It was the day of the Silverstone Grand Prix in the UK, everyone was hoping to get on the podium, especially Franco. Franco had to start from the pitlane however, having spun out during Qualifying, and his team decided to make a last minute change to his car. He wasnt having a very good time. But the time of the race came and he was more confident than ever, promising himself he would finish within the points.

After the formation lap, Franco peeled back into the pit lane, and got to his box position, the team switching out his tires. Franco proceeded to try and pull out of his box position to park up again, but a shuddering clicking sound was the only thing that exited the car. Confused, Franco started pressing buttons on his steering wheel, trying to get it to move, but the clicking sound continued each time he tried to accelerate. "Something is broken.. What the fuck..?" Franco said over the radio, a confused tone in his voice as he looked at the screen on the steering wheel, but then the engine suddenly turned off.

"Alright mate we've got anti-stall here." His engineer spoke over the radio in response to the issue, but Franco kept trying to press buttons.

"Wh-... Oh my-.." Franco almost spoke, but let out a sharp exhale, staring at his wheel. "What's happening? I'm so-..." Franco tried to say, but his engineer interrupted him.

"We're in second gear. M J U K start please." His engineer spoke as Franco fiddled with his wheel and managed to get the car started again, but each time he tried to accelerate it didnt move, and a few seconds later turned off again, Franco tried again, only to be given the same outcome. "It's the same as barcelona.. It's the same.." Franco said with a disappointed voice as his team pulled him back into the garage.

"Oh mate...." Franco murmured, his voice slightly high pitched as he rested his hands on his lap, looking at the guys pushing him into the garage.

"Okay mate we're not very sure what's going on here, we're stuck in gear and we cant pull away." His engineer added, as Franco looked down at his wheel again.

"Oh my god.." Franco spoke quietly, his voice gentle as if he were stopping himself from sobbing right then and there. He slowly put his hands up on the curved bar above the cockpit of the car, but he put them back down, not wanting to get out yet. "I cant believe-" Franco started again, stuttering. "Mate-" Franco exhaled, going silent again as he just sat in the car for a while, staring at the wheel before finally getting up and out the car, staring at it for a moment, then at the race being played on the tv, one that he could be in right now, his emotions were running high.

He didn't take off his helmet, not wanting to talk to anyone right now. He put his hand up to his visor, as if about to wipe away tears that were coming from his eyes under his helmet, making a bee line to exit the paddock, not wanting to stick around any longer, just wanting to get home.

As he got home, he tossed his keys down on his couch, and laid down, staring at the wall as his eyes began to well up again, bringing a hand up to wipe his eyes as he tried to muffle his sniffles and breathing.

You were on your way to his house, having seen the live, and wanted to talk to him. You were one of his best friends. You made your way up the stairs of his house, bringing a hand up to knock at his door. He didn't answer, he just looked over at his front door, and rolled over, shoving his face in the couch cushion under him. You knocked again, nothing.

Even if he needed to talk to someone right now, he didnt get up, he just huffed, not wanting you to have to deal with him in this kind of moment.