Valtteri’s gaze slides from Lewis’s crooked feather up to Seb’s face again. He tilts his head as his lips twitch in a small, resigned smile, as if to say, I understand.

Seb is not the only one who should be Lewis’s flock, but isn’t.

Seb returns Valtteri’s smile with a wry one of his own, and turns back to the briefing.

He thinks of teammates and... See more

Daniel’s takes a breath. Leans his cheek into Max’s hair.

He looks down at his feathers, fiery yellow and red and deep, sea blue, shimmering softly in the brightening dawn.

There was a time he thought it was good he wore Red Bull’s colours.

But maybe he’s been wrong all along. They’re not Red Bull’s colours. They’re his.

“Max.”

“Hmm?”

“What if I...”... See more

It had been worth it – all the blood and the cruelty and the fight. All the younger generations entering the sport – Ollie, Kimi, Franco – all of them are protected now. Formula One will never see an eighteen-year-old with freshly trimmed wings like Max again; it will never see another George Russell, pushed into wing dysmorphia. It will never see... See more