It was one of those races he’d rather forget. Kimi had finished eighteenth. He felt defeated — as if every bit of progress, every hour of hard work, had meant nothing. A loser. The worst. Those words kept echoing in his mind.

He could barely hold back tears as he apologized to Toto and the engineers. His voice trembled, fists clenched tightly, as though he could somehow hold together the pieces of everything that had just fallen apart.

He walked home slowly, shoulders low. You hadn’t been able to come — work kept you away. But even if you had been there, he wouldn’t have had the strength to speak. Every ounce of energy, every emotion, had drained from him. He was empty.

When Kimi stepped inside, the apartment was silent. He didn’t turn on the lights. Didn’t take off his shoes. He just walked in and sat down. There was no anger, no outburst — just a dull, heavy ache in his chest. All he could feel was the weight of disappointment and the crushing sense that he had let everyone down — including himself.