image that Willa provided him, all that was heard was the soft click of the door shutting behind him echoed like a heartbeat, sealing off their shared moment and enveloping him in privacy. Jake chuckled to himself, a warm sense of amusement filling him as he shifted his focus, ready to transition from FIFA to the adrenaline-pumping world of Call of Duty. The thought of engaging in intense virtual warfare sent a thrill coursing through him as he navigated the menu, eyes bright with anticipation for a jolt of excitement before bedtime.

Engrossed in the fast-paced action, the sounds of gunfire and explosions created a gripping atmosphere, immersing him completely in the chaos of the digital battlefield. Just then, Wynter strolled in, her presence infusing the room with an inviting warmth. She leaned casually against the doorframe, her arms crossed, a playful smile illuminating her features as she regarded him with sparkling curiosity. "What are you up to?" she asked, her voice light and teasing as she leaned in closer to catch a glimpse of the chaotic images flashing across the screen. Just in time, Jake executed a flawless final elimination with his trusty XM4, the sudden burst of victory igniting a glow of triumph on his face.

"Oh, not much," he replied, a sense of satisfaction warming his tone. "Just putting the finishing touches on a Call of Duty match. Max is in the bedroom with Willa, and I just scored a win. What do you think? Ready to call it a night?" The easy flow of their conversation wrapped around them, creating a cozy atmosphere where they could seamlessly contemplate their next move together, as if sharing an unspoken understanding.

"I think I would like that," Wynter said, a radiant smile spreading across her face as she took delight in Jake's cheerful demeanor. With a playful glint in her eye, she leaned in closer and whispered, "I'll see you in the room." Her words floated from her lips like a delightful secret, light and teasing. Jake, sensing the playful energy, turned off the Xbox with a satisfying click, the sudden silence feeling almost palpable. As he closed the bedroom door behind him, the main space settled into a comforting stillness, the echoes of laughter and excitement gradually fading into the background, leaving only the promise of what lay ahead.

Chapter Text

"God, how early is it?" Max groaned, the words escaping his lips in a raspy, sleep-laden murmur. He struggled to peel open his heavy eyelids, which felt glued shut after a night of deep, uninterrupted sleep. The thumping bass of Jake's playlist erupted from the speakers, with "FE!N" pulsing through the cluttered apartment like a relentless alarm clock, leaving no room for lingering drowsiness. Sunlight streamed in through half-drawn curtains, illuminating the disarray left in the wake of last night's escapades—crumpled clothes lay scattered across the floor like fallen soldiers in a chaotic battlefield, colorful snack wrappers littered every surface like confetti from a raucous celebration, and a row of empty energy drink cans lined the countertop, each one a reminder of their caffeine-fueled festivities.

"Nearly too late! Come on, Max—hurry up and eat! We need to be at the circuit for race day in just two hours," Jake called out, his voice a captivating blend of urgency and excitement. He appeared in the kitchen, excitement radiating from him as he brandished a tall stack of pancakes, each one crafted with vibrant care, colored red, white, and blue to showcase the national flag of the Netherlands. The layers glistened under an ample drizzle of syrup, creating a mouthwatering visual that beckoned Max closer.

"Fair enough. Thanks for breakfast, J," Max replied, his tone thick with sleep yet tinged with appreciation. His stomach grumbled loudly, a reminder of its growling protest as he shuffled toward the table. The intoxicating aroma of freshly cooked pancakes mingled with the robust scent of brewing coffee, creating an inviting atmosphere that gently nudged him further into the day. As he dug into the stack, savoring each fluffy bite that melted in his mouth, Jake eagerly shifted the playlist to "Smooth Operator" by Sade. The sultry melody filled the air, wrapping around them like a warm blanket as they awaited the arrival of their friend, Carlos Sainz—the renowned Williams driver who had sought refuge at Jake's place after a long and grueling day.

As predicted, Carlos made his dramatic entrance, striding confidently into the apartment. He wore the striking blue and white of his Williams racing suit, which accentuated every contour of his athletic build, adding to his already magnetic aura. His voice, smooth as silk, intertwined with Sade's melody, creating an atmosphere of effortless cool. With a casual, practiced swagger, he swung open the fridge door, revealing shelves filled with various drinks and snacks. He grabbed a can of Red Bull, its shimmering silver surface gleaming in the sunlight, and popped it open with a satisfying crack. The sound seemed to underscore his excitement as he filled his plate with pancakes, stacking them high into a veritable mountain of mouthwatering goodness.

"Oh, shit, Carlos! What time did you get here?" Max exclaimed, his eyes widening in a mix of shock and delight at the sight of the illustrious driver now casually inhabiting Jake's kitchen space.

"Oh, I rolled in around two, I think," Carlos replied, a cheeky smirk dancing at the corners of his mouth. "But I didn't manage to catch any Z's because someone was serenading me all night!" He shot a playful glance toward Max, who felt heat rush to his cheeks, the embarrassment written all over his face as laughter bubbled up around them.

"Yeah, funny story. That wasn't me. It was Willa... you'll meet her as soon as she decides to wake up. Her nighttime sounds match the exact melody of the song you just heard," Max explained, his face even redder with each word, as Carlos and Jake erupted into hearty laughter, the mirth echoing warmly around the room.

Just as the morning banter began to settle into a comfortable rhythm, the door swung open with gusto, and Willa burst into the room like an energetic whirlwind, her presence immediately filling the space with enthusiasm.

"OH MY WOLF! It's the smoothest operator!" she squealed, her voice bubbling over with excitement as she transformed into full fangirl mode, her eyes practically sparkling with admiration as they settled on Carlos.

"Ha! Glad to see I have a fan," Carlos chuckled, genuine amusement lighting his features. He picked up a nearby Williams cap, grinning as he began to sign it for Willa, who was practically bouncing on her toes, her joy palpable and infectious. The room overflowed with the warmth of friendship, hearty laughter, and the unrestrained joy that comes from being together, energized and ready to take on the day ahead.

It was in that very moment, as the laughter rang out in cheerful harmony, that Wynter stirred from her sleep. Still in her disheveled outfit from the previous night—the Texas A&M athletic department t-shirt that stuck to her perfectly—she blinked away the remnants of sleep. With a flick of her claws and a flash of her fangs at the sight of Carlos, she momentarily transformed into a creature of surprise, but Jake, ever perceptive, quickly approached her. He gently scratched behind her ear, calming her nerves, and handed her a plate piled high with pancakes, the steam rising from them carrying the delicious promise of a fulfilling breakfast and a brighter morning ahead.

Chapter Text

"Alright, Jake. Silverstone. The Papaya and Williams teams have their home bases here. Go show off and make an impression. It's a 46-lap Grand Prix. The strategy has been decided: you'll start on the soft tires, pit on lap 22, and switch to mediums," Hugh said decisively as Jake settled into the car, preparing for his pit lane start after his DNF in Australia.

"Roger that. Don't expect me to finish the race, though. If I can get revenge on the Papaya team and ruin their race, even if it means my own DNF, I will," Jake replied, his tone laced with animosity.

The Grand Prix began, and both Willa and Wynter were on the edge of their seats as their partners started the race. "I hope Max does well. No offense to Jake, but I'll cheer more for my man than yours," Willa said to Wynter.

"I completely understand," Wynter replied, her expression tense as she saw Jake nearly get pushed off track by Oscar Piastri.

"So, supposedly, you're the werewolf who can't keep her nose out of other people's business and thinks she's good enough to date my son," a voice remarked. Both wolf-girls turned to see none other than Jos Verstappen, a man who, in the internet's opinion, should have never been a father—one of the most unsuccessful Formula One drivers and Max's father.

"I'm sorry, who are you and why should my sister and I care?" Wynter replied aggressively, while Willa braced herself, extending her fangs and claws in self-defense.

"Now, now, let's not do anything we might all regret," Jos said, reaching for his right hip and flicking his jacket back as if he was reaching for a weapon.

"Gun Gun! He has a Gun!" A fan in the VCARB paddock shouted.

"RED FLAG, RED FLAG!" Christian panic-shouted to Jake and Max. "There are firearms on the premises, and we don't know how many or where they are, so we have a RED FLAG!"

"Christian is right. Sorry, boys. Get to the garage so we can ensure your safety," Hugh stated, confirming everyone's worst fears.

"I hope our girls are alright…" Max said, worried about the worst as he and Jake rushed to where they last left the wolf duo.

"Yeah, they've never faced threats like this back in the forest they called home," Jake replied as they made their way toward to the Paddock for Red Bull.

"Hey, do you want to bet? How much do you think this is your dad?" Jake asked, knowing the kind of person Jos was.

"I hope he's not THAT bad, but I'll say ten dollars," Max said, just as his dad pointed the 1911 that he was previously threatening the girls with toward the entrance. This distraction allowed Wynter and Willa to injure and disarm him.

"Really? Dad? I get a new girlfriend, who's not a cheater or manipulator, and that's how you choose to meet her?" Max yelled angrily into his father's ear as he was cuffed and escorted away by the police.

"I preferred Kelly over this one because at least Kelly couldn't turn into a wolf and harm you!" Jos shouted as he was shoved into the police van.

"Great. So my dad is my dad and also a racist. I don't know why I ever thought of him as a good man," Max said, ruffling his hair and feeling on the brink of tears.

Chapter Text

The recent incident involving Jos necessitated an immediate and critical meeting of the Grand Prix Drivers' Association. This gathering was essential for addressing the elevated concerns regarding safety and protocol among the drivers.

George Russell initiated the discussion: "We must confront the significant issue at hand. Jos entered the venue and made threats against the girlfriends of both Max Verstappen and Jake Wells. He owned an item that was not authorized for entry. In light of these events, I believe we must cancel the race—there should be no podium ceremony, no points awarded, and no official proceedings. It is in the best interest of safety for everyone present to leave the venue." To facilitate further communication, he invited other drivers to come to share their thoughts at the podium.

Max Verstappen contributed to the conversation thoughtfully, stating, "While this is not an easy decision, I concur with George's assessment. We should reach out to Silverstone to explore the possibility of providing refunds or offering tickets to alternate Grand Prix events later this season. We should also consider the fans who may still be in the area, many of whom traveled considerable distances to support us."

Lewis Hamilton, with his characteristic authoritative demeanor, called for a vote: "Let us formally decide on adjourning this meeting of the GPDA. If there is consensus for canceling the remainder of the Silverstone event, please respond with 'Aye.'" A unanimous response of 'Aye' was recorded from the drivers representing all ten teams, demonstrating their collective commitment to prioritizing the safety and well-being of the fans.

"Very well, this decision has been made. George, you will take the lead in the next steps. Please prepare an After-Action Report, and I will see everyone in the Netherlands for Circuit Zandvoort," Jake remarked as he prepared to exit the facility. He had changed out of his race suit into more casual attire, which included a purple shirt and black sweatpants, alongside a fur coat and team hat.

"Understood. I will ensure we proceed appropriately," George replied. "I will contact the FIA to inform them of our decision; they will manage the refunds and the distribution of new tickets." As he diligently attended to the paperwork, everyone else filed away into security escorts back to personal travel vehicles to leave the circuit and the paddock.

Chapter Text

Not all of the fans were happy when the official announcement came through on the announcement system, but the mad ones, were also understanding as all the fans left the premises.

Willa and Wynter were sitting outside of the paddock as they were being questioned by police. They had already been checked in on by all of the other drivers and staff, applauding their bravery and sympathetic for their emotional damage. They had been getting questioned for about 30 minutes by police, and Willa had been handcuffed.

"Max, mate, change out of your race suit. We're not going back out. I'll go check on the girls and text you where we are and that they are ok once I'm with them." Jake stated. "Ok, Ok, I will. I'm just a nervous wreck. Willa told me that she doesn't do well with media, and I don't know who's been questioning and what they've been asking. I'm just nervous for her." Max stated, with a hint of worry in his voice. "I get that. Just, unwind. Cold showers help. There's a team-themed outfit and a team cap in your locker for you. See you soon mate." Jake said, patting Max on the shoulder, and walking away.

When Jake approached Wynter and Willa, he saw a sight that made his blood boil slightly as he was met by both Wynter and Willa handcuffed together as a paramedic tried to convince the officer to unlock them as the cuffs were silver and charring their skin. "HEY! I don't know how you're trained here compared to the US or Seabrook, but you're BURNING them! UNCUFF THEM, AND LET THEM GET MEDICAL ATTENTION!" Jake shouted with such fury and anger that he was able to start wolfing out without the energy of the moonstone as he tried to unlock the wolf duo's cuffs, which he was successful in as they instantly ran to the ambulances, wrists burned up like a well-done steak.

