chapter one.
( the promotion.)

I was never really a fan of elevator music. It is supposed to be calming and relaxing, or just overall boring. But all it does for me right now is freak me out even more. Practically dancing on my already tired nerves. 

I kept tapping my pencil to my almighty iPad (which essentially holds my entire life together), so the screen constantly lit up and dimmed down, making my Notion dashboard visible. That Notion board was all-knowing. All my plans, routines, calendar events, contacts and track results were noted there, carefully curated and awkwardly too detailed. 

Although, this was the first thing I learned when I started working in Formula One. Never trust just your brain for remembering stuff, have multiple emergency saves and a strong-ass password. So I started putting everything into my Notion. One quick glance there and all the information you need about me, my life or my schedule is right there in the open. Thank God for password-protected devices. 

I kept hitting the screen with the tip of my pencil and kept changing the width of a single column on the board that I had open. The season calendar was open, right there with my goals for the year and strategies.

That morning, when a new calendar event popped up on my phone and notified me about the last-minute arranged meeting (team heads only), I knew I had to make the last strokes on my plan. The plan I had already perfected. Rock solid strategies and plan for every single qualifier and Grand Prix. And my Notion board also had thorough reports on every single driver on the grid, updated every single day when news about contract renewals came in. 

I consciously stopped myself before I could bite on my lower lip and dirtied my tooth with blazing red lipstick. The same red that was shining on the suit jacket that I had over the Scuderia Degrassi team shirt and elegant shorts. I had to look perfect when I stepped my foot into that meeting room. I knew beforehand that I would be one of three women in that room. And the one in the highest position, being the head of the strategic team. 

Currently.

Being a woman in Formula One was probably the hardest thing I have ever encountered and the one I will ever outlive. If I even outlive it and not die trying to pave my way through it. 

The elevator stopped with a ding sound and the doors slid open, too slowly for my anxious mind. 

The piranha club thus made a comeback. Let the games begin. 

So I put my game face on, looked into the mirroring wall of the elevator, smoothed my jet-black hair over my shoulder, straightened my back and closed the screen protector case on my iPad. 

Showtime. 

This will be the day I'm being made Team Leader. This will be The Day Matthias Santos steps down, retires and Mason Verena finds himself without a Team Lead. And I come into the picture. When I will finally be named Team Leader to one-time World Champion and lead driver of Scuderia Degrassi, Mason Verena. 

Also known as The One Hit Wonder.

My best friend. 

I shadowed Matti in the last season, while also doing my perfect job over at the strategies. Matti taught me everything I should know about being a Team Leader. He led Mason into being a WDC once. I've planned to make him a champion five times more. As he deserves. And my name gets into the history books, alongside his own. And I will pave the way for more women in motorsport and they will finally see that we are just as witty as the men in the sport. 

Too early for patriarchy-beating thoughts, Sully! Let's survive this meeting before you want to change the world! 

I was a twenty-seven-year-old engineer, the youngest ever to lead a strategy team, and I was a woman. A powerful-ass woman, while also wearing Converse and a suit jacket. 

And La Perla underwear. 

For power. Obviously. 

And I will be a Team Leader. It was pretty much official already. Matti prepared me for this role. Arlo hinted that he is just waiting to announce it to the whole wide world before pre-season testing ends. 

My Five Year Plan was in motion. Be a Team Lead. Lead my best friend to WDC again. And again. And again. And the world will know the name of Sullivan Meier. 

This was my mantra as I walked through the corridor that led to the meeting room. I tried to peek in, to see if everyone had already sat down and I was the last one. I planned to be that one. I liked to be the one who takes the last seat before Arlo, Degrassi's Team Principal comes in and starts the meeting. 

So I walked towards the last empty seat at the table, my regular seat, between Mason and Finley Sigertem, our Social Media Manager. Matti shot me a proud and calming look across the table as I sat down and Mason patted the back of my chair. I felt a smug grin appearing on my lips, which I quickly tried to smooth out. I should have kept the poker face on and remained professional. 

But I was the winner and I knew it. I've already seen the scene, playing in my head, as Arlo says my name and the leaders clap for me. 

I'm a smug and confident motherfucker. I know, okay? Let me enjoy the well-deserved wins that I've worked for! Every single man would, right? And I was even more well-equipped than any man. 

