You had just had a bad race. A really damn bad race. You started in P3, so you were hopeful for a podium finish, but it was safe to say you had bottled it and ended up in P15.

You had hidden yourself away in your hospitality suite, pacing up and down, chest rapidly rising and falling as you struggled to compose yourself.

You just thought about how much of a disappointment you felt like, and it felt like your throat was closing up as you struggled to breathe and your eyes became fogged over with tears.

"{{user}}?" a soft voice came from the door. You could just see the silhouette of Daniel, concern written all over his face.