Page 59 of Until The Lights Go Out

RACE WEEKEND FOUR - BAHRAIN GRAND PRIX

The Theo that I got a glimpse of the first race weekend was long gone by the fourth weekend. I had remembered Serena warning me, saying he was known as a reckless playboy and that I needed to mentally prepare for that. But when I got here, he was rather easy to talk to again—nice, even. It was easy to forget all about our history, about how he had broken my heart. How he didn’t show up after the crash when he was the only one I wanted. I thought I knew him—that there was more under the surface, something real, something that still belonged to us. That was my mistake.

Now he was back to disappearing from interviews, showing up late—or not at all—smelling like alcohol even hours after the night should’ve ended, laughing too loudly with the wrong people, and leaving just enough evidence behind for the media to have a field day with it. Socials were blowing up that Chaos Party Theo was back in business, and the buzz around the garage was that the team was not happy about it. On top of that, he had been qualifying lower than his usual stats and not getting podium finishes. And for some reason, it bothered me more than it should have. If Theo wanted to mess with his reputation and not be taken seriously, who was I to care?

“Maisey?”

I blinked, dragging myself back into the present. The garage was loud. My tablet was still open in front of me, strategy models frozen where I’d stopped paying attention.

“Sorry,” I said quickly, refocusing. “Say that again?”

Tom gave me a look but didn’t comment. “We’re recalculating degradation after the last session. Temps are higher than expected, so it’s shifting our projected window.”

“Right,” I nodded, stepping closer. “Show me.”

He angled the screen toward me, and I leaned in, immediately slipping back into the rhythm of it. Numbers, patterns, probability. This I could control. This made sense.

“If they push early, they’re going to burn through the rears too fast,” I said, tapping the graph. “They’ll have to defend instead of attack.”

“That’s what we’re thinking,” he agreed.

“Then we adjust the messaging,” I said. “Frame it as intentional. Tire preservation, long game.”

He smirked slightly. “You’re getting good at this. Just wanted your take. Ever thought about working on a team instead of being a commentator?”

“I’ve never really thought about it… I like the data,” I smiled, letting the thought sink in. I did have the experience, but being a strategist on a team was something I never thought of. It tugged at my heart a little before I thanked Tom and went back to my notes for the next segment.

“PitSpark wants you in ten,” one of the producers called from across the garage.

“Got it,” I said, already moving. The interview block was already behind schedule, which meant one thing. “He didn’t show?” I asked, trying to keep my tone neutral as I flipped through the run sheet.

The producer gave me a tight smile. “We’re…adjusting.”

Of course we are.

“Do we have confirmation he’s coming at all?” I pressed.

A pause.

Then, “We’re working on it.” There had been two races where Theo refused to do one-on-one interviews. I exhaled slowly, nodding, trying to remind myself to stay professional, but at this point, it pissed me off. Not only because he was making my job harder, but because some part of me still expected better.

Which was ridiculous. I knew exactly who he was. The tabloids and rumors were true. What I saw that night—the hints of old Theo—was just a fluke. He didn’t care anymore. Of course he didn’t. He was free now, to drive fast and make money without the commanding grip of his father. From what I had gathered, after his first year in F1, his father was not involved or around. One person had hinted that Mr. Bauer was banned from the paddock. That had made a million questions swirl around in my head.

“Maisey,” someone called. “We’ve got Sebastian if you want to grab him instead.” That stopped me. Sebastian—he could help.

I hesitated for half a second, then nodded. “Yeah. I’ll take him.”

If anyone could get Theo to show up, it was him.

When I found Sebastian just outside the Kaz garage, phone pressed to his ear, expression somewhere between amused and exasperated, I let out a sigh of relief, hoping this would work.

“—no, I don’t care what time he got in,” he was saying. “He’s still got obligations. Yes. I know. I’m handling it.”

He hung up as soon as he saw me, already sighing.

“Please tell me you’re here for literally anything other than him,” he said.

I crossed my arms. “That bad?”