"Get that grin off your face!" Mason leaned over, and while we quickly did our secret handshake under the table, he warned me about the fact I already knew. 

"What grin?" I asked back innocently. My poker face was perfect. Being a woman in STEM required that. Rumour had it that I was a stone-cold bitch who needed a good fuck to get the stake from up her ass.

I had a good fuck. Regularly. 

And while they called me stone cold and a bitch, they called my male companions, who made the same faces, professional. 

"Like you already have it in your pocket!" Mason didn't even need to name the thing itself. We all knew what this meeting was about. Everyone knew. That's why they all looked my way when I came in and followed my shadow and figure from the top strands of my hair to the bottoms of my black Converse. That's why I was squeaky clean. And picture perfect. And that is also why I always sat down next to Mason. 

Of course, on one hand, he was my best friend. Off the grid. But on the grid, I always had to be impartial. Place the team itself in the first place. Mason was the number two driver up till now. I always had to act true to that, in strategies. He was the one who kept me sane but I couldn't even be too friendly towards him near the paddock, so no one got the wrong idea. The idea I always tried to avoid and I succeeded. That I slept my way into my place. 

But with this seating arrangement, I declared two things. That my allegiance lies with Mason, first and foremost. And two, that I stand up next to the women on my team. Hence why Finley was on my other side. She was the youngest one in the team, with a huge responsibility already. Being Gen Z (and an American), she was the most innocent. She started with NASCAR and last season, she found herself here, in Degrassi colours, relocated to Monte Carlo. All because she was too talented at making TikToks about fast cars and handsome drivers. Which all teenage girls wanted to see. 

Arlo wanted Degrassi to be the team all horny girls thirst over. And last year, we kinda were. Because Mason completely gave in and took his shirt off willingly, whenever Finley asked. 

He was a dutiful soldier, through and through. 

"But I already have it in my pocket!" I sing-sang my answer quietly. 

"Sure, but you smirk like you're about to commit arson!" Mason scrolled on his phone, his eyes not even on me but on his screen. His Australian accent thickened as he said the words. 

"This time, there won't be any arson, my friend!" I sounded almost gleeful, which I usually tend to avoid. Gleeful and malevolent are just one tiny eye sparkle away from each other. My eyes were on the prize. Or this case, on the door. Waiting for Arlo, the Principal. 

And a second later, he appeared, like he'd heard my thoughts. 

Arlo McCole was the Team Principal of Scuderia Degrassi, and as of last year, also the CEO who holds a 33% stake in our team. Finley once said that Arlo looks like a seducing nightmare and a wet daydream mixed together, with a hint of a sexy serial killer vibe. And she kinda had a point. A sense of mystery and confidence oozed around him as he slicked back his dishwater-blonde hair. And he was rarely seen without his circular sunglasses with mustard yellow rims. We are pretty sure his power comes from that. 

But as Arlo stepped into the room, he took down his glasses, gently smiled at us as he sat down and he quickly tried to make eye contact with all of us. I've heard that Finley starts to breathe a little faster. She was always a little sexually intimated by Arlo, and honestly, I couldn't blame her. My breathing also stopped for a second when Arlo reached my eyes and he tipped his head in my direction. Light as a feather movement. But still reassuring. 

"Thank you all for coming on such short notice." Arlo started. He leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Tomorrow, we'll have a press conference so I wanted all of you to be updated. I know that you are all eager to start the season well and the testing is giving all of us high hopes."

The news of the press conference hit a few days earlier. Scuderia Degrassi was notorious for being private and distant from the press. I was not sure about the topic though. Whether it will be about the second driver they'll bring in to replace our previous number one driver who retired. Or… It'll be about the Team Leader promotion. About me. And acknowledging that this promotion belongs to the history books. I will be the first-ever woman to lead a Formula One driver's team. Not just the first-ever woman of colour, but the first-ever female at all.

Calm the fuck down, Sullivan.  

Strangely, the engine revving that vaguely came through the soundproof window walls, calmed me tremendously. That was the original effect that led me into motorsport. The relaxing sound made all my hypersensitivity quiet down and soothe me. More so, when I acknowledged the outcomes of said engine revving. Pre-season test testing. 

