Santi shifts his weight from foot to foot. A signal that he wants to get going, since we need to pack and get ready to travel to the next stop in the Prix. Blame the busy schedule and long flights.
“We’ll see you in Bahrain. Maya and I head out tomorrow morning on an early flight. We better get going because we need to pack and everything.” Santi runs a fidgety hand through his hair. He loves to pack three days before his flight ever leaves, so it must eat him alive to have put it off this long.
“Man, you’ll have to come on my private jet next time. Maybe we can shift around a few flights so you both can join.” Liam’s eyes sparkle as he pulls the slick move. He has this Devil Disguised as an Angel kind of look, with blonde hair, baby blues, and beaming white teeth. Although his exterior screams innocent, his eyes say everything but.
I give him a small smile in return, highly doubting that his invitation to fly in his jet has much to do with my brother. Probably has a lot more to do with me. Santi doesn’t notice Liam’s flirting, shocking since he bothered me all weekend about how these guys are after two things only: trophies and ladies. And preferably in that order.
“That’ll be cool. We’ll definitely take you up on the offer,” my brother says.
Noah gives Liam a side glance and crosses his arms. Did he just roll his eyes?
I don’t have a chance to analyze the situation further because Santi pulls me away.
My vlog picks up more followers after Santi put it on blast for a week while we were in Sakhir for the Bahrain Grand Prix—growing from a few hundred followers to a solid thousand. The idea hits me of posting YouTube videos of vlogs from each stop on our list. Last week, I filmed during our time in Bahrain, including a video from the practice sessions and interviews with the fans around the racetrack.
I edit and share a video of Santi placing fourth again in the Bahrain Grand Prix. Another loss for him, which makes for an unhappy brother. He says he’s worked out the kinks of his new car. We move along, ready to hit the next race, time passing quickly with all the traveling from city to city.
Followers comment on how they love seeing behind-the-scenes footage of F1 racing. Turns out a lot of subscribers enjoy that part of my vlog, asking for more webisodes. After all the positive feedback, I dedicate a portion of videos to F1 racing and related activities. Not exactly my original plan. But hey, give the fans what they want. The change helps my numbers increase within a short amount of time. Thousands tune in weekly for the new videos.
New follower requests flood my Instagram, including Noah, Liam, and a few other racers. I accept them and decide to keep my profile private from fans because I want to separate my vlog from my personal life.
Liam and Noah give my channel a shout-out on their own social-media platforms when I tag them in racing clips. My numbers skyrocket, blowing my mind. Amazing what two pretty boys can do. By the time we fly to the third race of the season, I already have over ten thousand followers. Ten points for Maya growing up! Look, Ma, I made it!
We land in Shanghai for the Chinese Grand Prix. Santi takes off soon after we get set up in our hotel room since he scheduled tons of meetings. I hang around the suite and relax after a long flight because my body aches from sitting upright for hours. Another race, another basic hotel suite. White sheets and understated color palettes have become a staple of my life.
I eventually head over to the Bandini motorhome, located right next to the Shanghai racetrack. Easy access allows the crew to take breaks during busy days. It runs like a mini headquarters, with suites for the racers to hang around, along with meeting rooms for pre-and post-race consultations.
While grabbing a snack to eat, I run into someone. My eyes meet a pair of green ones that belong to a woman about my same height. She looks about my age with her blonde hair wrapped up in a top knot, golden pieces escaping the haphazard hairdo. Dressed casual, she rocks a white slogan T-shirt, jeans with more holes than fabric, and white Adidas. She gives off a California beachy vibe from American television shows.
“Oh, sorry about that. I’m such a clumsy person.” Her neck and chest turn a shade of pink that contrasts against her tan skin.
“It’s no problem. I run into things all the time too. I haven’t seen you around here before.” That sounded weirder out loud.
“I’m Sophie. You probably haven’t because I just got here.” She offers her hand and I take it.
“Maya. I haven’t seen anyone my age except my brother. Glad I ran into you—literally.”
She laughs. “It’s my first time joining the race. I wrapped up my classes early for the year to spend time with my dad while he tours. Can’t say no to a free vacation.”