My Formula 1 System

Luca stole the spotlight on Sunday. After arriving at the circuit with his family, Luca left them in a three-star suite before he left to meet up with a few Trampos fans that came to attend the F1 race.

Luca decided to make up for not engaging with them after the race, so he spent a lot of time taking photos with an umbrella under the soft drizzle.

Around then did the influx of people intensify and Circuit du Soleil was gradually filling to capacity in anticipation of the evening race.

Although the day was about Formula 1, any individual still worthy of being questioned by the press was rushed to, and Luca found himself being fast-interviewed by F1 microphones and not F2 microphones.

In the tunnel, Luca had the honor of meeting Sam Hamilton, who had just arrived and was preparing to head toward his commentary booth up at the gantry.

Sam, with his polished British accent, greeted Luca warmly, embracing him with poise and introducing him to other personnel in his company.

They shared a light moment as cameras clicked away, capturing a gallery of photos. Shortly after, Sam and his team ascended to the top of the stands, where an official announcement welcomed everyone to the final Grand Prix of the season.

As the excitement built, a standing ovation erupted for Marco Rossi, the retiring legend whose presence electrified the circuit.

Luca scanned the area past the track, searching for Rossi, and eventually spotted him waving gracefully to the cheering crowd from the glass room perched above Jackson Racing's garage.

Definitely loyal forever.

In his private suite, Luca was taken aback to see another F2 driver present to watch the race. It was none other than Peter De Klerk, Hatcherk Motorsport's standout driver and teammate to Sean Aaronson.

The two competitors greeted each other with mutual respect, extending polite introductions to their families.

Unlike Luca, who sported a casual Trampos team-branded shirt and cargo pants, De Klerk stood out in a sharp, dark navy suit that radiated professionalism.

The double-breasted suit was impeccably tailored, mirroring the elegance of his wife, who wore an identical outfit in a feminine cut.

Even their children—a boy and a girl—were dressed in matching ensembles, completing the polished family appearance.

Luca found it hard to believe he was sharing the F2 grid with someone who balanced the life of a family man alongside his racing career!

After Luca introduced his own family in return, everyone settled into their seats.

Sophia suggested Luca sat in the middle of her and their mother, but Luca refused. He told them to sit to his right while he reserved the seat on his left for someone else.

It wasn't Sara nor was it Mallow. It was Adrian Hawthorne—Mrs. Hawthorne's first son.

Since July, Luca and Adrian had gradually begun to get to know each other beyond Luca's role as the ambassador for Hawthorne in Formula racing.

At first, Luca had been hesitant. He couldn't imagine what he and Adrian might have in common. Adrian was born into wealth and privilege, his entire life surrounded by opulence. Luca figured their conversations would inevitably revolve around grandiose topics, leaving him feeling underwhelming in comparison.

Yet, Adrian's persistence eventually broke through Luca's reservations, and today seemed like a good opportunity for them to hang out.

Mrs. Hawthorne was in Paris, but for reasons unknown, she wasn't attending the race in Le Castellet. Adrian, however, had made the effort. Taking a short break from school, he flew from Paris to Le Castellet to watch Luca race under the rain and secure victory. Now, he was here to enjoy the F1 battle alongside him.

At 21 years old, Adrian carried himself with a youthful charm. Though he looked younger, his lean frame and poised demeanor hinted at refinement, while his posture suggested he was used to attention. He studied at a far more prestigious university than Isabella's—a fitting institution for someone of his background.

Perhaps because he was still in school, Adrian hadn't yet begun engaging in Hawthorne's business ventures. Luca had observed that in other dynasties, young men at 21 were often already deeply involved in family affairs.

A three-star suite overlooking Turn 10, positioned just beside Turn 11 with a clear view of the rolling valleys, wasn't a bad spot at all. As Adrian stepped inside, all eyes naturally gravitated toward him. With his usual air of confidence, he scanned the room, quickly spotting Luca. He gave a regal wave before making his way over.

Luca, leaning against the suite's railing with a casual posture, nodded in greeting as Adrian approached. The timing was perfect as the grid announcement was about to begin.

"... welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Formula 1 French Grand Prix!"

"WOOOOHH!"

The suite quieted, everyone focusing on the screen as the lineup was revealed.

P1—Hank Rice

P2—Alejandro Vasquez

P3—Jimmy Damgaard

P4—Antonio Luigi

P5—Marcellus Rodnick

P6—Elias Nyström

P7—Marko Ignatova

P8—Mikhail Petrov

P9—Luis Dreyer

P10—Davide DiMarco

Formula 1 grid lineups were always fiercely competitive, which made it all the more puzzling for Luca to see a Bueseno Velocità driver starting at P10.

P10 wasn't necessarily a bad position—given the level of competition, it was respectable. But considering that a team like RMC Grand Prix, with its comparatively weaker chassis technology, had managed to place a driver higher on the grid than a Velocità driver, it was surprising.
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The announcement of the final few drivers on the grid rippled through the suite and the grandstands, triggering scattered applause and murmurs of approval.

"...Drivers, please report to your cars. The engines will be rolled out in five minutes!"

Luca chatted with Adrian until the cars were rolled out to the grid, each driver taking their respective positions under their team's livery.

The drizzle had stopped, though occasional drops of water still sliced through the sky. The track glistened under the faint moisture, but it was nowhere near as treacherous as the conditions Formula 2 had endured on Saturday.

One by one, all five red lights illuminated, and Luca could hear the deafening symphony of A-level engines roaring to life.