ATLAS VAUGHN REVEALS MENTAL HEALTH STRUGGLES AHEAD OF FINAL RACE OF THE SEASON

Porsche ace Atlas Vaughn revealed in one of the first interviews of this final race weekend in Abu Dhabi that he has been suffering from panic attacks since his rookie season in Formula One. The most recent of which occurring before qualifying in the United States Grand Prix, accounting for his absence in qualifying and the race that weekend.

"It's been a very difficult thing for me to reconcile with these last few weeks," Vaughn explained to Sky Sports. "But I've also realized recently that it's quite selfish of me to hold onto this any longer, because I know I wish I had someone back then telling me that it's okay, and that if I need help I'm allowed to ask. It's not something to be ashamed or embarrassed about. So my hope is that someone else sees me talking about it, and maybe that gives them the strength to ask for help too."

"I know I've told you like ten times already this weekend, but I'm proud of you."

"Well, don't go grabbing the balloons and streamers yet, I still haven plenty of time to cop out of doing that Players' Tribune article," Atlas chuckled as he zipped up the front of his racing overalls.

"You wouldn't," I scoffed. "You're too committed now. Besides, I think you actually want to do it."

"I know," he surrendered in a low voice, the sincerity not lost on either of us. Atlas then leaned down to press a kiss to the top of my head.

He'd stayed with me for the week in California, and he'd even made a congratulatory post for me on his Instagram for my world title, publicly solidifying my place in his life. We'd then ventured over to Abu Dhabi together for the last race of the season, with Phantom joining us.

Things were almost normal. Almost.

I'd seen Gemma across the paddock earlier through a sea of red polo shirt guys, but she hadn't seen me, and part of me was relieved she hadn't. I wasn't ready to confront all of that yet. Boys are one thing, but best friends are another stratosphere entirely.

"Don't stress about it," Atlas had told me. "You two will have your time together when you're both ready." I knew he was right, but that didn't make waiting around for that moment any less nerve-wracking.

This time, when Atlas walked me out into the paddock and towards the garages, we ran into a gaggle of Red Polo Shirt Guys, with Callahan Jane dressed in his red kit in the center of them.

I knew that Cal knew. After Atlas and I had returned from our shark conservatory field trip, the first person he wanted to speak to was Callahan. Callahan knowing the truth was sort of a catalyst for everyone and everything else. So when they made eye contact across the paddock, all of the lingering negativity from their feud in Germany had dissipated.

I, on the other hand, still had lingering negativity, mostly of my own doing. I didn't even know the extent of what Callahan knew about my fight with Gemma, but it didn't matter. This was something I knew I had to do first. So I tried to grab his attention the best way I knew how.

"Hey, Red Polo Shirt Guy!"

In hindsight, that was not the best course of action as literally every guy sporting a Red Polo Shirt turned around except the one whose attention I wanted. Atlas took care of that with aplomb.

"Hey, meilleur ami!" he called across the paddock, and it snatched Callahan's attention immediately. He took in the sight of us together with the faintest half-smile before turning back to his gaggle of Red Polo Shirt Guys and exchanged a few words with them, then sending them off and walking over to us.

The apprehension of getting to this very moment wore off as he finally stood in front of me. After all, I wasn't nervous to actually talk to him - he was easy to talk to. I almost exhaled an audible sigh of relief when he greeted us.

"I realized I should have a different name for addressing you when you're actually dressed for the race," I said to him with a faint grin. "I don't need to summon the whole Red Polo Shirt Guy army."

"What's wrong with calling him by his actual name?" Atlas seemed to direct the question at both of us, folding his arms over his overalls.

"You don't call me by my actual name 90% of the time."

We all shared a subdued chuckle, and I knew this was potentially the only moment I had to speak to him on my own. While I didn't feel like I owed him a direct apology, I had a nagging feeling about some of the things I'd said about him to Gemma. After all, he wasn't just a guy.

I slid Atlas a knowing glance, and he caught on quickly.

"I have to go grab something from the garage," he said as he took a step back. "But I'll see you out on the front row."

"Promise not to be a sore loser when I get a better start," Callahan retorted with a coy smirk.

Atlas mirrored it when he backed away, calling over his shoulder, "Well, I'm glad I have you to remind me of that."

When I turned back to Callahan, he offered me that same cordial half-smile he approached us with, and it teased out a smile in me.

"You know, that first night I met Atlas, the first thing he said about you was that you were the sore loser," I told him, my heart lifting at the memory. If only I knew then what I knew now.

"We take turns."

He shifted his weight on his boots, and the hint of apprehension returned. I had to operate under the assumption that he knew everything, and my time to pull the guilty weeds was limited to right now.

