Livery Unveil Day: Mar. 7, Grimaldi Forum, Monte Carlo, Monaco.
The evening of the Livery Unveil Event had been set, and a crowd had gathered at the Grimaldi Forum, located next to the diterranean Sea itself.
Everywhere was bathed in a golden twilight, and the crescent moon was already up and high in the sky, naturally illuminating the yachts and canoes that lined the harbor.
Many high-profile guests, including sponsors and journalists, had already made their way into the architecture for the event, while only a few racing enthusiasts—about just a hundred—were let into the venue.
Beyond the location, security struggled to keep the remaining hundreds away. It was as if the sea breeze was fueling their determination to witness the unveil in person rather than through the press broadcast already taking place inside.
However, in an event that required drivers to co on stage, interact closely with fans, and sign autographs afterward, the FIA deed it essential to regulate attendance.
Given the potential for large crowds and extensive physical contact, they decided to allow only a limited number of fans inside.
At the very least, those gathered outside got a good view of the team buses and trucks rolling in.
Each ti a team passed, their respective fans erupted into cheers, waving their flags enthusiastically.
Luca didn't know how many teams had made it in before them, but the crowd cheered as they steadily drove past, the headlights of their buses cutting through the darkness.
Jackson Racing had an impressive, well-coordinated formation whenever they arrived at a venue, effortlessly commanding attention.
Luca was certain this unique arrangent stemd from the fact that the team rarely traveled together in unison.
So when they did, it had to be carefully planned and executed with perfection, ensuring a smooth and orderly arrival.
Luca was inside one of the buses, seated by a window—his favorite position.
He had removed his headphones buzzing with music when the cityscape faded away, aning the transports had veered off into a venue.
Luca glanced around Bus 4 as they pulled into the venue.
He shared the bus with his fellow Silver Ferrari drivers and a few crew mbers, like the Chinese man seated beside him, who seed deeply focused on his laptop screen, analyzing what looked like a market graph. The man appeared to be around 50.
Everyone else was occupied with sothing. Rodnick, for example, seed to have a similar pre-event ritual involving music because he had his own headphones on, his head leaned back, eyes closed, completely absorbed in his own world.
Di Renzo was engaged in conversation with another driver, Thompson, who, like Luca, was just 19 years old.
Eddy, the team's crew leader—much like how McCauley was to Trampos—was also on board. Luca couldn't shake the thought that Eddy and McCauley might be brothers or at least related in so way because their resemblance was damn uncanny.
The bus staggered as they dipped into a tunnel, causing the interior lights to flicker on, briefly illuminating everyone inside.
Luca noticed that Rodnick and the others who had been taking a quick nap stirred awake, jolted by the movent.
"We're here, guys," Eddy said in a soft, drowsy tone and rose to his feet, even though the bus was still moving through the tunnel, the echo of the engines ahead and behind bouncing off the walls.
They finally ca to a stop, and the team disembarked, not a single word spoken to each other until the other buses stopped as well, and everyone reunited into a crowd.
Luca rubbed his sensitive eyes, montarily blinded by the bright lights in the tunnel. He did his best to adapt to Jackson Racing and followed silently into the room spaces accommodated by them.
The venue workers welcod them, and the FIA marked their presence.
It felt like a place of real official duty as there were flight boxes everywhere, and even when their trucks arrived with the sheathed Ferraris, they were handled with the utmost care, assisted by equipnt Luca hadn't seen before.
Inside their designated space, the atmosphere remained professional and disciplined. Luca followed the others inside, adjusting his headphones as he observed the setup.
Everything was neatly arranged in the large space, obviously to accommodate them all until it'd be ti to step out on stage.
Tables were lined with refreshnts, but few reached for them. Instead, team mbers quietly ran through schedules and last-minute adjustnts.
Luca, Di Renzo, and Rodnick stood off to one side, waiting for Mr. Matthews, who had sothing important to discuss with them.
It was about which two drivers from Jackson Racing would stand on stage to showcase the new racing suit designs.
With more than two drivers on the team, only a select pair would get the spotlight, and that was the dilemma Mr. Matthews had to resolve.
Luca couldn't shake the unease creeping up on him. Would he be chosen to stand alongside Rodnick? Rodnick's spot was a given—there was no question about that. But Luca wasn't as certain about himself.
When Mr. Matthews finally pushed the door open and walked in, his eyes imdiately found Di Renzo. Without hesitation, he approached, placed a firm hand on Di Renzo's shoulder, and guided him aside for a quiet conversation.
Luca didn't need to hear the words to understand what had just been decided. He was the one who would be standing on stage.
Honestly, he'd expected Di Renzo to have the upper hand. The guy had been with the team longer, while Luca himself was still a fresh addition.
But it seed, once again, Mr. Matthews might have prioritized that integration once again, or maybe just another reason.
Either way, Luca wasn't about to overanalyze it. He was imnsely grateful to showcase the designs tonight.
He accepted the ironed suit in its transparent nylon covering and the helt, nodding in acknowledgnt, though Rodnick, as expected, barely reacted.
Luca glanced around the room, half-expecting to catch a flicker of doubt in soone's expression, so unspoken thought that he didn't deserve this.
But no one seed to care. Not even Di Renzo. Their eyes were elsewhere, their minds already moving forward.
They really don't give a shit...
