Page 69 of Until The Lights Go Out

RACE WEEKEND FIVE - MIAMI GRAND PRIX

Igot to the paddock early enough that even the coffee hadn’t caught up with me yet—and that was saying something. But nothing could get me down today. Serena was due in about a half hour, and I was buzzing with excitement. It had been entirely too long since I’d seen her. With the last few weeks feeling way too hard and Theo making me want to scream off a mountain, I needed my best friend. Her chaotic and bright energy would do just the trick.

Race day always had a pulse to it, something electric that sat just beneath the surface of everything. Even before the engines fired, before the crowds fully settled, before the chaos tipped into full throttle—there was this quiet, buzzing anticipation. Like the whole place was holding its breath. Or it was just me. The world would never know.

“Okay,” I muttered to myself, balancing my tablet in one hand and my coffee in the other as I weaved through the garage, “act normal. You’re a professional. You do this every weekend.” It might have earned me a few looks, but honestly, they should have been used to me talking to myself at this point. It was all a part of my charm. I typed away on my tablet, making some notes for an interview segment with a few games requested by the PitSpark team. They wanted a mix of interview styles on the channel because the feedback from the last few had been great. Evan had practically flown at me this morning when I first got in, saying how his manager’s manager was blown away by the response and that everyone was a huge Maisey fan at corporate. I had been so flustered, I barely strung any coherent words together in response but let out an excited squeal as we jumped up and down. The page had officially hit half a million subscribers, and that alone felt unreal. I sat in the cafeteria for at least ten minutes refreshing the screen and convincing myself I was not, in fact, hallucinating. I had been managing the vlog segments and incorporating shorter clips onto other social platforms with help from one of the media marketing women at PitSpark, and apparently multiple videos had gone viral over the last two days.

“Girl, you better ask for a raise. Whatever they’re paying you, after this success, you need double!” Nicola cheered as she met me for a coffee.

“I think I’m in shock.” I shook my head as she sat down at the table on the outdoor patio. The sun was shining today as if it knew Serena was on her way.

“Theo giving you any shit?” she asked, brow raised.

“Nah, I’ve got it.”

“Well, I know you’ve got it. You’re badass as hell. But Theo can be a real asshole when he gets into his isolation and party modes. Yes, I know those are contradictory, but it’s like he flips a switch into a different human. He was like that a few years after he joined for a while too.”

“I hate that,” I sighed, hating to admit it, but hating more that he was hurting and had been hurting. It was so fucking clear to me. He used the playboy act like a shitty Band-Aid, falling into or playing up the image. I tried to remind myself of the Theo I knew, that he was still down there somewhere.

“Want me to yell at him for you?” Nicola asked me, side-eying me as she reapplied her classic red lipstick.

“If he stands me up again today, I will go down to wherever he is and drag him here myself. But honestly, that’s a later problem. Serena should be here in, like”—I looked down at my phone for the time—“twenty minutes!”

“I can’t wait to meet her!”

“She’s the coolest person to ever exist. Did you know she has in her contract that she only wears pink helmets?”

“Badass.”

“You’re smiling at your phone again,” Angel said as she passed me, glancing down. Nicola had to run back to the Moretti garage, and I was now headed to the Kaz garage to get a feel for the vibes of the day.

I blinked, realizing I was.

“Am I?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s unsettling.”

“It’s a good day.”

She raised a brow. “It’s always a good day for you. You’re, like, permanently happy.”

“My best friend is here.”

“That explains it,” she said immediately. “Should we be worried?”

“Yes,” I said. “Deeply.”

She laughed, shaking her head as she kept walking. “Can’t wait.”

I watched her go, a grin tugging at my mouth before I could stop it.

It had been so long since I’d seen Serena in person, months of late-night calls and voice notes and updates about testing sessions and near-misses and almosts.

And now she was here, in this world, my world—and hopefully her future world. She was so close I could feel it for her, like the next step was right there if she just pushed a little harder. The thought sent another wave of energy through me, sharp and bright. I checked the time again. Too early. Of course it’s too early.

I exhaled, forcing myself to refocus as I stepped into the PitSpark setup area. Screens were already being calibrated, producers moving around with headsets, the controlled pre-race chaos settling into place.

“Morning, Maisey,” one of the engineers called.