Before the official Formula One overall testing, Degrassi makes its own tests at the headquarters. Personally, testing is probably my favourite part of the season. After a tempestuous winter, the new era of action gets underway with pre-season testing which starts in Barcelona and ends in Bahrain, before the opening Grand Prix. F1’s launch season is almost complete, which means focus on the year takes centre stage as teams get ready to run the new cars and show off what technical innovations each squad has decided upon under some new technical regulations.

The majority of team launches are always an array of smoke and mirror presentations, or in some cases, the use of a show car entirely to keep the real thing under wraps for as long as possible. Meaning the pre-season tests will be the first time all of the new F1 cars will be seen as fully intended. All ten F1 teams will be in action at both pre-season tests which provide the first real insight into which teams have got it right and which teams have work to do. While never fully taken as the true pecking order, due to teams hiding outright performance levels by sandbagging their speeds, the tests still reveal an overview while giving teams, which are struggling, nowhere to hide.

The Barcelona testing will be the last time before all of us get televised. The last time we get to pull ourselves together before a big audience gets to witness all of us. 

And as Degrassi is probably the most secretive and private Formula One team, the testing always holds surprises for the fans. Such as this newly announced press conference. All media outlets try to figure out who will hold our second seat. We could all be spies because secret keeping is our speciality. So nothing leaked out about our second driver when all contract renewal news broke out. No, we intended to push the nerves to test too. 

I didn't even know who would be in our team as the second driver. Not even Mason. Only Arlo. Who could probably lead the KGB at this point.  

"I know all of us were surprised when Marty announced his retirement last year," that one was overkill. Everyone with a little brain knew that a man who is pushing forty won't prolong his career for one more season. Arlo expected it, I expected it. The team made bets on it. "And with him, we lost a three-time World Champion. A legend, really." 

An overkill again. Martin Cantoni was a great driver, sure, wouldn't have been WDC three times if he wouldn't. But nothing extra special. Arlo kept him as the first driver only because he wanted to keep the pressure off Mason who had a hard time winning after we came back from the Covid break. Marty won his last championship six years ago. He was way past his peak. 

But this was only my ruthless thinking.

Arlo wanted to praise his work in Formula One and honour him the right way. Just like Cantoni’s name required. But not his personality or his recent achievements. Just his past. Which, truthfully, was quite unfair. We had to praise a grown man for some results he made six years ago and we were supposed to forget all of his recent mistakes and fuckups. Which we overlooked, for the sake of his fame and name. Quite pompous, if you ask me. 

I was getting tired of praising old white men for some work they did over a decade ago like their recent selves wouldn't even exist, just their old ones. Like they would have stayed in that form that deserved the hurray. Marty Cantoni turned more and more asshole after every lost point and every year that passed since his last won Championship. But according to some in this sport, he still deserved the respect.

I didn't think so. 

"But he is now serving his well-deserved break with his wife and children." Sure, after he didn't give a shit about said kids since they were born. Being an F1 driver and a father at the same time is hard for sure, but I have seen plenty of drivers who managed to juggle the two way better than Marty. He just didn't care about his kids. 

Couldn't say these out loud either. 

Be impartial. Be impartial. Don't judge. Don't judge. 

I just kept tabs. That was my forte. That was the reason I was where I was.  Being a quiet woman made me all-knowing. So when the time comes, I can finally throw out the quietness into the trash and make havoc. So they can hear me roar. 

Mason stole a glance at me while he pushed his soft and tousled curls out of his face. He knew my thoughts exactly. We have spent long nights talking about this and Mason’s sincere and fair opinion was that I should make a revealing public exposure on Youtube about the misogynist and fake world of Formula One as I was one of its primary victims. Truthfully, he was too, as the ex-team companion of a person who collected all those horrible traits. 

Throughout my life, I learned when to shut up. When it's correct to wait for the proper time and then lay all nasty stuff on the table. When you have the right amount of power and authority. Another way, you won't make any impact. They'll just brush aside your opinions if you don't have a steady place at the top. Being a Team Leader will open the gates of my tsunami of true statements. I will just have to wait to announce them properly. 

"And we have our Mason who I know will step up to his role and make us proud just as he did previously." Arlo gently pointed at Mason, giving him a shout-out basically. The smug grin appeared on my face again, but this time, filled with pride I felt over Mason. I stole a glance at him while he straightened out his back and a heartfelt smile formed on his lips. The one that made him even younger and more innocent. Wholesome, he was. "And I know that all of you were excited and anxious about the news of our second driver. We need to win Constructors this season and I believe we have a good shot too."

