Chapter 75: Calm Before the Storm

The soft hum of a phone alarm broke the quiet of Henry's hotel room. He rubbed his eyes, the weight of the previous day's qualifying still lingering. Rolling out of bed, he peeked out the window to catch a glimpse of the sun rising over the Spanish countryside. Today was the day.

By the time he reached the lobby, Luca was already waiting, leaning against a sleek black coffee machine with his arms crossed. The smirk on his face was as predictable as the teasing that followed.

"Well, well," Luca began, his Italian accent playfully exaggerated. "If it isn't Mr. Second-Place Specialist. Tell me, Calder, do you plan on collecting runner-up medals for your trophy case?"

Henry shot him a dry look, brushing past to grab his own coffee. "Funny coming from a guy who's perfected the art of watching me lead the championship. How's the view from second place in the standings, by the way?"

Luca feigned a wince, clutching his chest. "Ouch. Low blow for so early in the morning."

Before Henry could retort, Laurent's unmistakable voice cut through the exchange. "I thought you two were competing for the Slowest Start of the Morning award. Get in the car before I leave you both behind."

Laurent stood by the team car, coffee in hand, a hint of exasperation tempered by his usual dry wit. Henry and Luca exchanged a glance, their banter momentarily paused as they grabbed their gear and followed their team engineer.

The car hummed softly as it sped toward the circuit, the early morning light casting long shadows on the quiet roads. Laurent, seated in the front, scrolled through his tablet with the intensity of a man preparing for war.

"Let's review," Laurent began, his tone shifting to the no-nonsense cadence they were used to. "Calder, your qualifying pace was solid, but you're still losing time in high-speed corners. Turn 10 needs work. Moretti, your consistency is commendable, but you need to watch your rear tires, they're degrading faster than expected during longer runs."

Luca leaned back, a grin spreading across his face. "Sounds like you're talking to the rookie, Laurent. I'm practically perfect."

Henry snorted. "Funny coming from the guy who spent half of Q2 chasing my times."

Laurent didn't bother hiding his annoyance. "Alright, children. Enough. Focus. ART has two cars on the front row. You can fight for the win, but I will not have this team suffer because you two can't keep it clean. Do I make myself clear?"

"Yes, Dad," Luca and Henry said in unison, eliciting a rare chuckle from Laurent.

The circuit buzzed with activity as the team car pulled into the paddock. Security waved them through, and the roar of the crowd grew louder with every step. Fans packed the grandstands, waving flags and banners, their chants blending into a chaotic symphony of support.

As they approached the ART garage, Henry spotted a familiar figure waiting near the entrance. Taryn stood there, hands tucked into her jacket pockets, her smile lighting up the moment.

"You're early," Henry said, surprised as he reached her.

Taryn shrugged, her eyes warm. "Didn't want to sit in the garage alone. Besides, I wanted to see you before things got crazy."

Henry pulled her into a quick hug, her presence instantly soothing.

Luca sauntered over, a playful grin on his face. "Ah, the lovely Taryn. Always a pleasure. Tell me, how do you manage to keep this guy grounded?"

Taryn laughed. "It's a full-time job, but someone's got to do it."

Luca placed a hand over his heart, feigning hurt. "And here I thought I was the most important person in his life. The betrayal!"

The three of them walked toward the garage together, their laughter cutting through the tension of the morning.

Inside the ART garage, the mood was all business. Engineers and mechanics swarmed around the cars, running final checks and making last-minute adjustments. Henry and Luca split off, each diving into their own preparations.

Henry approached his car, running a hand along the edge of the chassis. He went over every detail with his engineers, asking questions and double-checking the setup.

Nearby, Luca watched with an amused expression. "Careful, Calder. If you stare at it long enough, you might scare it into driving faster."

Henry didn't look up. "You should try it sometime. Might help you close the gap in the standings."

The banter was easy, but Henry's focus remained sharp. Once satisfied with the setup, he stepped away, his thoughts shifting to the race ahead.

As Henry began suiting up, Taryn found him again, her expression a mix of pride and quiet worry.

"You ready?" she asked, her voice soft.

"Always," Henry replied, though his nerves hummed beneath the surface.

She reached up, adjusting the collar of his race suit. "Just remember, no matter what happens out there, you've already proven yourself. I'm proud of you, Henry."

He leaned down, pressing a quick kiss to her forehead. "Couldn't do it without you."

Taryn smiled, stepping back as he grabbed his helmet. "Go get 'em."

Climbing into his car, Henry felt the world narrow. The familiar hum of the engine, the snug fit of his seat, the weight of his helmet, all of it grounded him.

Pulling out of the garage, he joined the grid, his car sliding into position beside Luca's. The two exchanged a glance, their earlier teasing replaced by mutual respect and silent determination.

The crowd's roar was deafening, the energy palpable. But inside the cockpit, it was quiet—a moment of calm before the storm.

The lights above the grid blinked red, one by one. Henry gripped the wheel tighter, his pulse steady.

The battle was about to begin.