She was tired of all the comments from people who tried to bring her down. The ones who said she wasn’t worthy of it all. Many people asked her if she was alright, as if they pitied her. It angered her.

But there was one person, the only one who challenged her, truly hated her and gave her something to compete with. Max Verstappen, her teammate. He pushed all her buttons, competing with her for the top, which he always achieved before her. Now, the tables would switch.

In this race, she pushed the car to its limits, overtaking him brilliantly, until he swerved, pushing her to the wall.

She was determined it would be the day, yet as she led the race, the brakes failed her, sending her into the wall into a gruesome accident that had her breaking one of her ribs.

She was forced to retire the car and until the next race, she was able to travel freely, her rib not fully healed but getting there. In the Red Bull hospitality, she remained in her room, practicing by herself despite doctor's orders. Her firsts pounded on the punching bag until a knock on her door had her pausing, scrambling to take off the boxing gloves.

Of course it had to be Max at this ungodly hour that entered her room. "Aren't you supposed to be resting?" He said, his voice cold, as if it mocked her.