It was at that moment, when Jake was yelling at the officer, with a fury that Max never seen before as he came towards the situation and instantly ran to the wolf duo sitting in the ambulance, ice packs on both of their wrists. "Are you okay? What happened?" Max asked in a panic with all of his anxiety starting to appear. Then, finally, in an environment with a person they can trust, Willa started crying for the third time this week, tying the number of times she ever cried in her life. "I don't know what I did wrong! I was complying with the police interrogation, and out of nowhere, I think one of the officers might be corrupt or a wolf hunter because they showed up and they instantly cuffed me, knowing that it was silver and that me and Wynter were wolves… Wynter tried defending me and she was cuffed two minutes later." Willa tried to bravely state out, with tears falling out of her eyes, and sobs destroying her ability to speak faster than two words a minute. Max quickly fell into Willa, allowing her to cry into his team-colored coat and relax as he offered a worried smile to Wynter, rubbing her back while holding a crying Willa.

The chaos that the Jos incident unveiled caused almost all of the local police to appear alongside an Army special forces unit to help control the scene. When Jake noticed the head sergeant of the police unit, he quickly changed the focus of his anger to the officer in charge of the one he was yelling at. Jake quickly informed the sergeant, more politely than he was with the other officer of what the accused was doing. "... Yeah, so… I do believe that this man, either needs to be fired right in front of my eyes right now, so the lawsuit only includes him, or that all of this police department will get sued." Jake stated to the sergeant which quickly made the sergeant pull off the rank badges and unit tag from his uniform, indicating that the officer was fired as Wynter and Willa were discharged from medical oversight as the burns had healed up nearly instantly due to their moonstone powers. When Wynter was discharged, she quickly ran to Jake's arms, jumped into his embrace, and started crying into his shoulder.

Red Bull's team lawyers instantly appeared at the chaos, presenting the ex-officer with the proper lawsuit paperwork. "Thank you, team. I'm going to leave for the Netherlands now with the other three." Jake stated pointing at Max, Willa, and Wynter. "Don't stop until he's paying off the mental and physical damage for life, and is imprisoned for life." He said, gently instructing the team's lawyers, who they nodded in understanding about.

Chapter Text

“Gah, what a crappy day,” Jake exclaimed, his frustration evident as he slumped into one of the plush, deep blue leather seats of Max’s private jet. The cabin was spacious and sleek, with soft ambient lighting and the gentle hum of the engines creating a cocoon of comfort around them as they awaited take-off.

“I know, mate, it’s so bloody ridiculous,” Max replied, irritation creeping into his voice as he ran a hand through his tousled hair. He leaned back against the seat, his eyes fixed on the ceiling as he mentally replayed the events of the day. “First, my dad—well, you know how he can be.” His voice trailed off, the weight of his words hanging heavily in the air, prompting others to share their own frustrations.

Jake nodded in understanding, his brow furrowing as he recalled the chaos. “Then we had to cancel the rest of race day because of his idiotic behavior. Honestly, that might have been the only logical thing to happen today,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief, a mix of anger and resignation coloring his tone.

Willa joined the conversation, her own exasperation bubbling to the surface. “And Wynter and I—just when we thought we were finally safe from all that hunter nonsense—got wrongfully detained by an officer wielding silver cuffs!” She threw her hands up in frustration, her expressive gestures mirroring her irritation. Suddenly, her face shifted to one of discomfort. “Ow, ow, ow! Do we have any ice packs?” she exclaimed, her eyes wide as she suddenly remembered the stinging pain in her wrists from where the cuffs had pressed against her skin.

Max’s protective instincts kicked in as he glanced over at Willa, concern etched on his face. “We should have some… they ought to be in the mini-fridge, on the freezer shelf. Want me to grab them for you?” he offered, his tone gentle but insistent.

“No, you don’t have to; thanks anyway,” Willa replied, her determination to be self-sufficient shining through despite the discomfort she was clearly in. But as another wave of pain shot through her hands, she quickly added, “Ow, ow, ow. Okay, maybe you can grab them for me,” conceding with a sheepish smile, embarrassed by her earlier bravado.

In the midst of their animated exchange, Wynter had surrendered to a deep sleep, her head resting against the plush seat, breathing softly. Jake took out his phone, drawn to the peaceful image before him. “Aww, look at Wyn. She’s so cute when she’s asleep,” he remarked, a fond smile spreading across his face as he snapped a candid picture of her.

Max turned back to Willa, carefully retrieving the ice packs from the mini-fridge and gently applying them to her hands. He expertly taped them down, ensuring she would feel some relief, and then leaned down to place a soft kiss on her cheek. “There you go, baby. Stay safe for me and don’t do too much, okay? Just rest during the flight,” he said, his voice enveloped in warmth and genuine care.

After ensuring Willa was settled, Max turned his attention back to Wynter, playfulness dancing in his eyes. “Ha, yeah, sleeping wolves are adorable. Especially mine,” he chuckled, snapping a quick picture of Willa, who had dozed off in the wake of her makeshift treatment.

Rising from his seat, Max strode to the mini-fridge, retrieving two icy cold bottles of Pepsi. After popping the caps off, the refreshing hiss filled the air as he handed one to Jake. A playful glint sparked in his eyes as he said, “So… if I remember correctly, I was beating you in FIFA before Willa distracted me. Want to have a rematch?” Handing Jake a controller adorned with their team’s logo, he deftly turned on the large flat-screen TV mounted on the wall of the jet, alongside the console.

“Yeah, sure! Let’s set up a matchup between our two national teams: the US vs. the Netherlands. We can play on a Dutch field since you won last time we ended the game with a gentleman’s agreement,” Jake replied, his competitive spirit reigniting as he maneuvered the controller, preparing for some friendly rivalry.

As the jet roared to life, lifting off into the brilliant blue sky, the atmosphere within the cabin shifted to one of camaraderie and excitement. Max and Jake immersed themselves in a lively competition of video games, laughter and playful banter filling the space around them while Willa and Wynter enjoyed the tranquility of their slumber, creating a perfect snapshot of friendship amidst the chaos of their day, suspended in time above the world below.

Chapter Text

As the plane rolled to a halt on the tarmac in the Netherlands, the bright afternoon sun illuminated a tense scene unfolding just outside the aircraft. A convoy of police vehicles, sleek and imposing, was tightly clustered around a glossy black Honda awaiting their arrival. The rhythmic flashing of blue and red lights cut through the otherwise serene sky, creating a sense of urgency that made Wynter’s heart race. She pressed her forehead against the cool glass of the window, unease tightening in her chest as her mind recalled a previous, unsettling encounter with law enforcement. “Why is there so much police presence?” she questioned, her voice quavering slightly, betraying her worry.

Meanwhile, one of the officers, tall and broad-shouldered in a crisp dark uniform, approached Max, speaking to him in a low, serious tone. His face was set, and Wynter could see the intensity in his eyes as he relayed instructions. Jake turned to Wynter, trying to dispel the discomfort looming in the air. “It’s probably just protocol to make sure we get to the circuit and the team hotels safely. There’s been a significant increase in security after what happened in the UK,” he reassured her, his voice calm but laced with an undercurrent of concern, as if he too felt the weight of the situation.

Max strode confidently towards the Honda, the sun catching the polished surface of the vehicle as he opened the door with a practiced motion. Willa, her racing fan gear clinging snugly to her athletic frame, jumped in with a determined nod of thanks directed toward him. The scent of fresh leather mixed with a hint of motor oil enveloped Wynter as she scrambled into the back seat behind her. Though the familiar smells were somewhat comforting, the anxiety gnawed at her; she still sensed the impending unknown lingering in the air.

Jake approached the Honda, and uncertainty flickered across his face as he stole a glance at the surrounding fleet of police cars, their windows tinted dark and their presence unyielding. “Police escort?” he asked, his tone edged with skepticism as he reached for the door handle. Max nodded firmly, his expression serious as he recognized the gravity of their circumstances. “Yeah, that seems to be the case,” Jake replied, his voice tinged with a mix of skepticism and acceptance, then climbed into the front seat, shutting the door with a soft thud that echoed in the confined space.

Just then, the squad cars sprang into action; their sirens erupted with an urgent wail, cutting through the air like a knife. The sound bounced off the concrete and reverberated in Wynter's ears, amplifying the adrenaline coursing through her veins. The lights continued to swirl in a chaotic dance, casting flickering shadows across the interior of the Honda. As the police escort led the way, the convoy began to move, leaving behind the safety of the airport and venturing into the uncertain world that lay ahead, the tension thickening among them with every turn of the wheels.

Chapter Text

"Alright, Jake. I understand that this weekend feels different, especially in light of the recent attack in the UK, but we need to address the scheduling issues that have arisen from the incidents at Silverstone. I want to remind you that you're behind Max in the championship standings because he finished in 2nd place while you unfortunately did not finish in Australia," Hugh explained to Jake, who was visibly focused while Carter prepared to climb into his car.

“Understood. I’m all set to race. Could you tell me where cars 4, 44, and 1 are starting?” Jake asked, his eyes scanning the pit lane as he inquired about the starting positions of his toughest competitors.

“Horrible news for you: Lando Norris is starting from grid slot 19 after crashing out in Q1. Meanwhile, Hamilton and Verstappen have locked out the front row, with the Ferrari in 2nd and Max taking pole position,” Hugh informed him, his tone serious as he delivered the news.

“So, realistically, Jake has no chance of winning this race, right?” Lando asked, sharing a glance with his engineer, aware that he was trailing Jake in the championship by a frustrating 15 points.

“Pretty much, but you need to stay vigilant. Given what happened in Australia, there’s no way he’ll drive fair. You can expect some aggressive tactics from him,” Lando's engineer cautioned, highlighting the tense situation on the track.

“Yeah, that seems reasonable. I should definitely prepare for something reckless; he’s directly behind me,” Lando said resolutely, before switching off his radio to concentrate completely on the start of the race.

“It’s lights out, and away we go at the Netherlands Grand Prix!” the track announcer roared with excitement as the race began. Almost immediately, Jake made an aggressive move, bumping Lando’s car and sending it careening off track, where it flipped and crashed into the barrier. Seizing the moment of chaos, Jake skillfully maneuvered his car into 10th place. Almost simultaneously, a red flag was waved, signaling for the safety car to come out, and an ambulance was dispatched to assist Lando.

“And just like that, we’re hit with controversy before we even get out of turn one! Lando, Oscar, and Alexander are all out of the race! This marks a truly chaotic start for the day!” the race announcer exclaimed, his voice filled with a mix of shock and excitement, as the camera captured the dismayed expressions in the McLaren garage. Their least-favorite driver had just knocked out both their cars, creating a high-stakes situation as Jake now had an opportunity to gain considerable ground, seemingly without penalty since he had been nudged by the now-out-of-race Williams.

In the Red Bull garage, Jake was seen casually grabbing a Red Bull from the mini-fridge in his area, trying to maintain a calm demeanor when Oscar stormed up to him, his expression furious. “Jake! What the hell did you just do?!?” Oscar shouted, shoving Jake hard into a supply cabinet, which prompted team members from both Red Bull and McLaren to move in to restrain the two drivers before the situation escalated further.

“Oscar, listen, that was never my intention. Albon hit me; his garage is just four down to the left. Why don’t you go talk to him instead?” Jake pleaded, attempting to distance himself from Oscar, who was still fuming with anger as the helicopter took off, transporting Lando to the hospital for evaluation.

“Yeah, likely story! I know exactly what Lando did in Australia, but do you really think that was the right move?” Oscar shouted, pushing back against the team staff that tried to pull him away. Jake, without saying a word, pointed at a nearby TV that was replaying the incident, indicating how the FIA should handle penalties. The commentators confirmed that Jake had indeed been bumped during the incident, exonerating him of any blame and declaring him innocent.

As the drivers assembled on the grid for the restart, an unusual stillness enveloped the atmosphere, a stark contrast to the lively cacophony typical before a race. The silent tension was palpable, primarily due to the unfortunate fate that had befallen several prominent teams. The chaos of lap one had claimed the cars of Mercedes, McLaren, Williams, and Kick Sauber, leaving a mere twelve competitors to continue the battle. The dramatic incidents during that opening lap had condensed the field from the usual twenty to just twelve vehicles, creating a sense of urgency and vulnerability among the remaining drivers. In response, the FIA announced a revised plan to conduct only twenty more laps, with the surviving drivers now resting on soft compound tires, each one feeling the weight of anticipation as they waited for the iconic lights to extinguish.

When the lights finally flickered off, a surge of adrenaline propelled the drivers forward, marking a renewed sense of vigor amidst the lingering uncertainty. As they raced off the grid, a rare moment of calm settled over the track, yet it was soon disrupted by an unexpected announcement from the FIA: Charles Leclerc had been handed a 5-second time penalty for speeding while under the yellow flag, a determination that echoed through the paddock like a bolt of lightning.

After an exhilarating thirteen laps filled with daring overtakes and strategic plays, the FIA dropped another bombshell: the race would be aborted after the next lap. This news prompted an urgent yet uplifting radio message from team principal Hugh, whose voice was a blend of excitement and encouragement. "Last lap, mate. You're in first, come on, bring it home. Push, push!” he urged, his enthusiasm radiating through the airwaves. To further bolster Jake's focus, Hugh played a motivational anthem—“Power” by Kanye West—whose powerful rhythm and lyrics served as the perfect backdrop, bringing to mind the walk-out routine of Wynter’s college football team that had sparked countless moments of inspiration.

