The chair I’m sitting in is highly uncomfortable. I keep shifting my weight back and forth as the bright light blares against my skin.
The cameras ahead of me are placed in a straight diagonal line behind the black barrier. The biggest camera faces the middle of the backdrop, giving a wide angle in order to see all three chairs lined up. Hearing footsteps beside me, I see Xavier walk in with his friendly confidence. It’s the first press conference of the season and I’m looking forward to talking to him about our future as teammates.
All that dissipates quickly when I remember that the devil himself will grace us with his presence throughout this press conference. I know I’m going to have to keep it together, but I want to punch the man in the face for even smirking in my direction.
Standing up, I greet Xavier with a warm smile and give him a hug.
“How are you doing? I heard you butted heads with the big boss.” Xavier chuckles with his famous cheesy grin.
“Yeah, he told me to go faster during practice, and I basically told him to fuck off.” I smile at the memory.
“He can be intense at times, but overall, he’ll be able to push us in a way that nobody can even fathom, even if it’s unconventional.”
“I guess. I mean he took a chance on me which I can appreciate, but I don’t like to deal with narcissistic assho—”
“Are we talking about me? I’m flattered,ragazza,” a deep Italian voice sounds behind me. I can already feel the annoyed, disingenuous smile that spreads across my face.
Xavier begins choking on the water he was drinking. But it isn’t a successful task as he spits out all of it before he starts dying of audible laughter. I give him a glare and he shrugs. Then he walks away, cleaning off his chin while still laughing to himself.
I feel a tap on my shoulder, and I slowly turn on my feet before meeting the Italiandemonio’seyes. He just smirks down at me waiting for a word to come out of my mouth. Refusing to give him any sort of satisfaction, I look up at him with my eyebrows raised.
“Are you going to finish that sentence to my face, Miss Castillo, or are you going to let that statement stay up in the air?”
“What I was saying before you cut me off is that you’re a narcissistic asshole that has no thought for the people around you, and you only care about your well-being.” I return that stupid smirk as I turn around mockingly.
He catches my wrist while I’m in the process of turning around. His grip is tight, and it lingers there for a few seconds before he turns me around completely, keeping us at arms length.
He lets go of me, the feel of his hand still lingering in its absence. He slowly starts walking beside me but stops briefly at my side.
“And you think your actions don’t exude disrespect?” He plops into the seat farthest from my chair, at a distance where he can hear my voice faintly.
“I don’t act disrespectfully towards you, I just say what I think.” I wink playfully like nothing happened. Turning my head, I finally face the noise of my first Formula One interview.
After ten minutes of basic questions from a Sky Sports reporter, the rest of the session goes out to the interviewers in the small crowd in front of us. Fox Sports, ESPN, and all the other channels wait their turn to be called by the moderator.
“We saw the events of what happened between you, Miss Castillo, and your team principal at pre-season testing in Barcelona. Why was that a decision made on your part as a driver, and how did that make you feel as a team principal, Luca?” asks a male interviewer from I don’t even know where at this point.
We stay silent for a bit looking at each other waiting for the other to respond. After a few moments, Mr. Donatello responds swiftly, saving the awkward silence from becoming a black hole enveloping everyone in the room.
Including myself.
“As team principal, it was sort of a disappointing occurrence from our rookie driver over here. I think when people come into this sport, it can be a lot at times. Unprofessional decisions are made, and things get out of hand. But what happened a few weeks ago, I think, was a fault of judgment on both parts,” he finishes his vague response. Leaning over to face him directly, I look at him for a second, dumbfounded.
“What do you mean by fault of judgment on both parts?” I raise an eyebrow at him waiting for him to answer my question.
“Like I said, it was a fault of judgment on both our parts.” I just hum in response looking back at the cameras. Everyone stays looking at me as I sit there in silence not wanting to answer the question.
I sigh knowing answering is inevitable.
“What happened in Barcelona was something that simply happened. I think it was a misunderstanding on some parts, but not what was important at the time. Being that this is my first year in the sport, as well as being recruited to a top team, means that there is pressure involved, which isn’t something that bothers me. But it does push me to do things that I don’t like to do at times. A prime example of that was pre-season testing.”
“Thank you for your response, Alejandra, Luca, and Xavier. We look forward to seeing you out at the race tonight.”
All of us nod our heads as we stand up from our seats and we make our way out of the room, shaking hands with a few publicity people before heading for the stairs. Xavier and Mr. Donatello are ahead of me as we descend down a few flights. Even though I was in the chair closest to the door, Xavier flew out of that room as fast as he could. Most likely trying to avoid the hateful vibes that our boss and I are expelling towards each other.
Xavier is all about good vibes and trying to stay positive. From the fan perspective, his presence in Formula One has always been a joy to watch. I don’t think that man has ever had anyone not find him incredibly charismatic and funny. Not even me, and I’m kind of hard to make a lasting impression on. I get annoyed very easily.
Exhibit A: Mr. Donatello.