Winning the Constructors' Championship was all about prestige and in some ways, even more important than a Degrassi driver winning WDC, which is flashier, sure. At the end of each race, the top three finishers are up on the podium, wearing celebratory caps embroidered with gold laurels in place of actual laurels, grinning when they receive their trophies, and then spraying each other with champagne. But the Constructors’ Championship is overall a much bigger deal. Unlike in the NBA, the losing-est teams don’t receive an equivalent to the consolation prize of higher draft picks. In F1, the losing-est teams get next to nothing, while the teams at the top of the standings receive tens of millions of dollars to finance their updated car designs, and offer higher salaries to their drivers and top earners in the company.

It all comes down to money. Just as everything else in life. 

That is why both of our drivers need to get points and perform well. 

And that is why the sport needs strategists like me. Who prioritizes the team and not favours only one driver. Who sees the bigger picture and can calculate which outcome can be better for the team in the long haul. 

And I'm damn good at my job. 

I was. I was always told: don't count your chickens before they're hatched. But this time, damn, I was hatching in my mind for so long that I was pretty sure I was a goddamn oracle who saw the future. Like it already happened. 

Team Leader is my job now. It is. It is. 

Manifesting and visualizing my goals were just as important for me as the actual work I've done for the results. 

"I'm proud to announce that I've made a deal with a driver who will benefit all our goals." I've never seen Arlo this excited. Usually, he is much more neutral and professional. This must be the news of my lifetime. 

"We should make a bet on which F2 driver he managed to steal before Furia got their hands on them…" Mason slowly leaned closer to me and mumbled into my ear, quieter than a whisper. I chuckled. Furia Motorsport had the reputation for taking out Formula Two drivers or the last champion, into their junior team or bringing them on to be their reserve driver or second chair. 

It worked for them. But Arlo would never go for that. 

I think. 

Arlo was more into bringing in drivers from our junior team or even stealing off second drivers from their original teams. Drivers who are hungry for more and dying to succeed. To show exactly how much they are worth. 

I've made a huge list of potential candidates and I outlined full plans for each occurrence. I had to come prepared. I'd lost two whole nights of sleep to make those plans but I was ready for kingdom come. 

So nothing and no one could surprise me. 

Or so I believed. 

“After thorough consideration and discussion, we’ve finalised a multi-year contract with this driver who I know will deliver us some points, maybe a champion title as well. He is talented and fierce and he can bring new energy to our team. I believe in him and I hope you will too,” the introduction was getting too sentimental. I have never heard Arlo applaud someone this much to this big of an audience. Privately, he was affectionate, and keen to give compliments. But not loudly. This even sounded a little kiss-ass. 

Who wrapped Arlo around their finger this much? 

I let myself quickly glimpse over to Mason, who looked just as confused as me. The closed-off Arlo doing this big of a speech seemed so out of character. 

I've felt a storm coming. I tightened my fist around my chair’s armrest. I could handle stress. But I didn't prepare for this one.

“Please, let us all welcome… Two-time World Champion, Carter Agliardi!”

No. Fucking. Way.

I've tried extremely hard to keep my poker face on. Mason did so too. The rest of the room couldn't see how shocked we were. Or how outraged we were. Even if I felt rage fuming in my veins. Rage for Arlo, for Carter, for Marty who retired. And panic for Mason. 

Because Arlo didn't bring in Carter “the upcoming star of Formula One, a legend’s son” Agliardi to be a second driver. He was supposed to be our main one. Pushing Mason to the sidelines once again. 

And as the door cracked open again and the notorious figure’s shadow appeared on the floor, Arlo continued to talk. 

A sentence that crushed my entire season and shook my life to its core. 

"And his team leader will be… Our very own, Sullivan Meier." 

F. M. L. 

NOTE.

she is smug, she is cocky, and she is finally here!

sullivan meier in the house!

or... at the headquarters!

our sully's dream and expectations were quickly crushed by her team principal when he decided to bring in... yes, the carter agliardi, our other main character.

yes, this will be a cocky x cocky story. a grumpy x grumpy story. none of them are literal sunshines.

maybe just mason.

i hope this first chapter got your attention good, and you will be excited to read the next one!