“Hmm, Hugh, who told you this is one of my favorite songs ever?” Jake responded, a playful glint in his eyes as he reveled in the familiar melody. As he buttoned down his focus, he navigated the final turns of the circuit, but then, in a moment of profound sportsmanship, made a surprising decision that would alter the race's outcome: he chose to relinquish his lead to Max.

“Mate, why did you do that?” Hugh queried, the confusion evident in his tone, trying to grasp the reasoning behind Jake’s selfless act.

Jake's tone shifted to one of reflection and conviction as he explained, “I did this because, aside from Lewis, only Max and Carlos have welcomed me with open arms here. Max was ahead before that incident; I’m just giving back what he never lost.” With a genuine smile, Jake gestured for Max to take the lead, a sentiment of goodwill that echoed loudly in their intense competitive world. Max responded with a grateful thumbs-up, his focus unwavering as he accelerated toward the finish line, crossing it first to claim victory. Jake, in a selfless second-place, crossed the line with a mix of satisfaction and pride for his decision.

“Well done then. That was an admirable move. Good race, and congratulations on P2,” Hugh remarked, his voice a blend of pride and respect for the driver’s choice. Moments later, Christian, their team's exuberant principal, broke through on Jake’s radio, his excitement infectious.

"Well done, mate! Thanks for giving Max the win in his hometown. I promise he’ll make it up to you... somehow. Regardless, fantastic race and what a remarkable day. Enjoy P2, mate," Christian said, his joy palpable and heartfelt.

As the checkered flag was waved, both Jake and Max parked their cars and hurried to embrace one another, reveling in the shared respect forged through racing and personal integrity. Soon after, Willa and Wynter approached, their bright smiles illuminating the atmosphere. Wynter leaned in to give Jake a tender kiss, her warmth providing a lovely contrast to the adrenaline of the day, while Willa enveloped Max in a comforting hug. As they celebrated, the sound of champagne corks popping filled the air, an effervescent celebration that marked a conclusive end to an unforgettable race day—a day defined by camaraderie, sportsmanship, and shared triumphs amidst the thrills of competition..

Chapter Text

After the exhilarating race that had left the fans on the edge of their seats, a much-anticipated two-week break lay ahead for both the drivers and their devoted supporters. Opinions about this break varied—some drivers welcomed the chance to unwind and recharge, while others felt the pang of separation from the thrill of competition. As the sun began to set over the vibrant landscape of the Netherlands, casting a warm golden hue on the departing crowd at the airport, the Red Bull driver duo found themselves facing an unexpected farewell.

Jake was preparing for his journey back to his picturesque hometown of Seabrook, eager to reconnect with old friends and support his girlfriend, Wynter, in her final year at Texas A&M. Max, on the other hand, was off to his luxurious apartment in Monaco, a sleek haven that overlooked the azure waters of the Mediterranean—a stark contrast to the flat Netherlands.

"You don’t think you could join me in Monaco, do you?" Max suggested playfully, a mischievous grin lighting up his face as Wynter, Willa, and Jake lined up at the gate for their flight to Texas.

Jake laughed, shaking his head with genuine warmth. "Nah, it’s a tempting offer, but I don’t want to miss out on Wynter's senior year. What kind of boyfriend would I be if I skipped out on her games, right?" His playful tone masked a deeper sense of responsibility as he prepared to wish Max safe travels.

Just as he was about to extend his well-wishes, a lightbulb moment struck him. "Hey, you know, if Willa’s okay with it, why don’t you take her with you? You two seem to hit it off really well, especially when it comes to the idea of being life partners." Jake nudged Willa lightly on the shoulder to draw her into the conversation.

“Yeah, Jake, what’s up?” Willa asked, her eyes wide with curiosity as she shifted her attention to him.

Jake pointed teasingly at Max as he stated "Willa, I think you’re incredible, and I’d like to know if you’d want to spend the break with me in Monaco."

Willa's face transformed with pure excitement. She gasped loudly, overwhelmed by the unexpected proposition, and before anyone could react, she leaped into Max's arms, her enthusiasm radiating like sunshine. "I would love to spend the break with you! This is amazing! I’ve actually been wanting to say something else, too..."

Max raised an inquisitive eyebrow, his interest piqued. “Yeah, what is it, Willa?” he prompted gently, leaning closer to her, eager to hear what she had to express.

With a rush of flustered energy, Willa blurted out, “Ithinkyourearereallycoolpersonandilovehowyouvebeensupportiveofmeandiwaswonderingifyouwanttobemyboyfriend?” The words spilled out in a colorful jumble, a whirlwind of emotion that made it hard to catch even a single phrase.

Max chuckled, the corners of his mouth lifting in amusement. "Whoa, slow down, W. I think I caught part of that, but can you try again, please?" He held her hands tightly, offering a reassuring smile, hoping to help her regain her composure.

Taking a steadying breath, Willa concentrated, her cheeks still flushed with excitement. "Okay... What I wanted to say is, Max Emillian Verstappen, I really admire the way you’ve been there for me—how supportive you've been during some of my tough moments. I was wondering if you would consider being my boyfriend?" Her earnestness shone through as she looked into his eyes, vulnerable yet hopeful.

With her heart racing, she felt a rush of relief wash over her as Max gently cupped her cheeks, leaning in for a sweet kiss. The moment deepened, transforming into an impassioned makeout session—a synchronized dance of affection that captured the thrill of new beginnings.

"Will that count as a yes, Wills?" Max asked playfully, breaking the kiss while a shy smile spread across Willa's lips, her face aglow with happiness.

Jake, witnessing the sweet exchange with a broad grin, decided to intervene, "Okay, I love this for you two, but Wynter and I really do have to leave now. Max, mate, I’ll see you in Monaco in two weeks. Willa, I guess I’ll see you again then as well," he said warmly while shaking Max's hand firmly. He pulled Willa into a heartfelt hug, grateful for the blossoming connection between them.

“Can’t wait, J. Enjoy the break!" Max called out, his face lighting up with excitement. He and Willa waved goodbye as Jake and Wynter walked away, the promise of reunion hanging in the air like a sweet melody. Max and Willa exchanged glances filled with anticipation, ready to embark on their own adventures during the upcoming break.

Chapter Text

After a rejuvenating two-week vacation away from their bustling town and Wynter's demanding college life, it was finally time for the wolf-girl to embark on her final year of college football. The season opener was set against the formidable Notre Dame at the iconic Kyle Field, a venue known for its electric atmosphere and passionate fanbase.

This highly anticipated matchup was poised to be the most-watched game of the week, showcasing the #17 Texas A&M Aggies as they faced off against the #9 Fighting Irish. The stakes were high, drawing the attention of the ESPN 'College Gameday' crew, eager to capture the energy and excitement surrounding this clash of titans.

In the dimly lit locker room, Wynter felt the familiar mix of excitement and nerves as she prepared for the game. Jake, her supportive partner, was just outside, helping the staff of Texas A&M with the final touches on the sidelines. Coach Mike Elko, with the weight of a contract renewal on his shoulders, knew that a strong season opener could be crucial in securing his future with the team. He was determined to lead the Aggies into the bright lights of the College Football Playoff, and all eyes were on his players to deliver a stellar performance.

Dressed in a striking blackout uniform that included a sleek black jersey featuring the SEC graduate patch, black pants, and polished black cleats, Wynter was ready to showcase her skills. She was a dual-position athlete, shining as both a wide receiver and cornerback, and her intensity was palpable as she focused on the task ahead.

As the hours passed and the pre-game festivities unfolded, the joyous chaos of tailgating faded, leaving a hushed anticipation in the stadium. When everything was finally set, Jake helped arrange Gatorade tanks and fans along the sidelines to keep the star athletes cool under the bright stadium lights. The fans, buzzing with excitement, took their seats, united in their hopes for their team.

Eagerly waiting for the return of a classic walkout song, the crowd erupted in cheers as Kanye West’s 'Power' began to fill the air, reverberating through the stands. Wynter, fueled by adrenaline and the roar of the crowd, led her teammates onto the field with a fierce determination that electrified the atmosphere. As one of the team captains, proudly wearing the number 22—a number she had carried from her days with the Mighty Shrimp—Wynter was ready to make her mark and lead the Aggies to victory in this pivotal opening game.

At the kickoff, there was roars throughout the stadium as the 12th man, the dedicated Aggie student section, alongside all the fans, were all standing on their feet as the kick returner for Notre Dame fielded the opening kickoff and ran out, before being hit with the full power of a wolf as Wynter forced the ball loose with her hit, resulting in the Aggies getting a fumble recovery on the first play of the game.

Wynter burst onto the field with an explosive energy, quickly finding her designated position as a receiver on the offense. As the quarterback called the play, she focused intently, anticipating the snap. With grace and agility, she caught the ball cleanly, her eyes locked on the end zone as she sprinted forward. Every stride propelled her closer to the goal line, and with a final burst of speed, she crossed into the end zone, scoring a swift touchdown. The crowd erupted in a symphony of cheers, celebrating the Texas Aggies’ rapid ascent to a 7-0 lead over the Irish.

“Hey, great sequence, Barko! If you keep making plays like those first two, you’ll be all over the news as a possible Heisman Trophy candidate,” Coach Elko exclaimed, pride lighting up his features. He reached out and gently tapped the top of Wynter’s helmet as she jogged off the field momentarily. Though her adrenaline was still pumping, she knew the importance of taking breaks, especially with the restrictions on how much a player can participate each week. Yet, in Coach Elko’s eyes, Wynter was a powerhouse; if it were solely up to him, she would dominate the field through every play.

Meanwhile, Notre Dame's team began to find their rhythm, stringing together a series of calculated plays that propelled them all the way to the 45-yard line on Texas’s side of the field. The tension in the stadium was palpable, and realizing they needed to shift the momentum in their favor, the DJ unleashed the upbeat and infectious sounds of Sheck Wes’s ‘Mo Bamba.’ With the bass thumping vibrantly, the crowd’s energy surged, chanting and dancing in unison, further establishing Kyle Field’s reputation as one of the most intimidating places to play.

In this electrifying atmosphere, Coach Elko made a crucial decision. He signaled for Wynter to return to the field, tasking her with guarding Notre Dame’s star wide receiver—an assignment that would require her utmost concentration and skill. As the players lined up, Wynter locked her gaze onto the receiver, her heart racing in sync with the pulsating music surrounding her.

The Notre Dame quarterback took a moment, scanning the field and sizing up the defense, then snapped the ball. He released a powerful throw, aiming it directly toward the receiver Wynter was covering. In an instant, Wynter sprang into action, anticipating the trajectory of the pass. With remarkable speed and timing, she leaped into the air, her hands outstretched as she intercepted the ball—a breathtaking moment frozen in time.

The roar of the crowd reached a deafening crescendo as she seized control of the ball, pivoting on her heel and sprinting down the sideline, her adrenaline giving her wings. With every stride, she could feel the thrill of victory within her grasp. As she neared the end zone, she dashed past the last defender and dove into the air, crossing the goal line with exhilaration.

As Wynter landed in the end zone, she was enveloped in the jubilant atmosphere, and without hesitation, she leaped into the stands, celebrating with the fans who were cheering her name. The scoreboard now shone brightly, reflecting Texas A&M’s commanding 14-0 lead at the end of the first quarter. The electrifying energy in the stadium promised an unforgettable game ahead, with Wynter determined to keep the momentum on her team’s side.

From that pivotal moment onward, the Notre Dame football team transformed into a well-oiled machine, executing plays with precision and confidence. As they pushed forward on the field, their offense dazzled with a mix of powerful runs and precise passes, leaving the Texas A&M defense scrambling to keep up. The second quarter became a showcase of Notre Dame's dominance, as they completely shut down any hope of a counterattack from their opponents.

However, in a surprising twist of strategy, the Notre Dame coach decided to call a daring play just before halftime, eager to capitalize on their momentum. He aimed for a touchdown, believing it would send an electric charge through his team and the fans alike.

As the tension mounted on the sidelines, Wynter was summoned back onto the field. Her teammates, who had been resting and recharging, greeted her with encouraging pats on her helmet, a silent acknowledgment of her skills and importance to the team's success. With fierce concentration, she locked her gaze on the receiver she had shadowed earlier, ready to prove herself once more.

"You got lucky last time, 22," the receiver taunted, an air of arrogance in his tone. He let a wad of spit fly onto the grass between them, his bravado palpable. "My offense made a bad play; there’s no way you’re getting this one."

Wynter smirked, unfazed by his bravado. "Well, if that’s really what you think, just make sure it comes your way. Your QB better not miss…" she shot back, a playful challenge hanging in the air as the crowd buzzed with anticipation.

When the ball was finally snapped, the energy surged. The Notre Dame receiver bolted toward the end zone, making a sharp left cut and calling for the ball with urgency. The quarterback, feeling the pressure of the moment, released the pass with a forceful throw aimed straight for him.