Luca peeled the transparent nylon away, revealing the pristine suit folded neatly inside.
What a beauty, he thought as it felt weightless yet sturdy between his fingers.
The suit even looked aerodynamic while it was still in Luca's hands with the blue and lines of white shimring under the overhead lights above him.
Without another thought, Luca began to put it on, casting a glance at Rodnick who was just starting, taking his ti.
Beyond the thick walls of their space, Luca began to hear the thrum and pulse of music, the bass vibrating through the floor.
The event had begun, and the voice of the host was now echoing from the stage as if he was hyping the crowd to cheer even louder.
Luca zipped up the suit and adjusted the straps. Then, without him even asking, a few crew mbers rushed to him like robots to ensure everything was secured.
Eddy opened the door wide and moved his head. "Let's go."
---------
"Ladies and gentlen, motorsport fans from all over the world—it's almost ti!"
Whistles. Applause, Cheer.
The host's voice kept booming through the venue once again, amplified by the massive sound system.
Luca and Rodnick stood in a booth off to the side, shrouded in darkness. The audience couldn't see them, but from where they stood, they had a full view of the electrified crowd.
Similar booths were scattered across the venue, each housing other drivers dressed in their team's newly revealed designs. While they couldn't see each other, they could all see the grand spectacle before them.
The main stage was a masterpiece of modern spectacle. Bright, sweeping lights bead across the venue in alternating patterns of the different colors of the F1 logo.
A sleek, elevated runway stretched out toward the crowd, gleaming under the floodlights. The main stage connected to the runway and now, the main stage was occupied by ten different objects—clearly the cars—draped in white cloths, covering the whole chassis.
Rodnick leaned slightly forward. "Which one's ours?"
"The sixth to the right!" Eddy called back over the noise.
Luca's eyes followed the direction, observing how the sweeping lights cast perfectly tid glows on their car's silhouette. "Very nice spot."
"Yeah! Y'know, I saw Velocità's!"
Both Luca and Rodnick turned toward Eddy in unison. "Really?"
Eddy grinned. "Yeah! Caught a quick glimpse—absolute horror. Looks like soone spilled paint on it!"
For the first ti since joining Jackson Racing, Luca laughed with soone else—two people, in fact.
Relief ca with the laughter. It felt natural. It felt right.
And it made Luca look forward to more.
"Gaffer wants a last word—let's go!" Eddy called out, already leading the way back toward the tunnel where Mr. Matthews stood, engaged in conversation with soone else.
Luca was about to follow when sothing tugged at his leg.
Frowning, he turned around, but he saw nothing.
Then he looked down.
His eyes widened in sheer disbelief as a small face peered up at him.
"Luca? What's wrong?!" Eddy yelled over the noise, pausing when he realized Luca wasn't tagging along.
Luca barely registered his voice. His mind was still reeling from the sight of Emma—Ansel's little niece—standing right there in the booth.
What the hell was she doing here?
"Who the fuck is this kid?" Eddy blurted out.
"Language, Eddy," Rodnick scolded as he returned. "That's a little girl."
Emma clutched a small plush pony, the one Ken had gotten her. Her bright eyes flickered between the n, curiosity shifting into uncertainty. But when she looked at Luca, it was as if she expected him to save her.
"Do you know her?"
"Your daughter?"
"He's not married, Eddy."
Luca swallowed hard, reaching down to take Emma's hand and gently guiding her out of the booth. "She's the daughter of soone I know," he explained. "I had no idea she was here."
Bending slightly, he t her gaze. "What are you doing here, little one? Your uncle's around?"
"Yes, he is," Emma answered sweetly, but her eyes flickered warily toward Eddy, as if he were so kind of monster.
"You should be with him and Aunt Laura, not here," Luca told her, exhaling before adding in a quieter voice, "this is enemy territory."
Emma's expression twisted into a frown before she suddenly reached up and pinched Luca's shoulder.
"You are not my enemy."
Eddy groaned, already exhausted by this bizarre exchange. He crouched down to Emma's level, giving her Trampos team shirt a pointed glance. "Whether you like it or not, chap," he said, "he's your enemy. Now move along to your family."
Luca shook his head, standing back up. "It's not safe for a six-year-old to be wandering around here. I'll take her to the nearest care point—they'll get her back to her family."
Eddy sighed, rubbing his forehead before waving him off. "Fine, but be quick. I think the show starts in ten."
Luca nodded, gently tugging Emma's hand to follow.
Emma complied imdiately, though not before shooting one last look over her shoulder and sticking her tongue out at Eddy.
"You've got so guts, Emma. How did you even squeeze your way through?" Luca asked, glancing down at her.
"No one seed to notice ," she answered simply.
After a short walk, Luca stopped beside a flight box and turned to face her. "I can't take you farther than here. I'm in the new suit, and I don't want to ruin the reveal. Do you know how to get back?"
Emma blinked, glancing around the busy place until her expression shifted. She had no idea. She had totally forgotten her way.
Luca exhaled sharply, rubbing his face. Of course. She probably didn't even rember how she got this far in the first place.
Just as he was about to co up with a solution, Emma's eyes suddenly lit up. She pointed excitedly to the right. "Oh! That's Uncle and Aunt! They must've been looking for !"
Luca, who had his hands on his waist, wasn't ntally ready to take in the sight of Ansel and Laura.
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