Page 140 of Hot Lap
Lap 51. They rocket down the main straight toward turn 1, Reece's car glued to Nico's gearbox. The DRS flap opens, and the slipstream pulls him closer, closer?—
They go side by side into the heavy braking zone.
Reece brakes later and dives to the inside. "I'm still here, mate."
Through the long right-hander of turns 2 to 3, he's ahead by a nose.
"Brilliant move, RP. Hold your line,” Misho says.
But Nico's not done. Two laps later, he uses DRS Zone 2 perfectly — the long straight from turn 7 to turn 8 — sliding past with surgical precision just before the marina section.
"Damn, he’s good," Reece mutters, already planning his next attack.
Lap 56. Another run down the main straight. Another DRS zone. Another chance. This time Reece waits, waits, then pullsalongside just before the turn 1 braking zone. They go wheel-to-wheel through the opening sequence, neither giving an inch.
Nico tries a move up the inside at turn 8, but runs wide through the marina chicane. Reece is through clean, retaking the lead.
The world champion isn’t finished though. With identical tire compounds, it comes down to pure skill and luck. Nico closes the gap again through sheer determination.
They enter the final lap and fly down the main straight one last time. DRS open. Nico pulls alongside, then edges ahead by half a car length.
Reece throws everything at it — perfect lines, late braking, wringing every hundredth of a second from the marina section, but the gap holds.
Nico crosses the line first with Reece right on his arse. Petra holds onto P3, but WolfBett still claims the Constructor's Championship. Just barely.
"P2, mate. Hell of a drive," Misho says.
Coy comes over the radio. “Racing doesn't get much closer than that. Well done, Reece. Brilliant driving.”
“Thanks to all of you,” he replies. “Couldn’t’ve done it without this amazing team behind me.”
Petra pulls alongside Reece and they wave to the fans as they circle the track together.
They roll intoparc fermébehind Nico. Reece pulls off his gloves and helmet, sweat-soaked and vibrating with adrenaline.
He didn’t win. But, Christ, they fought like hell. The celebration happening in the PNW Nitro garage proves it. They’ll be back next season, hungrier than ever.
The moment he climbs out of the car, relief hits him. The cockpit gets so bloody hot it’s like driving a sauna. He peels off his gloves, yanks free the helmet, HANS, and balaclava, and takes a long breath of not-quite-fresh air.
Maiken is at the barrier, smile brighter and more beautiful than the fireworks exploding overhead. Seeing her hits him harder than any podium celebration ever could. She's here. She stayed. She chose him and this ridiculous marriage and the chaos that comes with this life. For that, Reece will give her the sun, the moon, and the stars.
He winks at her and touches his heart.
She mirrors the gesture.
Petra slaps him on the back as she joins him at the scale for weigh-in. “Could’ve used a wider arse back there. You didn’t block Belmonte hard enough.” They dap-hug, same as they always have.
“Thought you liked looking at his arse.” Reece steps on and off the scale for the FIA official.
She rolls her eyes. “Not when it’s in front of me on the track.”
Nico is already surrounded by cameras. He gives Reece a chin tip that carries the weight of respect earned over a decade of competition. Reece nods back.
In the cooldown room, they stow their helmets, then put on their race caps and down more water. Reece drops into the middle seat and exhales. Nico tosses him a sideways glance.
“Thought I had you there,” Reece mutters.
Nico nods. “You did. More than once.”