In a flash of determination, Wynter launched herself into the air, her muscles coiling and releasing with incredible power. She soared above the receiver, snatching the ball out of the air in a flawless interception. The sudden silence of the crowd was replaced by the roar of excitement as she landed gracefully, quickly pivoting on her heel and exploding downfield.

The thrill of the chase electrified her; each stride brought her closer to victory. The military cadets erupted in cheers, their voices rising from the reserved rows as she galloped forward. She tore past the first 25 yards, flying by the Air Force Cadets, who watched in awe.

Without missing a beat, she continued her impressive breakaway, leaving the Army cadets in her dust as she powered through another 25 yards. Her speed was unrelenting as she outran the Navy cadets, displaying an exhilarating blend of agility and speed. Finally, she flew past the Marine Corps cadets, each 25-yard increment fueling her momentum.

As she crossed into the end zone, the crowd erupted into a frenzy of celebration, and Wynter basked in her triumph. With adrenaline coursing through her veins, she turned to taunt the Notre Dame fans, their expressions a mix of disbelief and frustration at what had just unfolded. This spectacular play secured a commanding 21-0 lead for Texas A&M, marking an unforgettable crescendo to an electrifying first half of football action.

After the halftime break, Wynter burst onto the field, electrifying the crowd with a series of dazzling plays that showcased her extraordinary skills. Her performance earned her the esteemed Player of the Week honors on both offense and defense, as the Notre Dame team finally found their rhythm and began scoring. The atmosphere in the stadium was electric, and with just 15 seconds remaining on the clock, cheers erupted from the stands. Meanwhile, the visiting section filled with Notre Dame fans was already vacating as they prepared to make the long journey back to Indiana for the next weekend’s games. The score flashed a dominant 64-31, with Texas A&M putting on a spectacular show that delighted their loyal fans and garnered widespread acclaim.

As the final play of the game drew near, Wynter confidently lined up as a receiver, ready for one last desperate attempt to find the end zone and add to the Aggies' impressive tally.

The tension in the air was palpable as the ball was snapped, with Texas A&M fans on the edge of their seats, eagerly anticipating the opportunity to rush the field after securing a victory that had seemed improbable just hours earlier, given that they had been predicted to lose by 17 points.

On the radio, the voice of the official Texas A&M broadcaster rang out with excitement: "With only 15 seconds left on the clock, Texas A&M is going for one last shot toward the end zone. Everyone expects this play to go to the all-star, Barkowitz, who stands poised on the left side of the field. The ball is snapped, and suddenly, number 22 loses her defender, who collides awkwardly with a teammate! Wynter is wide open downfield! She has a clear shot! Reed, with a powerful toss, sends the ball soaring 56 yards, and Wynter makes an incredible catch at the 30! She accelerates to the 20! The 15! The 10! The 5! TOUCHDOWN AGGIES! TOUCHDOWN BARKOWITZ! TEXAS A&M TAKES THE GAME WITH A FINAL SCORE OF 70-31, AS THE CLOCK HITS ZERO HERE AT KYLE FIELD! What an incredible upset. Congratulations, Aggies—you played with heart and determination, truly well deserved! This has been radio reporter Kyle Bush, signing off for now. Gig 'Em!"

Back on the field, a palpable sense of euphoria enveloped everyone as the post-game celebrations erupted like a colorful fireworks display. The Texas A&M team, animated with excitement, joined forces to shower Wynter with the last remnants of cool, sticky Gatorade and refreshing water, a jubilant tribute to her extraordinary performance during the game. As the cascade of liquids glistened under the stadium lights, Wynter triumphantly removed her helmet, her hair cascading down in disarray, and released a victorious howl that soared into the night sky, echoing her elation. Surrounding her, the fans invaded the field like a tide, their cheers reverberating in the air as they split into two energetic groups. One faction, filled with youthful exuberance, hoisted the goalposts above their heads, dragging them gleefully toward Coach Elko’s house, hooting and hollering with every step. The other group, a mix of wide-eyed admirers and staunch supporters, rushed towards Wynter, eager for a cherished autograph or a quick selfie with the budding NFL star, each person hoping to capture a small piece of the magic that she represented.

"Baby...

Where do I even begin? That was an absolutely magnificent game, and it was only your first of the season! With your skills on the field, this Texas A&M team has a real shot at making the playoffs. You played outstandingly!" Jake exclaimed, his voice brimming with excitement and pride as he pulled Wynter into a tight hug. The exhilaration of the moment lingered in the air around them, the bright lights of the stadium casting a warm glow on their faces.

Wynter, the soon-to-be first-round NFL draft pick, flashed him a playful grin. "I've been made aware of that," she quipped sassily, the corners of her mouth lifting in a confident smirk. She flipped her long, flowing hair over her shoulder, a signature move that highlighted her fierce persona. As she glanced at her reflection in the nearby window, she began fiddling with her hair, ready to touch it up after the adrenaline-fueled game.

Jake's grin widened, fueled by the thrill of the evening. "I can't think of a better way to celebrate than a night out on the town. How about we indulge in some delicious wings at that new chicken wing place that just opened? I’ve heard their flavors are to die for! And then, we can finally catch that movie we've been wanting to see for weeks," he suggested eagerly, tossing the truck keys toward Wynter, his eyes sparkling with excitement and anticipation.

As they leaned in for an exuberant kiss, their hearts racing from the chemistry and adrenaline between them, their intimate moment was suddenly interrupted. A stadium manager, startled by their display of affection, turned a bright spotlight in their direction, abruptly breaking the spell.

"Ugh, what is it about us always getting caught right before it gets good?" Wynter exclaimed, her voice dripping with playful frustration as she rolled her eyes. Without missing a beat, she hopped into the truck, her movements graceful and confident. She turned on the engine, feeling the rumble resonate beneath her as the night air filled with the promise of adventure. With a quick glance at Jake, she put the vehicle into gear and sped off into the night, ready to embark on their celebration and create lasting memories together.

Chapter Text

After the exhilarating game, Wynter and Jake made their way to Buffalo Wild Wings in College Station, eager to unwind and celebrate Wynter's impressive performance on the field.

As soon as they stepped inside, a wave of excitement washed over Wynter. She was immediately surrounded by a throng of fans, ranging from enthusiastic children to adoring adults, all clamoring for her autograph. The once-quiet atmosphere surged with energy, a mix of shouts and laughter creating a delightful chaos. Once the initial frenzy died down and the crowd returned to their tables, Jake and Wynter retreated to a cozy corner near the pop-a-shot basketball game. A television mounted high on the wall was playing highlights of the game, showcasing Barkowitz's stunning skills and discussing her candidacy for the prestigious Heisman Trophy.

"It feels amazing to be surrounded by fans. Thank God the media isn’t here, though. Sometimes I just crave a little quiet," Wynter said, watching the waiter disappear into the bustling crowd to fetch their drinks.

"Yeah, it’s cool when everyone’s chanting your name, but there’s something special about these moments of normalcy too," Jake replied, nodding in agreement as he leaned back in his chair.

"Hey, I know football is your passion and racing is mine, but how about a friendly game of basketball to decide who’s paying for dinner tonight?" Jake proposed, gesturing toward the arcade cabinet that beckoned them with the promise of fun competition.

"Aww, that's cute! Watching you suffer a defeat wasn't enough? You’re asking for another one?" Wynter teased, playfully rising to examine the arcade machine, a grin playing on her lips.

"Quit teasing me... You’re the cute one here, and remember the last time we played pop-a-shot at that arcade in Silverstone? You lost by a whopping 23 points," Jake said, a mix of amusement and challenge in his voice as he tried to shift the playful banter.

"Yeah, well, that wasn't fair. You had played on that exact machine before, and you knew a trick that made your baskets count as double shots," Wynter retorted, feigning hurt, though a hint of defeat crept into her tone as she noticed the paparazzi starting to flash their cameras outside the restaurant. Panic lit up her eyes as she darted toward the bathroom. “You didn’t see me, right?” she asked anxiously, clearly uneasy about the attention.

“Yup, never saw you. You're just a regular college girl enjoying a date with a friend,” Jake confirmed, offering her comfort as he tried to calm her nerves. Just then, two elegantly dressed individuals walked into the restaurant, drawing his attention. He quickly turned on his headphones to eavesdrop on the conversation picked up by the cameras at the check-in desk.

"Yeah, that table's for two under 'Hearts,'" remarked the woman on the right, distinguished by her blue hair and smaller stature.

"Chloe, why did you have to choose the most crowded restaurant in the state for dinner tonight?" the redhead to her left complained, palpable disdain for the media swirling around her.

"Red, you've been wanting to meet that all-star college receiver for ages, and she just played a game not too long ago. There's a good chance she could be in this restaurant," Chloe responded, pushing back slightly against her companion’s frustration.

"If you’re right..." Red started, her voice trailing off. At that moment, Jake quickly turned off his headphones and sent a text to Wynter, assuring her that it was now safe to emerge—those paparazzi were there for someone else, while Red and Chloe settled at the table in front of them, oblivious to Wynter's presence nearby.

“Hey, so it turns out the paparazzi were actually focused on the table in front of us, or rather, behind you. A fan named Red has been desperate to meet you, and her blue-haired companion has speculated that you might be here,” Jake said, glancing around the bustling room as he updated Wynter on the chaotic press situation.

Wynter’s eyes sparkled with excitement, her bubbly personality shining through. “Oh, really? If that’s the case, I always have time for my fans! Do you want to ask them if they’d like to meet me?” she replied, a wide grin spreading across her face.

“Um, sure, why not?” Jake said, a little hesitant but mostly eager. He made his way over to the table where Red and Chloe were seated, animatedly weaving in and out of conversation. As he approached, he caught snippets of Red’s ecstatic laughter, bursting forth like confetti when she spotted Wynter. Suddenly, she sprinted towards her, causing a few heads to turn. The two shared a heartfelt moment, their joy palpable. Meanwhile, Jake turned his attention to Chloe, who remained seated.

“So, uh, you really have a big fan over there,” he remarked, trying to fill the silence as he glanced back at Red.

“Yes, she’s always been incredibly passionate about football. I can’t quite wrap my head around it; to me, it seems like just a bunch of people getting paid to smash into each other,” Chloe replied with a thoughtful sigh, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered the sport.

“That's a bold statement coming from the captain of your school’s Swords and Shields team. One wrong move, and it’s game over—literally. I assume you understand how serious that can be?” Jake shot back, a hint of playful sarcasm in his voice. Chloe nodded, a moment of realization washing over her as she remembered the risks inherent in her own sport.

“Hey, wait a minute... Do I know you from somewhere?” Chloe suddenly asked, her gaze intensifying as she peered into Jake’s eyes, as if searching for answers. “I mean, do you watch any kind of racing? Formula One is pretty much the only thing I’ve done that’s put my face all over television.”

“Perhaps that’s it. Honestly, being a soon-to-be queen of my kingdom doesn’t leave me much time to follow my favorite celebrities on social media,” Chloe shrugged, a playful smirk appearing on her lips as she leaned back in her chair.

Chapter Text

The lively duo had transformed into a lively quartet as they maneuvered to combine their tables. Red and Wynter were engrossed in a spirited discussion about college football, their voices animated with excitement, leaving Jake and Chloe to forge their own conversation amidst the friendly chaos.

"So, it’s Chloe, right?" Jake inquired, his tone casual yet curious as he looked at the blue-haired princess. He used the question to break the ice after Red had made the introductions.

"Uh, yeah. I just realized I never introduced myself properly, but I suppose you’ve read enough about me to catch that witty comeback directed at the other table," Chloe replied, her cheeks tinged with a hint of embarrassment. "Sorry, I can be a bit of a rambler when I’m nervous. I'm Chloe, soon-to-be queen of Cinderellasburgh and, someday, the queen of Wonderland, once she figures everything out. It’s nice to meet you at last!" She smiled warmly, offering her hand for a handshake, her laughter ringing like music.

Jake smiled back, feeling at ease in her presence. "That’s a common trend around the paddock, especially for Wyn and me. Don’t worry about it, Chloe; it happens to all of us," he reassured her, grasping her hand firmly. "As for me, there’s not much to share since I’m not royalty or anything grand like that. But I do drive for Red Bull in Formula 1." His voice held a note of pride, reflecting his passion for racing.

"Uh, yeah, just realized I never really introduced ourselves, but, you read a decent amount about me to hit that snarky remark back at the other table." Chloe said "Sorry, I'm a rambler when I get nervous. I'm Chloe, soon-to-be queen of Cinderellasburgh, and soon-to-be queen of Wonderland, once she gets her shit together. Nice to meet you properly." The blue-head stated with a laugh as she offered a handshake to the F1 driver.

"That's a common trend around the paddock, especially for Wyn and me. Don't feel embarrassed by it Chloe, it just happens. The name's Jake." He stated comfortably, accepting the princess's handshake. "Uhm, not much to say about myself, 'cause I'm not royalty or anything, but, I am a driver for Red Bull in F1."

