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🕑 Added 2025-05-25 05:55:01 +0000 UTCTo expand F1’s market share, entering the U.S. market is essential.
It’s an undeniable fact that Olivia would play a pivotal role in boosting its popularity.
Even so, I couldn’t shake off a strange reluctance.
Asking her to appear in a documentary seemed reasonable enough.
But recruiting her as a real driver was a different matter entirely.
I soon turned my gaze back to the track.
Shoo—wooo—oong!
Olivia’s car shot forward with incredible momentum.
However, after 40 laps, its speed began to noticeably decline.
Her lap time increased by a full two seconds.
In motorsports, two seconds is the difference between first place and last place.
It was an utterly unacceptable drop in performance.
Perhaps to make up for it, Olivia pushed harder to accelerate.
“……!”
Her brake timing was late, causing the rear wheels to skid.
Fortunately, she countersteered in the opposite direction just in time.
Otherwise, it could have led to an accident.
If this had been an actual race—
If someone had been racing alongside her—
Even a minor mistake like that could have had catastrophic consequences.
Though she has top-tier records, there’s a reason she’s still in F3.
“She’s experiencing severe fatigue.”
Dmitri, seated beside me, voiced a similar opinion.
“Losing focus during the final moments of a race, the most crucial time, is a bit……”
Beyond skill, this is a safety issue.
No matter how much money is on the line—
Knowing full well that her concentration plummets in the later stages, I couldn’t, in good conscience, encourage her to race.
‘Right, there’s such a thing as moderation.’
I silently nodded in agreement.
***
‘Just a little more. Just a little more.’
At that moment, the rear wheels lost their grip.
Although she countersteered in the opposite direction, the car wouldn’t respond.
Thanks to the wide track, she narrowly avoided an accident.
‘Damn it.’
She had worked so hard to compensate for her lack of stamina.
She’d trained far harder than anyone else.
Did she really have to falter because she was a woman?
The thought was so infuriating that she could hardly stand it.
The days when her efforts were doubted simply because she was the daughter of a celebrity.
The times she had to flee to England to escape misunderstandings and jealousy.
It wasn’t as if she had chosen her parents.
Why did the world always glare at her with such sharp eyes?
Just as those wounds began to heal, now this…
She didn’t want to deny that there were differences.
But the fact that those differences were so hard to overcome despite her efforts was devastating.
‘Damn it!’
A mistake severe enough to take her off the track.
It was practically a ruined race.
And yet—
Vroooom!
She pressed the accelerator again.
‘I’ll finish the race.’
Even if her record was a mess, she refused to leave as a loser.
As long as the wheels kept turning, she would give it her all until the very end.
Vroooooom!
‘My training wasn’t enough.’
Olivia steeled herself once more.
Yes, it’s not just because of physical differences.
‘If I increase my overall training volume, I’ll overcome this someday.’
Moments later, she faced the section of the track where she had made her mistake.
Thump. Thump.
Was the excitement of the near-accident still lingering?
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Her pounding heart compelled her to move her foot toward the brake.
A chill ran down her spine.
‘If I make the same mistake as before, it’s over.’
Why not just brake earlier in that case?
‘How foolish!’
Is that what makes a racer?
Facing fear head-on and pressing the accelerator until the very last moment—that’s what a real racer does, right?
She immediately moved her foot to the accelerator.
Vrooooom!
She pushed the acceleration to its limit.
A sharp corner appeared just ahead.
Her heart pounded, urging her to brake immediately.
It felt like being underwater, desperate to break through to the surface for air.
But once again, she gritted her teeth and endured.
Just a little more.
Just a tiny bit more.
At the very last moment, when she had pushed herself to the limit—
‘Now!’
She applied full braking.
The car wobbled.
Would she lose grip again, causing the rear wheels to spin out?
‘No way! I’ve worked so hard for this very moment!’
And then—
Shoo-woong!
Her car exited the corner with astonishing grace.
Haa. Haaa.
It felt as though all the breaths she had been holding in exploded out at once.
But that reaction lasted only a moment.
She quickly reminded herself it was too early to celebrate and kept pressing the accelerator.
Vroooooom!
Roughly five minutes later—
Flap! Flap!
Flags waved, signaling the end of the race.
After completing the race, Olivia entered the pit and immediately checked her lap times.
A personal best.
What was particularly remarkable was that her faltering pace had recovered in the latter part of the race.
“Phew. Phew…”
As she removed her sweat-soaked helmet, she quietly reflected.
The corner where she had made a mistake.
Just looking at that section had once made her heart race with fear, but she had ultimately conquered it beautifully.
The once-terrifying sharp corner—
Now it had become her trophy of victory.
Sure enough, a voice came through her helmet’s transmitter.
(That was an excellent race.)
“……”
(Sweat never betrays effort, after all.)
If she hadn’t trained relentlessly, could she have overcome that corner?
Could sheer willpower alone have achieved that?
‘No, absolutely not.’
That realization sent shivers down her spine.
If physical differences between men and women meant differences in the results of their efforts—
Then she would simply acknowledge that difference and work several times harder.
That was the conclusion Olivia reached today.
Just then—
(Olivia, could you come up here for a moment?)
Her coach said something unexpected.
(Your friend is here to see you.)
***
Step, step.
Olivia entered the café with a bare face, free of makeup.
She had half-unzipped her racing suit, letting the straps dangle like loose overalls.