"I just..." I sighed out. "I just real quickly wanted to let you know that whatever is going on with Gemma and I, it has nothing to do with you. You're...I mean, you're not just some guy who's dating my best friend. I'm genuinely on your team, Callahan."

A soft smile graced his lips. "And I was rooting for you in California. When your board broke, Gemma nearly broke my hand."

When the realization that they'd both been watching my finals heat set in, there was no need to second guess anything else about my conversation with Callahan, now or in the future. "Well, I have her to indirectly thank for my replacement, since Atlas was the one who paddled a new one out to me."

"That was nerve-wracking. He was never a strong swimmer."

"Oh, he definitely isn't."

We shared another faint laugh, and when I glanced around the paddock, I realized how alone we suddenly were. Almost like the universe was granting us the privacy we wanted, and needed.

"Gemma's up in the box," Callahan dropped in casually. "Your pass would get you in."

"And to think, I used to get more nervous about sitting in the garage," I said with a grimace. "Funny how quickly some things change."

Callahan remained quiet for a moment. "She's convinced she still owes you breakfast from that weekend in Monaco. Best not let that go to waste, not when I know our hotel has a stunning buffet."

"Oh my god, the pancakes." I scoffed out a laugh as more memories from that first night flooded me. I had given Gemma an ultimatum before we'd left the club - pancakes for me, or take a chance on Red Polo Shirt Guy. "We had no idea what we were getting ourselves into, huh?"

"Atlas and I might be more trouble than we're worth."

"Nah," I shook my head. "You guys are worth it."

A few antsy looking Red Polo Shirt Guys had come up to collect Callahan, and I took that as our cue to end the conversation. Before we went our separate ways, I quickly flung my arms around his shoulder and gave him a quick squeeze.

"You're alright, Callahan Jane," I told him. "You're alright."

He winked as he backed away, disappearing into the suddenly crowded paddock once more, like we'd hit play on the rest of the world again.

Even though I knew he was fully in race mode down in the garage, I fired off a quick text to Atlas just letting him know I wouldn't be joining him there before making my way up to the Paddock Club. The cars and their accompanying crew members were out on track by the time I made it up, and with shaky hands I pushed the glass door open, clocking a vacant bright red plastic chair next to Gemma. Never once second guessing myself, I dropped into the chair.

"Hi," I breathed out, sliding off my purse and putting it down on the table.

Gemma feigned a look around, even though no one else up there was paying us any mind. "I hope these fools know they are in the presence of a champion."

I mirrored her glance. "We're in the desert in the UAE, not Southern California. There's no ocean here for me to show off in."

Gemma laughed, and the sound of that alone felt rewarding - a reminder that despite everything, we still had and always would transcend normal friendship niceties. We could go three tense weeks and pick up like it had been three regular days, even though we weren't regular people.

"Also, according to Atlas, you're very persuasive," I added with a chuckle. "However, that was breaking news to me."

Gemma kept a tight grin on. "Well, I'm glad you finally received some external validation after all these years."

All of the commotion down on the track below us began to disperse as the cars readied themselves for the formation lap. Night had fully descended upon the track, and the bright lights above us illuminated every speck of metallic paint on the surface of every car.

Before we resigned ourselves to one last race, I straightened up in my chair to address her. "I thought about this a lot over the last few weeks, and I'm sorry I didn't come after you when you left. I wish that I did."

"And I wish I turned around." Gemma smoothed out invisible wrinkles on her green long-sleeve dress before looking directly at me. "But it's still you and me forever, no matter what."

"I know." I forced out a chuckle, feeling the prick of sentimental tears at the back of my eyes. "I got you, and you got me."

The cars lined up on the grid after finishing their formation lap, and we rose from our chairs to find a Porsche and a Ferrari at the front of the grid, right under the lights.

I felt Gemma lace her fingers in mine and gently squeeze my hand. It should have been easy to resign myself to the moment - the noise, the heat, the way my heart thumped against my ribcage. But standing above the starting grid, looking at the cars line up, glinting under the bright lights of the circuit, I was overwhelmed with memories of what got me here in the first place. The one thing that never changed throughout it all was Gemma by my side.

It seemed as if the entire crowd took a collective inhale as the lights above the grid flashed to life. Engine on. Count down. Exhale.

"It's lights out, and away we go."

i know i got you
and you know you got me
we got everything we need
we got everything we need

when my mind's racing
yeah i just need some four-wheel oscillation
cause lord knows i can't afford that vacation
and you can't see the skyline from the basement
yeah, you always remind me
yeah, you always remind me

everything we need / a day to remember

THE END.