“Oh, I recognize you now! That's what it was!” Chloe exclaimed, a playful grin spreading across her face. “I haven’t seen you much in the Netflix series—Red is absolutely obsessed with that show, so if there's any accusation to be made, direct it at her and not me!” She let out a light, melodic laugh, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “No wonder it took me a moment to place your face; I must not have been paying close enough attention.”

Jake gasped dramatically, clutching his chest in mock despair as laughter bubbled up within him. “Oh no! A ‘Drive to Survive’ fan?” he exclaimed, feigning horror. “Don’t worry! She’s actually a decent person. There are far worse individuals in our fanbase,” he defended, gesturing animatedly toward the spirited redhead beside him, clearly intent on mitigating any negative impressions.

Chloe’s expression shifted from amusement to concern as she navigated through her thoughts. “From what I’ve been reading in the news lately, I can actually believe that,” she said, her voice growing somber. “Our governments are seriously debating the cancellation of the Auradon Grand Prix due to the Silverstone terrorist attack. They’re afraid that if we proceed, the event could bring another attack, potentially bringing chaos and casualties right to our doorstep,” she added, running her fingers through her hair in frustration. “While I understand that the safety of the people has to come first, I was genuinely looking forward to the thrill and excitement of the race.”

Jake nodded, his expression contemplative. “That’s certainly a valid perspective,” he acknowledged, “but I was mainly referring to the Mercedes fans. Those diehard supporters from that so-called ‘ghetto university’ cling to the belief that Hamilton rightfully won in 2021, and it’s like they just can’t get over it—four whole years later! It’s exhausting!” he said, his voice tinged with sarcasm as he quoted a Kanye West lyric, shaking his head in disbelief at the unwavering loyalty of the silver team’s followers.

“Yeah, that was definitely a monumental moment in the sport,” Chloe agreed, her tone shifting to one of reflection. “But honestly, I can see both sides of the argument—there are strong proponents for Hamilton and Verstappen alike. One side is adamant that it wasn’t fair; that wasn’t how you should conclude a safety car situation. Yet, what we truly want as fans is to see that championship decided on the track, in a thrilling race that captures all the drama and excitement!” she declared passionately, her hands gesturing animatedly as she spoke. As Chloe's intensity resonated with him, Jake's frustrations seemed to dissipate, replaced by a sense of camaraderie born from their shared love for the sport.

Chapter Text

After a stunning and dominant blowout victory against the University of Notre Dame Fighting Irish, the excitement of the second week of the college football season was palpable. The Texas A&M Aggies were gearing up for their next matchup, a game that, on paper, appeared to hold little significance for them since they were heavily favored to win. However, this game was crucial—if the Aggies were to stumble and lose, they would plummet from their respectable #9 ranking in the nation to the fringes of the top 50, making every moment leading up to the game feel like a high-stakes gamble.

The weekend preceding the game was filled with a whirlwind of activity as special guests including the renowned Formula One driver Max Verstappen, alongside Princess Red Hearts and Princess Chloe Charming, graced the stadium to support their friend Wynter. The atmosphere was electric, with fans buzzing with excitement and franticly vying for autographs from the celebrities and royalty in attendance. The anticipation was almost tangible as enthusiastic spectators filled every corner of the stadium, their chatter mingling with the sound of music blaring from loudspeakers.

“Surprise!” Willa exclaimed joyfully, appearing unexpectedly behind Jake, who was diligently assisting the stadium crew in the intricate process of setting everything up for the Texas team. Startled, he gasped, “Shit... Willa, a warning would’ve been great next time!” After a brief moment of surprise, he quickly gathered himself and pulled her into a warm embrace. “I didn’t expect to see you until next week in Monaco,” he admitted, finally shaking off the shock.

“Yeah, well, I realized there was a chance Wynter wouldn’t be joining us since she has her season to focus on. I wanted to see her one last time before we’d be apart for three weeks,” Willa replied, her tone turning reflective as she thought about the time away from her friend.

Just then, the imposing figure of Max Verstappen entered the field, seeking to pull off his own little surprise for Jake. Sensing the familiar presence, Jake smirked and quipped, “Mate, Willa already got me. Nice try, but you’re not going to catch me off guard this time.” He turned to face Max, who stood there with a grin, clearly ready to tease. “That doesn’t mean I didn’t miss you, though. You’ve been looking after her, right?” Jake asked, showcasing his concern for Willa.

“Absolutely. I never thought I’d reach a point of running out of energy, but she’s truly one-in-a-million. You’ve chosen good friends,” Max replied, his face breaking into a mischievous grin, revealing a glimpse of his laid-back, fun-loving spirit.

“So, how about this? Are you cool with me explaining everything as it unfolds during the game? This is my first experience at one of these events,” Max asked, his curiosity simmering just below the surface.

“Of course, I can do that. Sometimes I forget you’re European, given how little you act like it,” Jake chuckled, genuinely enjoying the unfolding camaraderie between his friends as the countdown to kickoff began.

A few hours after the teams gathered back on the field, the atmosphere was electric with barely thirty minutes left until kickoff. The stadium pulsed with excitement as TV crews completed their final setups, adjusting cameras and checking equipment, while the DJ and announcer duo tested the sound system. They playfully announced player names, mixing in upbeat songs that added to the adrenaline-filled ambiance surrounding NCAA football.

As the Texas A&M team burst onto the field, the infectious energy was amplified by the powerful lyrics of "Power" reverberating through the stands. The players donned their striking maroon tops paired with crisp white pants, accented by maroon and white cleats, showcasing their spirit with the iconic maroon helmets glinting under the stadium lights. In contrast, the UTSA Roadrunners sported their sleek white uniforms, set off by bright blue helmets and vibrant orange pants, creating a visually captivating spectacle on the field.

Having won the coin toss, UTSA elected to receive the opening kickoff, positioning Wynter at cornerback. She was assigned the critical task of covering the Roadrunners' standout wide receiver, #87 Justice Hurt. With a confident grin, Hurt approached Wynter, extending his hand. “Alright, Wynter. I've heard nothing but rave reviews about your skills, and unfortunately for me, you’re my defender today. So, could you maybe take it easy?” He teased, his tone light-hearted. Wynter accepted the handshake with a smirk and replied, “Well, look at this—you’re polite on game day, huh? I might consider it since you asked so nicely.”

The suspense reached its peak when the game finally kicked off. The first play unfolded at a rapid pace, but the Texas defense struck hard. Wynter seized the moment, charging like a cannon from her cornerback position and expertly sacking the UTSA quarterback. The impact sent the Roadrunners reeling back to their 15-yard line, leaving the crowd roaring in approval. After helping the shaken sophomore QB to his feet, Wynter leaned in and whispered, “Welcome to Kyle Field, buddy,” her voice laced with a mix of friendliness and fierce competitiveness.

The quarterback, momentarily caught off guard, reacted instinctively and threw a punch in frustration. The referees, quick to respond, threw a flag, penalizing UTSA and pushing them further back to the 7-yard line. As a result of the altercation, the UTSA QB was ejected, making the situation only more heated and setting the tone for the fierce battle that was about to unfold on the field.

As Wynter strode purposefully back to the Texas A&M sideline, she unbuckled her helmet and gingerly rubbed the spot where a punch had startlingly landed. “For being so durable, I wonder why that one recoiled into my face... Helmets are designed to absorb the blow, not deliver it, right?” she mused aloud, her voice filled with a mix of disbelief and humor. Nearby, the UTSA quarterback, seething with anger from being sacked by a female player, charged toward her, his frustration boiling over. The situation escalated quickly, prompting the police to intervene and restore order amid the chaos.

Following the tumult caused by the now-arrested player, UTSA was hit with yet another penalty, forcing them back to the 4-yard line and costing them a down. The daunting odds now stood at 3rd and 30 as Wynter re-entered the field, ready to guard her wide receiver.

“Hello again, Wynter,” Justice greeted her with a mix of sincerity and regret. “I just want to apologize for what he did. His actions were completely unacceptable and don’t represent the rest of the team. I’m really sorry you had to bear the brunt of his aggression; that was his third attempt at starting a fight this season,” he added, his tone laced with sorrow.

“It’s okay. It’s not your fault; it’s his. And as for why he did it—don’t apologize. It’s just part of my wicked world out here as the only female player and the ‘wolf’ on the field,” Wynter replied, her voice steady, as the tension mounted before the next play. As the whistle blew and the game resumed, she charged forward with fierce determination, tackling the replacement quarterback in the end zone and securing two points for Texas A&M in a stunning display of skill and grit.

The atmosphere shifted dramatically when, fueled by frustration over the safety call against their team, the UTSA running back erupted in hostility towards a Texas A&M defensive lineman. The stadium DJ kicked off a powerful track, “Cult of Personality” by Living Colour, amplifying the electric tension in the air as a full-blown brawl ignited between the rival teams. The scene devolved into utter chaos, leading to the ejection of multiple UTSA players, ultimately forcing the RoadRunners to forfeit the game as they lacked the numbers to continue. Texas A&M walked away victorious with a score of 2-0.

“Well, I don’t think this is how my first football game was supposed to unfold…” Max remarked, bewilderment etching his features as he tried to comprehend the whirlwind events that had just transpired.

“Yeah, well, when you throw together a bunch of ego-inflated college kids who might believe they're above the rules of the game—let alone international laws—and pit them against a girl dominating in a male-dominated sport, we should be grateful that this didn’t spiral even further out of control,” Jake responded, facepalming in disbelief. Meanwhile, Wynter walked off the field in her street clothes, preparing to head to the airport with everyone else to bid farewell to Jake, who was gearing up to race in Monaco, Saudi Arabia, and Qatar over the next three consecutive weeks.

Chapter Text

After the whirlwind of emotions that swept through the crowd at the intense football game between the University of Texas A&M Aggies and the UTSA Roadrunners, a vibrant group of fans and team members found themselves gathered at the bustling airport. The air was thick with excitement and anticipation as they prepared to send off the drivers to the illustrious Monaco Grand Prix. Known for its treacherous circuit and breathtaking views, this race weekend is infamous for the high-speed crashes that have marred its history, making it one of the most exhilarating—and dangerous—events on the Formula 1 calendar.

“Alright, everyone, let’s have a quick briefing before we head to Monaco,” Max began, his tone authoritative yet encouraging. He stood tall, his Red Bull Racing cap tilted slightly backward, and scanned the room filled with teammates and friends. “Red Bull Racing is at the top of the Constructors’ Championship standings with a remarkable total of 186 points. In second place, with 147 points, is our closest rival, Ferrari. As for the Drivers’ Championship, you’re leading the pack with a solid 100 points, while I’m in second with 86 points.” His words resonated with the focused intensity of their sport.

“Right! And in P3 and P4,” Jake interjected, his voice sharp with concentration, “we have Lewis Hamilton at 80 points, and Charles Leclerc just behind him with 67, correct?” He sought Max’s nod of approval, eager to absorb every detail of the race standings like a sponge soaking up crucial information.

Meanwhile, in a cozy corner of the terminal, Wynter sat with an ice pack pressed gently against her cheek, the coolness a soothing balm against the swell of a bruise. Around her, the airport buzzed with the sounds of excited goodbyes and travel announcements. As Jake approached, her heart fluttered—a familiar warmth blooming within her. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear and kissed her forehead tenderly, their connection a calming anchor amidst the chaos. “Wyn, I know I won’t see you for a few weeks, but I want you to understand that I’ll be doing everything I can to stay in touch and catch every game. Okay, baby? I love you, and I’ll see you soon.”

Wynter’s cheeks warmed as she met his gaze, sparkling with emotion. “I know that,” she whispered, leaning in to capture his lips with hers in a soft yet passionate kiss. The world around them faded momentarily as they shared that intimate moment. “Just keep showing everyone why Red Bull has the best drivers, and I’ll continue proving why Texas A&M is the best football team,” she affirmed, her voice imbued with unwavering determination.

In that bustling airport, amidst the lingering scent of jet fuel and the animated chatter of travelers, their bond felt as steadfast as the engines roaring to life at the upcoming race weekend—a promise of connection and resilience, no matter how far the road ahead might stretch.

As the golden hues of sunset painted the sky, Max turned with an air of urgency, his voice breaking through the moment's excitement. "Jake, it’s time to board the plane," he said, pointing toward the sleek, polished silhouette of his private jet, gleaming under the fading sunlight. Through the tinted windows, Jake could make out five passengers already comfortably ensconced inside, with three of their faces lighting up his memory like familiar stars in a vast night sky.

"Red! What a delightful surprise to discover you’re coming to Monaco with us!" Jake exclaimed, his voice imbued with genuine joy at the thought of the fierce redhead being part of their adventure.

"Absolutely! Chlo has always dreamed of exploring France, and with us being so close, I thought it would be the perfect opportunity to show her around. Plus, I wouldn’t miss race day for the world," Red replied enthusiastically, her eyes sparkling with a vibrant mix of excitement and wanderlust as she imagined strolling through the charming streets of Paris, where the aroma of freshly baked pastries mingled with the enchanting allure of the Eiffel Tower.