Her body was drenched in sweat.
She fanned herself with her hand as she walked toward me.
“How did you know to come here?”
“Good question.”
“I look like a mess. It’s kind of embarrassing.”
“Not at all.”
I ordered a drink for her first.
She must have been exhausted; she ordered a sports drink, iced coffee, and ice cream all at once.
“After finishing a race, I’m completely drained.”
How could she not be?
She had been driving at over 200 kilometers per hour for more than an hour.
She must have been pushed to her physical and mental limits.
Of course, she needed to replenish her energy.
I waited patiently as she ate her ice cream.
Nom nom.
She drove so wildly.
Yet now she was nibbling away like a squirrel.
Maybe she was finally starting to relax.
Leaning back in her chair, she asked, “Be honest. Why did you come all the way to the circuit?”
“Do I need a reason to come?”
“As if you’d come without one.”
She had a point. Ahem.
“Well, I’ve recently taken an interest in F1.”
“F1?”
“Yeah. I’m thinking of acquiring a team. The U.S. market seems pretty small, you know.”
At my words, she let out a small sigh.
“You’re right. There’s barely any interest in F1 here.”
“That’s why I thought I’d try to create some buzz around it…”
I briefly explained my plan to produce a documentary.
“So, you want me to appear in the documentary? For the U.S. market?”
I nodded.
That was all I wanted to ask of her.
But then—
“Which team are you thinking of acquiring?”
Olivia’s curiosity wouldn’t let it go.
“If possible, well…”
“Ferrari?”
Huh? How did she know?
“It seems like it.”
“……?”
“You’re the type who’s never satisfied with anything less than the best.”
“Me?”
“You didn’t know?”
Well, anyway.
“And you’re planning to recruit only the best drivers too, right?”
“Of course.”
“Do you have someone in mind?”
“I do.”
“Is it a secret?”
“Of course.”
“I figured as much.”
She gave a sly smile before adding, “I’m planning to challenge F2 this year.”
“F2? I heard you have to bet your whole life on it.”
“I will. What’s so great about my life, anyway?”
Whoa.
Olivia was as bold as ever.
She continued, her smile never fading.
“This actually works out perfectly.”
“What does?”
“Getting an F1 seat is like reaching for the stars. There are thousands of drivers, but only 20 seats.”
“……?”
“So I’ll work my butt off and take advantage of having a friend in high places. If my skills are the same, you’ll pick me, right? Don’t you think?”
Olivia’s eyes sparkled so brightly—
“Maybe.”
I ended up saying something I didn’t even mean.
Not that it was entirely untrue.
With her American nationality, dazzling background, and striking looks, who wouldn’t choose Olivia if her skills were comparable?
Of course, that was assuming her abilities measured up.
At that moment, I was convinced I’d only work with Olivia on the documentary.
I had no idea just how relentless Olivia could be.
***
We even met all the way in New York.
Thanks to that, we decided to have dinner together.
After showering, Olivia came out in casual clothes.
A black T-shirt with the logo of the rock band Metallica.
Leather pants and black boots to complete the look.
“You could model for an ad.”
“For what? Mad Bull?”
No, Gomhartz…
Actually, she would be the perfect model for Gomhartz.
I heard it’s gaining significant popularity in the U.S. these days.
Maybe we should place an ad in line with Fashion Week?
“Nah, never mind.”
“Huh?”
“My dad runs a fashion brand. It’d be a bit much for his daughter to model for another brand.”
“So what?”
“……?”
“Besides, you’re the largest shareholder, aren’t you?”
She nodded.
“Then who cares?”
“Why?”
“My dad likes you.”
I don’t know why, but I seem to be a hit with the older crowd…
Anyway.
We headed to a famous steakhouse in New York.
Maybe because it’s America, they sell beef by the kilogram.
Judging by the steep prices, it must be pretty good.
While waiting for our food, we caught up on conversations we’d missed.
Since Dmitri was with us, most of the talk revolved around cars, a shared interest.
“Thanks to Mr. Tennessee, I got to drive a race car once. After about ten laps, I was completely wiped out.”
“It’s always like that at first. But if you train systematically, it gets much easier.”
“Well, I’m a bit too old to start training now…”
When Dmitri joked, Olivia laughed and looked over at me.
“Have you ever driven?”
“No, I don’t have a license yet.”
“If you complete training and have a professional co-driver, you can. Of course, only on a circuit.”
A circuit, huh.
In my past life, I had a license.
I didn’t drive much since I didn’t own a car, but I did enjoy it.
I particularly liked manual cars, which most people avoided for being inconvenient.
They were cheaper to rent and more fun to drive.
Despite my love for cars, being underage kept me from doing much more than drooling over the Bugatti in the garage.
What?
You mean I can drive just by taking some training?
“Not just race cars—regular cars too?”
“Of course.”
“Sports cars too?”
She nodded.
“How much training would I need?”
“It depends on the instructor. If you learn from me, it’ll take less than two hours.”
Huh? Learning from you?
“What’s with that look? I’m an F3 racer. Of course, I have an instructor’s license.”
“Then… having a professional co-driver—”
“I’m enough.”
Oh, really?
I don’t have my car here in the U.S., but—
‘How can someone planning to acquire Ferrari not own a single Ferrari?’
Maybe I should buy one while I’m at it…
Just then—
“My dad has a garage nearby. Want to check it out?”
Olivia made an unexpected suggestion.