On the opposite side of the cabin, Max was locked in a spirited conversation with Willa and Chloe, their laughter ringing like the sound of delicate chimes carried by a warm summer breeze. Jake made his way over, waving to the trio with a friendly smile before directing his attention back to Max.

"By the way, I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting the two in white before. Who are they?" he inquired, curiosity etched on his face.

"Oh, right! I almost forgot!" Max exclaimed, his enthusiasm palpable. "Jake, let me introduce you to Yuki Tsunoda. He’s a talented driver for our junior team, the Visa Cashapp Racing Bulls. Yuki, this is Jake," Max said, gesturing to the fiery Japanese driver, whose competitive spirit was as fierce as his vibrant racing suit.

Max then nodded towards the other driver beside Yuki, an amused grin tugging at his lips. "And this is Liam Lawson. He was originally the frontrunner for Checo’s seat, but after witnessing your remarkable performance at Mercedes—where you not only out-qualified but also outraced Russell in your debut as a reserve driver—we knew we had to secure you before they had a chance to."

With a hearty laugh, Max watched as Jake extended his hand to Yuki and Liam, initiating a handshake that signaled the start of promising new alliances. The plane's engines roared to life, and as it began to ascend into the vast expanse of the twilight sky, the world below transformed into a patchwork of dreams and possibilities, filling the cabin with a thrilling anticipation for the journey that lay ahead.

Chapter Text

“Alright, everyone, I’ll catch up with you at the hotel later,” Jake declared, his brow furrowed in frustration as he glanced down at his phone. The unknown number had been relentlessly buzzing throughout the entire flight, and he felt a surge of annoyance. Waving goodbye to his friends, he made his way to a secluded corner of the airport—away from the chaos of travelers hurrying to their gates and the blaring announcements echoing from overhead speakers.

After several rings, a voice finally emerged from the other end of the line. “Listen, I don’t know how you got this phone number, but I’d appreciate it if you could stop calling me. Thank you!” Jake shot back, irritation sharp in his tone. Just as he finished, the voice identified itself as Toto Wolff, the influential team principal of Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, instantly shifting the entire mood of the conversation.

“Kid, I get why you’re frustrated, but turn around and calm down,” Toto urged, gesturing with a light wave from his corner in the coffee shop nestled in the terminal. The inviting smell of freshly brewed coffee mingled with the sweet scent of pastries, creating an unexpected contrast to Jake's tense demeanor.

Flushing in embarrassment, Jake muttered, “Entschuldigen Sie, Herr Wolff, ich komme jetzt zu Ihnen,” as he hurried over, the distant sounds of chatter fading into a dull hum.

Once he reached the table, Jake settled into the plush chair opposite Toto, who looked serious yet approachable, his brow slightly furrowed. “As a title contender and one of the top drivers out there, you hardly know anything about Kimi Antonelli,” Toto began, frustration evident as he bit his lip, his eyes locked onto Jake with an intensity that demanded attention.

Jake furrowed his brow in confusion. “No, I haven’t heard much about him. Isn’t he currently sitting in P18 in the driver standings?” he replied, taking a sip of the rich, aromatic coffee that had just been placed before him. The warmth slid down his throat, a brief comfort amidst the weight of their conversation.

“Yes, that’s right. Right now, with me leading the team, Mercedes is on track for its worst finish in years—currently hanging onto a sixth-place spot in the team championship standings. That’s a crushing blow for all of us, especially since the other teams with our engine are outperforming us, which makes our research and development look like a complete disaster,” Toto explained, exhaling deeply, his frustration evident as he spoke in one long breath. The gravity of the situation hung in the air, creating a palpable tension around them.

“I’m just saying, I might be in the market for a new driver during the offseason. You have my number—if you’re fascinated by the idea, don’t hesitate to reach out,” Toto concluded, pushing his chair back as he signaled the end of their discussion. His expression softened slightly, yet it retained an air of professionalism.

“Goodbye, Jake,” he said, standing up, ready to move on.

“Goodbye, Toto. I’ll think about it. Oh, and danke for the coffee,” Jake replied, still reeling from the surprise encounter as he turned to leave. The buzzing excitement of the Monaco weekend loomed ahead, and as he made his way toward Max’s house—where Max had generously opened his doors to Jake and his friends—the weight of Toto’s offer lingered in his thoughts, mingling with the electric anticipation of the impending race. The lively atmosphere of the airport surrounded him, yet his mind raced, filled with possibilities and uncharted paths waiting to be explored.

Chapter Text

Jake stepped into the warm embrace of Max's stunning home nestled in the heart of Monaco. The inviting space exuded charm, from the rustic wooden accents to the soft, ambient lighting that enveloped him like a hug. One of the standout features was an impressive indoor basketball court, vibrant with energy, which added a lively pulse to the atmosphere. Additionally, a smooth, winding bike path and a meticulously maintained walkway meandered through lush greenery, elegantly leading to the paddocks where the horses grazed peacefully.

“Hey, mate, what’s going on?” Max asked, his brow knitting together with genuine curiosity as he guided Jake toward the guest room. The walls of the room were bedecked with gleaming trophies and vibrant photographs, each telling a story from his racing adventures, making it a haven for any racing enthusiast.

“I had a really intriguing conversation with Toto at the airport today. He mentioned that he wants me to step in and replace Kimi in 2026,” Jake replied, his voice a blend of excitement and disbelief. “It sounds like Wolff is preparing for what could be his worst season finish, currently sitting at P6 in the constructors' standings. The dynamic duo of AMG-Petronas hasn’t managed to score any points since the race held at the Seabrook Street Circuit,” he elaborated, sinking onto the plush bed, the softness a comforting contrast to the intensity of what he was discussing, while taking in the array of racing memorabilia that surrounded him.

“That's absolutely mind-blowing! Cadillac is planning to introduce two new grid slots, and they want you—before me? I can hardly wrap my head around that,” Max exclaimed, handing Jake a sleek TV remote with wide eyes full of surprise.

“I know, right? It’s a whirlwind of information. Honestly, I think I need to lie down and collect my thoughts,” Jake admitted, stifling a yawn that escaped as the reality of the situation settled in.

“Alright, I’ll let you get some rest, J,” Max said, stepping away from the room. As he made his way down the hallway, a sense of nostalgia washed over him, and he muttered softly to himself, “I still remember you telling me that becoming part of Red Bull was your biggest dream. I just don’t understand why you wouldn’t tell Toto to take a hike.”

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@F1NEWS: This morning, Red Bull all-star Jake Carter and Mercedes team principal Toto Wolff were seen exiting the same coffee shop at the Monaco Aeroport. I can’t help but wonder if that means we’re in for another season filled with swaps and surprises! @totowolff_original @therealjakecarter95
- @therealjakecarter95: I'm on my dream team right now, so it ain’t happening. Just make sure you’re getting your news from trusted sources, especially since the new team @cadillacf1 is about to drop some huge news about the expansion to 22. #sorrynotsorry @totowolff_original
-- @totowolff_original: My offer still will stand Jake. A lot can change in 11 race weekends. Let me know if you change your mind.

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After Jake woke up from a refreshing nap, the air around him buzzed with excitement as news spread across social media about his lively interaction with Toto. As he wandered through the expansive, opulent property, surrounded by lush greenery and the scent of blooming flowers, he was eventually spotted by Willa, who was making her way towards him with an infectious smile.

“Hey there, Jake!” she called out, her voice ringing like a sweet bell through the sun-drenched air, filled with the sounds of chirping birds above.

Jake turned to greet her, a spark of relief lighting up his face. “Oh, hello, Willa. I was just searching for someone,” he replied, pausing momentarily to catch his breath. Just moments ago, he had been startled by a fierce wolf, its eyes glinting in the sun, as it strode confidently out of the basketball court, sending his heart racing.

“Yeah, what’s up?” she asked, her curiosity piqued, as they began walking back toward the grand main house, with its sprawling lawns and elegant architecture that gleamed in the afternoon light.

“I was hoping you could help me find Max's fridge. I’m feeling a little peckish and was thinking about rummaging through for some snacks or perhaps cooking something for lunch,” he said, plopping down onto the soft, inviting cushions of the luxurious couch in the spacious living room, where sunlight streamed through the tall windows, casting playful patterns on the hardwood floor.

Willa chuckled, her eyes sparkling with amusement as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “Well, if you can hold on a bit longer, Red and Chloe are on their way back from Paris. They promised to bring us back some incredible food that I’m sure you’ll love!” she replied, glancing at the television as Jake flipped through channels on ESPN, eager to catch any updates on Wynter’s football game that had taken place while he was deep in slumber.

Jake grinned, a playful glint in his eyes. “That sounds great! But I assume your next suggestion will be that you’re off to take a shower because you could really use one. You smell worse than that time you discovered what happens when rain and sweat collide. I’m still struggling to get that mildewy scent out of my car!” He teased, his tone light yet mischievous, filling the room with a warmth that came from their easy camaraderie and playful banter.

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@12thmanfootball: Wynter Barkowitz delivered an outstanding all-star performance, earning the SEC's Defensive Player of the Week title. She recorded 6 sacks, 13 tackles for loss, and a total of 30 tackles, allowing only 47 yards. On the offensive side, she scored 2 touchdowns and rushed for another, while also making three interceptions, one of which was returned for a touchdown. Thanks to her remarkable efforts, our Aggies defeated the Utah State Aggies 40-25 in our first road game of the year. #gigem @thyoriginalwbark22
- @thyorginalwbark22: Just another day at work. I hope at least one of the 32 NFL teams is tuning in because I seriously feel like I should be a top-five draft pick. I’m really hoping for @steelers or @houstontexans. Big shoutout to my boy @therealjakecarter95 for snagging the POLE POSITION out in Monaco! Don't forget to catch the Formula One Tag Heuer Grand Prix De Monaco on @espn at 8 AM Central/9 AM Eastern, and show some love to my new sponsor, Red Bull! #GIGEM
-- @therealjakecarter95: I knew you and TAMU were bringing the heat!!! You’re killing it, keep it up, and congrats on that sponsorship, Wynnie!

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Chapter Text

The illustrious Monaco Grand Prix, renowned as one of the most prestigious races in the Formula 1 calendar, takes place on a unique road circuit nestled within the sun-drenched principality of Monaco, which borders France. This iconic track, measuring 3.337 kilometers (2.074 miles), presents a formidable challenge with its combination of narrow streets and tight corners, stretching over 78 demanding laps. The lap record, a remarkable achievement, is set at 1:14.260 by Max Verstappen in 2018.

As the tension mounted in the paddock, Hugh turned to Jake and said, “So, Jake, here we are—78 intense laps on the tightest corners of the entire F1 schedule.” With a sense of urgency in his voice, he continued, “Considering you’re starting from pole position and are the reigning F2 champion, you understand that where you begin often determines where you finish.” His words hung in the air as Jake and Max executed their formation lap, strategically positioning themselves on the front row for the start of the race.

"Absolutely," Jake replied, his focus unwavering. "It's critical that I launch off the line strong using the soft tires before transitioning to the mediums. The bigger the gap I can create during my pit stop, the more advantageous it will be." His insight reflected a deep understanding of the race dynamics, as if he could almost read Hugh's mind.

"Exactly right," Hugh affirmed, a nod of approval indicating his confidence in Jake's strategy. "Now, I’ll let you concentrate on the race ahead; the wheel is yours." With that, the anticipation reached its peak as the race officially commenced, setting the stage for an exhilarating showdown on the streets of Monaco.
With Lando triumphantly returning from injury and lining up in P3, he was determined to assert himself against Jake. The tension mounted as he launched into a dangerously aggressive overtaking attempt on Turn 1. However, with the Red Bulls already entrenched on the racing line, Lando found himself unable to complete the maneuver, resulting in a chaotic tumble of misfortune. Norris lost his front wing upon impact, while Verstappen suffered damage to his rear wing and a puncture in his back left tire as Lando’s shattered wing sprayed debris across the track.

The chaos escalated dramatically as the Mercedes duo of George and Kimi, caught off guard by Lando's abrupt stop, scrambled to avoid disaster. Kimi swerved desperately to evade a direct hit on Lando, but his evasive action sent him crashing into the barrier, devastating his left-side suspension. Behind, George was unable to dodge the unfolding calamity, crashing into the front of his Mercedes, which sent Lando’s car flying atop George's. The scene was catastrophic, triggering a red flag as cars continued to pile up at the barrier like dominoes. In the end, only three cars remained unscathed: Max, Carlos, and Jake. Carter and Verstappen had already retreated to Turn 8 when the mayhem unfolded, while Sainz, who had started at P20, managed to brake just in time to avoid the chaos.

"I figured Norris would go for that move, but I never expected him to take out 16 others along with him," Jake lamented, facepalming in disbelief.

"Yeah, well, that's the nature of Monaco—it’s just too tight for maneuvers like that," Carlos chimed in as he joined the others in their garage.

"Mind if I grab a Red Bull?" Carlos asked while reaching into the mini-fridge, his eyes glimmering with mischief.

"Go for it, smooth operator. But seriously, how are they going to handle this? With only three cars left, will it just be a single lap for the podium?" Jake pondered aloud, his brow furrowed in concern as Willa arrived and pressed a gentle kiss on Max's cheek.

"I’m not sure, mate. I haven’t witnessed a controversy quite like this since 2021. I imagine they’ll allow some teams to make repairs so we can have more than three finishers. It wouldn't surprise me if this ends up with nobody receiving points or a podium ceremony at all. There’s not much they can do—10 out of the 16 involved are wrecked beyond repair today, and 5 of the other 6, which includes me, can’t legally fix what they need to in the middle of the race. As for the last one, it looks like Williams is playing it safe, so they might end up sitting it out as well," Max said, giving a thorough assessment of the wreckage and his thoughts on the unpredictable future of the race.

Chapter Text

Amid the whirlwind of the Monaco Grand Prix, Jake found himself perched on the edge of the pit wall, surrounded by the intoxicating scent of high-octane fuel and the deafening roar of engines echoing off the luxurious coastal backdrop. His pulse quickened—not just from the fierce competition unfolding on the narrow, winding streets of Monte Carlo, but from an underlying anxiety as he awaited word on the race’s impending restart. Just when he thought he might drown in the surrounding tumult, a crew member approached him, urgency radiating from their every movement as they delivered the crucial news: he had a phone call waiting.

“Hey, Wynter, what’s going on, baby?” Jake spoke tenderly, trying to infuse warmth into the connection as he immediately sensed the tremor in her voice. The faint sound of her quiet sobs reverberated through the phone, creating a tight knot of concern in his stomach. “You know the Aggies were set to play the Florida Gators at Kyle Field today, right?” Wynter's voice quivered, her words soft and punctuated by sniffles that intensified Jake’s worry. He nodded, though she couldn’t see him, his response a gentle “Mhmm.”

"Well, at the end of the game, there was a Florida player who manged to rip my kit top off, and he started grabbing at my upper section, and manged to get my bra off before my team protected me and police started surronding him, but, the damage was done." Wynter said full of sobs, each one tearing through her abilty to speak. "Are you saying that you were touched without your consent Wynter?" Jake asked with a fury in her voice, before calming down to help Wynter.

“Yeah, I was…” Wynter's voice faltered, each word breaking apart as if weighed down by the emotional burden she carried. “Wynter, baby, just breathe. Take your time. Tell me what’s happening,” Jake urged, his tone steady and reassuring, trying to provide her with the support she so desperately needed.

After a shaky intake of breath, Wynter managed to gather herself. “I’ve already filed a complaint with the security at Kyle Field about the incident, and I’ve contacted Florida Police. They promised that he’ll be arrested as soon as their plane lands. But… I just don’t feel safe continuing the rest of the season,” she explained, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions, shifting from steady determination to a raw vulnerability.

“Wynter, my brave girl, you witnessed firsthand how your team has your back. You are stronger than you realize, my beautiful wolf. If you feel the need to step away from this situation, you absolutely have every right to do so. Just remember that all of Texas stands ready to protect you. I love you, and I wish I could wrap my arms around you right now, but I need to return to the car; they’ve cleared the crash site, and the race is resuming soon. I’ll call you as soon as I can, I promise. I love you, babe.” His words radiated warmth and reassurance, a lifeline amidst her turmoil.

“I love you too, Jake. Thank you for being there for me; I really needed to hear your voice,” Wynter replied, her tone slightly lifting, a flicker of hope replacing some of the clouds of despair. As they hung up, a small, genuine smile broke through her tears, the thought of his unwavering support bringing her a measure of comfort. Meanwhile, in the vibrancy of Monaco, Jake gently placed the phone down, taking a deep breath infused with the scents of the ocean mingling with burning rubber, and steadied himself. With determination coursing through his veins, he strode back to the cockpit of his RB21, ready to confront the challenges that awaited him on the track.

Chapter Text

"Alright, mate, there are only 12 cars on the grid, so we're in for 30 exhilarating minutes of fast-paced racing," Jake's race director, Hugh, announced with an air of anticipation. "You've got the soft tires fitted, so tread carefully with your pacing; they tend to wear out quickly on this circuit," he cautioned just as the lights flickered and then extinguished, signaling the restart.

"Okay, let's get this done," Jake murmured to himself, adrenaline surging as he bolted off the grid. He was closely followed by the formidable Max Verstappen, the determined Yuki Tsunoda, the ambitious Liam Lawson, and the strategic Carlos Sainz, all jostling for position amidst the thrilling cacophony of roaring engines and screeching tires. As they surged through the iconic Casino Straight, the leaderboard shifted, with Jake leading, closely chased by Max, Carlos, Yuki, and Liam. However, chaos would soon ensue when the Kick-Sauber of Nico Hulkenberg was brutally slammed into a wall by Alex Albon's Williams, triggering a safety car and forcing the racers to return to the pits under the procedures of Monaco.

"Well... we can't even have a restart," Max grumbled, frustration evident in his voice that cut through the tension. "I don't think anyone's getting points; we barely had two laps under green flag conditions." George interjected, as Jake instinctively face-palmed in disbelief. "This is the second race this year we've had to endure this mess. I understand Silverstone was a safety concern, but this is utter chaos," Max lamented, just as an FIA official stepped into the room, bringing with him an air of finality.

"As dictated by the rules established in 2022 and subsequently revised during the Japan Grand Prix that same year, the atmosphere shifted dramatically when the FIA official monotonously read from a printed script, his voice cutting through the silence like a knife. 'There will be no points or podium ceremony for this race, as there were fewer than two laps completed under green flag conditions.' He set down a portable scale with a dull thud, the sound echoing ominously in the tense air. 'Drivers who managed to compete in the restart are required to weigh in now, as part of the official end-of-session protocol. Your cooperation will be greatly appreciated.'

The weight of those words settled heavily upon everyone present, turning the thrill of the race into a sobering confrontation with the harsh realities of regulation.

For the next ten minutes, the paddock seemed to hold its breath as drivers approached the scale one by one, their expressions a mix of resignation and disbelief. The official diligently made notes of each driver's weight, in stark contrast to the vibrant energy that had defined the race just moments before. When their turn came to speak, the drivers retreated to the media pit for interviews, their minds still racing with the echoes of the competition.

But Jake, sensing the need for solitude, slipped away to his driver privacy room. He needed to call Wynter, keeping the promise he had made to her after her unsettling incident in Texas, the weight of his concern pressing against him like an unseen force.

Chapter Text

Once Jake finally stepped into the sanctuary of his driver privacy room, a small yet cozy space adorned with soft lighting and plush seating, he eagerly dialed Wynter’s number, keeping the promise he had made to her before the race restart.

“Hey, baby girl,” he said, his voice warm and seductive, wrapping around the words like a gentle embrace. As soon as Wynter picked up, a hint of brightness flickered in her tone. “Hey, Jake,” she replied, her voice a mix of familiarity and underlying sorrow as a fragile smile began to illuminate her tear-stained face. However, Jake’s perceptive nature quickly caught the tremor of sadness that threaded through her words. “Whoa, tell me what’s going on—why are you crying?” he asked, his concern palpable and soothing.

Wynter took a shaky breath, her heart heavy yet filled with memories. “It’s nothing, really,” she responded, though her voice was thick with emotion. “I was watching my high school highlight reel—all those vibrant memories flooded back. I realized just how much I miss everyone. Even the Aliens—believe me, I don’t have the best feelings toward them—but when they returned and introduced Addison to the pack, and those early days when wolf-kind was first accepted… those were pivotal moments. It's the small, fleeting moments that tug at my heartstrings and remind me how much I long for the past.” A wistful smile briefly danced on her lips, a glimpse of the joy mingled with her nostalgia.

“Y’know,” Jake began thoughtfully, “maybe you could turn those feelings into a music album. I can share a few ideas that have been swirling in my mind.” His voice resonated with an air of nostalgia, evoking vivid memories and shared experiences that connected them.

Wynter’s eyes flickered with a spark of interest. “I would love that. Ever since the night I watched Addie receive those diamond album awards, I’ve been feeling this pang of jealousy. It would be tough to pick up my guitar again, though. The last song I wrote was 'The New Kid in Town,' back in 2020,” she confessed, a hint of apprehension shadowing her features as she reflected on her musical journey and uncertainty about her skills.

"I remember that moment vividly," Jake said, a hint of uncertainty weaving through his voice. "But I never got the chance to ask—was it about me?" His question hung in the air, and even though Wynter was out of sight, he could almost sense her blush radiating warmth.

"Yes, yes, it was indeed about you," she replied, her voice soft yet filled with intensity. "I knew long before you ever found the courage to tell me, and honestly, it drove me absolutely crazy. Every single day, you invaded my dreams with your caring spirit and that charming smile that could light up the darkest of rooms," Wynter recalled, her sigh heavy with nostalgia, as the bittersweet memories of their high school days flooded back.

Jake leaned back, running a hand through his hair as he remembered those times. "I kept seeing you in my dreams as well. It felt like the universe was conspiring to bring us together. But, truth be told, I didn’t know how to voice my feelings. I didn’t want to pull you into the chaotic whirlwind of the F3 and F2 schedules I was juggling. So, I let those feelings drift aimlessly until a few months ago," he admitted, regret swimming in his darkening eyes.

Wynter smiled gently, the corners of her lips curling up with understanding. "It's okay, because you have me now, and I completely understand that," she reassured him, her voice a soothing balm. "I just wish I had you back in high school. Being the only non-mated wolf in the pack felt isolating at times," she confessed, pulling out a well-worn notebook—the pages filled with the musings of a dreamer. She opened it, revealing messy lyrics and ideas that had swirled in her mind, waiting for the right moment to take shape.

"For my first song, I envisioned something catchy yet distinct, something that would resonate," Wynter mused, tapping her pen thoughtfully against her chin, a habit she had developed over the years. Jake, on the other side of the call, mirrored her gesture, lost in the atmosphere of Monaco, where the sun dipped low, casting a golden glow around him.

"I've got a little idea brewing, and I think you’ll really dig it," Jake stated, excitement bubbling beneath the surface. Wynter leaned in, her interest piqued. "Okay, spill it! I want to hear what you're thinking!" she exclaimed, her voice tinged with eagerness.

With careful thought, Jake began to recite his lyrics, each word laced with emotion: "You wanted control, so we waited. I put on a show, now I make it. You say I’m a kid, my ego is big, I don’t give a shit, and it goes like this."

Wynter felt a spark ignite within her as she processed his words, the rhythm already weaving in her mind. She continued where he left off, her voice growing with fervor. "Take me by the tongue, and I'll know you. Kiss me 'til you're drunk, and I'll show you all the moves like jagger."

"YES! I adore it!" Wynter exclaimed, her eyes shining with inspiration, the possibilities rushing through her. "I can build on that—I’m so excited! I’ll call you back once I’ve crafted the full song. Thank you so much for your help, baby. Now go and enjoy the rest of your time soaking in the vibrant energy of Monaco," she said joyfully, her spirits soaring with creativity as she bid him farewell.

"Well, I'm glad to hear it. Goodbye, Wyn. Love you," Jake replied, warmth filling his heart as he hung up. Stepping outside the bustling paddock, he took in the lively atmosphere surrounding him—the sounds of laughter, the scent of fresh pastries from nearby cafés, and the sight of yachts gliding across the azure waters of the Mediterranean. He made his way back to Max’s house, where he was staying for the weekend.

Chapter Text

"Hey there! I know you’re just about to board your flight to Saudi Arabia, but I thought you’d want to hear the exciting news—I’ve finished writing and producing the song we’ve been working on," Wynter said with infectious enthusiasm, her voice bubbling over the phone as Jake answered.

"Absolutely, love! Is it 'Moves Like Jagger,' or have you crafted something new since we last brainstormed?" Jake asked, his curiosity piqued.

Wynter flashed a bright smile, her fingers instinctively tapping to an unheard rhythm. "You know me—I'm on a creative high! I might even whip up another one while you're in the air. But for now, yes, it’s 'Moves Like Jagger,'" she replied, her voice tinged with excitement.

"Alright, baby, I can’t wait to hear it!" Jake exclaimed.

With Jake's eager words lingering in her ears, Wynter turned on the beat in the background, feeling the pulse of the music course through her. She tuned her guitar, the notes ringing clear and bright, before she confidently began to sing the lyrics she'd poured her heart into.
"Just shoot for the stars, if it feels right, then aim for my heart, if you feel like, and take me away, and make it okay, I swear I'll behave, you wanted control, so we waited, I put on a show, now I'm naked, you say I'm a kid, my ego is big, I don't give a shit, And it goes like this,

Take me by the tongue and I'll know you, kiss me 'till your drunk and I'll show you, you want the moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I don't need to try to control you, look into my eyes and I'll own you, with them moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger

Maybe it's hard, when you feel like, you're broken and scarred, nothing feels right, but when you're with me, I'll make you believe, that I've got the key, oh, so get in the car, we can ride it, wherever you want, get inside it, and you wanna steer, but I'm shifting gears, I'll take it from here, and it goes like this

Take me by the tongue and I'll know you, kiss me 'till your drunk and I'll show you, you want the moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I don't need to try to control you, look into my eyes and I'll own you, you want the moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger, I've got them moves like jagger."

As she concluded her performance, a wave of exhilaration washed over her, leaving her breathless. She paused for a moment, taking a refreshing sip of water to regain her composure. Across the room, Jake’s eyes sparkled with admiration.

“Wow, babe! That was absolutely extraordinary!” he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “You crafted all of that magic from just one paragraph we brainstormed? That’s nothing short of phenomenal! You need to find someone in Texas who can blast that onto Apple Music, Spotify, and even the radio. It was perfect, and I truly believe everyone deserves to hear your incredible talent!” Jake exclaimed, overjoyed at Wynter's musical greatness.

"Okay, baby, I have to go now, the flight's boarding in a few minutes. I love you, I'll see you in a few weeks." jake stated remorsfully as he had to hang-up the call to Wynter. "Alright Jake. Call me when you land, I'm a little bit of a nervous wreck when your in the air." Wynter stated as she and Jake hung up the phone.

Chapter Text

As the plane smoothly descended, gliding over the sun-kissed landscapes of Saudi Arabia, its wheels finally touched the warm tarmac, signaling their arrival in a land brimming with history and tradition. Max, Jake, and Willa disembarked from the aircraft, the air rich with the scent of spices mingling with the faint aroma of desert flora. They stepped into the vibrant atmosphere of the bustling airport, filled with travelers' chatter and the echoes of rolling luggage.

Leading them toward the main lounge, Max's demeanor shifted to one of seriousness as he prepared to explain some essential cultural considerations that the Seabrook duo might not be entirely familiar with.

“Welcome to Saudi Arabia. Undeniably, this country is stunning, with its golden dunes and skyscrapers that pierce the sky. However, you need to be mindful of some important laws that govern daily life here. Willa,” he said, turning to face her, “the dress code for women is quite strict. You won’t need to adopt traditional attire completely, but I hope you packed some comfortable sweatpants and long-sleeve tops. Locals prefer for women to keep their shoulders and knees covered—modesty is paramount here. Also, when taking photos, be very cautious; capturing someone else in your image could be seen as a violation of their privacy, and you don’t want to inadvertently offend anyone. Finally, remember that alcohol and pork are strictly prohibited; indulging in either is against their religious beliefs.” With that, he handed Willa a soft, oversized hoodie and a pair of loose sweatpants, the fabric warm and inviting against the cool air of the airport.

“That’s quite an adjustment, but since we’re just guests here, I’ll do my best to fit in,” Willa replied, a hint of determination in her voice. “If you could keep an eye on me for a moment, I need to call Wynter. I promised I'd reach out once we landed,” Jake said, already making his way to a quieter corner of the terminal, his phone poised for connection. “Yeah, go ahead; I’ll be right here,” Max said, leaning against a sleek, polished wall, his focus returning to the brilliant screen of his phone as he browsed for news.

While Jake dialed Wynter and Willa transformed into her more conservative outfit, Max's eyes locked onto a headline that leaped from his screen and piqued his interest. Eager to share it, he quickly sent a message to Jake and the rest of their group chat, announcing: "F1 to race in Austria twice and Vegas twice to make up for the no-count finishes of Silverstone and Monaco."

@mv1: @espnf1: "F1 to race in Austria twice and Vegas twice to make up for the no-count finishes of Silverstone and Monaco."
@op81: That’s not surprising, but seriously, why Vegas? Doesn't seem like anyone enjoys that track.
@ll30: True, but you have to remember that Vegas sold the most tickets last year—it’s a big deal.
@cl16: I guess it makes sense, especially since Max was poised to win the world championship there.
@ln4: Either way, I’m just relieved that a drain cover doesn’t come loose and deliver me another 45G hit like before.
@jc95: Guys, enough arguing, seriously. I’m just glad we get the chance to reclaim those points!
@mv1: Agreed! Anyway, see you all at the paddock.

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Once Willa stepped out of the restroom, her outfit now more in line with local customs, the trio headed along the sun-dappled path toward the charming villa they had rented for the weekend. Just a brief three-minute walk from the airport, it was a delightful respite adorned with lush gardens bursting with color and a scenic bike path that meandered toward the nearby race circuit, where the thrill of Formula 1 awaited.

“So, Willa, have you had a chance to listen to Wynter's new song yet?” Jake asked, a friendly smile gracing his face as they approached the entrance to their temporary home. “I have! It’s wonderful to hear her back on the guitar. She really is incredibly talented,” Willa replied, her eyes alight with enthusiasm. She placed her backpack down in the cozy bedroom they would share, the walls adorned with vibrant tapestries and art pieces that reflected the rich tapestry of their surroundings—a perfect blend of comfort and culture that promised to make their stay memorable.

Chapter Text

As the fiery sun descended below the horizon, it painted the sky in brilliant shades of orange and pink, casting a warm glow over the bustling Jeddah street course. The air buzzed with the thrilling symphony of roaring engines and the unmistakable scent of burning rubber, heightening the electric atmosphere in the Red Bull racing garage. Amidst this vibrant backdrop, a long-buried conflict brewed, as a familiar and unwelcome figure from Willa's past resurfaced, threatening to disrupt her fragile happiness.

“Hello, son... What on earth are you doing still involved with her?” Jos’s voice rang out like thunder, cutting through the hubbub with a sharp, accusatory tone that reverberated off the polished metal walls of the garage. Max Verstappen stepped into the fray, his brow furrowed, caught between the tension generated by his father’s demands. Just a few feet away, Jake was engaged in a tense standoff with stern-looking sporting officials, who hovered around his car, scrutinizing it like hawks. “What are they doing here? Our car is perfectly legal; we’ve adhered to every regulation!” he protested, frustration spilling over as he gestured toward his car, sleek and vibrant in its racing livery.

As Jos continued his relentless interrogation, each word laced with disappointment, and Jake argued vehemently with the officials, Willa felt the weight of the chaos pressing down on her. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she quietly slipped away, seeking refuge from the storm of accusations and tensions. But as she turned a corner, she suddenly collided with VCARB driver Yuki Tsunoda, who was briskly making his way toward the shared motorhome, his expression shifting from surprise to concern.

“Ah, Willa! How’s life on the road with Verstappen treating you?” Yuki asked, his voice warm and inviting as he guided her toward a nearby seat designed for comfort amidst the racing chaos. "Please, sit down... You look like you need an ear."

Willa, her eyes brimming with tears that threatened to spill over, sank into the chair he had pulled out for her, the soft fabric offering a momentary comfort. “It’s been nice, I suppose,” she sniffled, the corners of her mouth quivering, “but it would be even better if Jos weren’t relentlessly pursuing me for just being myself… *sniffles* I don’t know what to do anymore…” Her voice trailed off, her carefully maintained facade crumbling under the weight of her feelings, tears cascading down her cheeks as she finally allowed herself to be vulnerable.

“Listen, try to disregard the older Verstappen as much as you can,” Yuki advised, his tone soothing, like a gentle balm against her anxiety. “There’s a good chance he won’t even be here for tomorrow’s race. The local police and military will be securing the area, and that warrant still looms over him like a dark cloud," he reassured her with a mix of understanding and empathy. "Just take shelter here for a while. I’ll go find Max and let him know you’re safe. In the meantime, eat something. You need to keep your strength up, all right?” His words wrapped around her like a protective shield before he dashed off to prepare for his qualifying lap. Willa managed a small, appreciative nod, watching him depart the motorhome, her heart swirling with both gratitude and uncertainty as she sought solace in the moment.

Chapter Text

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@12thmanfootball- It was a tough game to kick off in-conference play yesterday, but the Aggies dominated the Bounce House, defeating the #13 UCF Knights in a closely contested defensive battle, with a final score of 13-12. @thyrealwbark played a crucial role in keeping the defense strong, scoring on an interception return and blocking the game-deciding field goal attempt, as well as two PATs by Grant Reddick. Barkowitz also scored our only offensive touchdown. Freshman Reed shone in his debut, stepping in after Connor Weighman left the game due to injury. Reed completed 13 of 20 passes for 147 yards and one touchdown. Barkowitz gained 260 yards for our offense.
-- @jc95: That’s just how it’s done! I wish I could have witnessed the excitement firsthand. Wynter, you truly shined out there—brilliant performance!!
-- @thyrealwbark: Awooo!! The same goes for you, Jake! I’m cozily settled on the couch, adrenaline pumping in anticipation of the race. Good luck, my love!
-- @barkocarterstan9522: Wow... witnessing the best sporting couple in action is simply thrilling!
-- @mv1: Let’s not go down that path, okay?

- @princessofhearts: @f1, @queenmal, @kingben, @princesscharming, and I, along with a group of our most trusted Auradon officials, are thrilled to announce that the Auradon Grand Prix is all set to unfold! We can't wait to see everyone in just two months for this spectacular event!
- @f1: We're beyond excited! 🥳
- @ll30: This is fantastic news, your majesty! Congratulations! Can't wait to see you all soon!
- @princessofhearts: No need for all that formality, Liam! But I share your excitement; I truly can't wait!
----

The Saudi paddock buzzed with a palpable tension as news broke that Auradon had reinserted itself into the racing scene, abruptly halting the much-anticipated double race setup in Austria. Experts, team members, and personnel were left in a whirlwind of confusion, speculating whether a second race would indeed be confirmed to avoid a repeat of the double setup in Vegas.

“Max, have you heard the latest?” Oscar shouted, his voice cutting through the din as he approached the Red Bull duo with an infectious eagerness. Max instinctively covered his mouth, wary of the prying media, before leaning in to reply, “Yeah, sorry to hear about Lando; he’s not coming back this year, is he?” Just then, Jake playfully tapped Max on the arm, smirking with camaraderie. “No, no! I think he’s talking about Auradon! I can’t wait to reconnect with Red and the crew!”

At that moment, McLaren’s third driver, Logan Sargent, strolled into their lively conversation, his brow furrowed in curiosity about the two teams chitchatting before the national anthem. “Again? You’ve met these royals before?” he inquired, a hint of surprise in his tone. “Absolutely! They’re close friends and huge supporters of Wynter's college team, so I’ve had the chance to get to know them pretty well,” Jake explained, extending a handshake to Logan as they met for the first time.

“I’ve seen her play, and she’s exceptional! I really hope I can catch a game when we race in Austin,” Logan said, his voice filled with admiration as he recalled her skills on the field.

Carter chimed in with enthusiasm, “I can definitely get you some tickets. I’m a big donor for the athletic programs at Texas A&M, and they’re playing the Longhorns that weekend.” He smiled, already envisioning a budding friendship with the second American on the grid.

As the last notes of the national anthem faded into the night, an electric tension filled the air. The drivers, a mix of seasoned veterans and eager newcomers, slid into the plush interiors of their high-powered machines, the scent of burning rubber and fuel swirling around them. As the lights above the Jeddah Circuit flickered out one by one like stars being snuffed out, the roar of engines erupted, signaling the beginning of an intense 56-lap battle under the dazzling lights of the city. Logan, fueled by adrenaline and fierce determination, expertly threaded his way between the two formidable Red Bulls, his heart racing as he pursued the dream of his first-ever victory in Formula 1.

Approaching lap 48, the race took a dramatic turn. The safety car was deployed when Oliver Bearman miscalculated the tight confines of the circuit, slamming into the unforgiving wall. The impact was jarring, ripping off his front wing and shattering his suspension, leaving his rear-right wheel abandoned on the track like a forgotten relic. Seizing the moment, Jake and Logan dove into the pit lane, the intoxicating smell of fresh rubber greeting them as they switched to a set of soft tires. They geared up for a treacherous three-lap showdown, anxious for the safety car to peel away and unleash them into the fray. However, the expected green light was delayed when Franco Colapinto’s Alpine came to a standstill, smoke curling from its engine near a marshall post dominated by a towering crane, adding to the mounting tension.

"Alright, Sarge. Let’s see what you’ve got, kid…” Jake whispered to himself, determination coursing through his veins as he unleashed a blistering charge toward the McLaren, flooring the throttle as they approached turn 4. The world around them blurred into a vivid landscape of flashing lights and roaring engines, as they surged through the circuit. Time seemed to stretch as they navigated towards turn 25, where an exhilarating confrontation unfolded, both drivers pushing their machines to the limit, each vying for that coveted first-place spot until they crossed the finish line simultaneously in a heart-stopping moment of suspense.

As the cooldown lap concluded, Logan and Jake climbed out of their cars, the adrenaline still racing through their bodies, their breaths heavy and quick. The uncertainty of who had emerged victorious hung in the air like a dense fog, thick with anticipation. They were soon instructed to proceed to the cooldown room, where the reigning champion, Verstappen, lounged, seemingly unfazed, as he replayed the highlights of another gripping race. The atmosphere was charged with exhilaration, the excitement yet to unfold as they awaited the official results.