My Formula 1 System

5 p.m. in Parco Di Monza, Monza, Italy— all fifteen Formula 2 teams arrived with their fleet of trucks, consisting of car carriers and engineering trucks alone. A simple event like the qualifying session didn't require as much inventory as a full race.

The circuit itself was quiet, stretching as far and wide as it could with empty grandstands. However, the outside of the circuit—the surrounding locations of the park—was far from quiet and empty.

Many people had gathered in numbers that were surprising for just a qualifying activity. Even though they wouldn't be let anywhere near the streets leading to the circuit, just the idea of being close to the action and even hearing the roar of the engines was thrilling.

Additionally, there were screens set up to broadcast the qualifying session. So, everyone was taking their seats under the mellow blue sky.

After finishing his second-best playlist, Luca cracked his neck, ready to compete. He saved his best playlist for Saturday, when every action he would make in the race would be emphasized by the beats and bass his mind would be playing.

"What if I get pole?" Haas asked Luca as they made finishing touches to their racing gear, ready to head out to the garage.

Luca huffed, realizing it was quite possible if fate turned out that way. "That's not even the hard part," he said, zipping up and making sure his Velcro straps were strapped shut. "The hard part would be keeping it on Saturday. I mean, 75 laps, mannn."

"True," Haas answered, finishing up before Luca, like always. He grabbed the row of glucose on the bench and licked off just one pack.

Luca, on the other hand, licked three packs.

He needed unreal energy today if he wanted to get pole and begin the Italian Mega Prix with a head start. Max and Mr. Lugo's words from the conference event yesterday had really stung, and he hoped to put their faces in the mud this evening.

The first part was already done—the part where he clutched it late, blindsiding his rivals who had pinned their hopes on the doping accusation knocking him out of competition. Now, it was time for the second part.

Max had denied it, though. He rejected the journalists' assumptions that he would have enjoyed seeing Luca miss the Italian Mega Prix.

He went on to explain that he wasn't interested in defeating an opponent in the paddock. He explained that he wanted to cross the checkered flag first, stand on his Dallara, and glare down at Luca as he walked past, head lowered in defeat.

Luca didn't flinch when Max said this. In fact, he found the vividness amusing. He smiled.

Miles, on the other hand, made no effort to hide his thoughts. He openly admitted that he had wished for Luca's absence, because it would've improved his chances of winning both the race and the championship. Typical Miles Bellingham; very low on emotional intelligence, always blurting out whatever was on his mind.

Aaronson took a different approach. He feigned neutrality, claiming it made no difference to him whether Luca had been suspended or not.

But then he threw in a remark that stirred the room: he doubted the legitimacy of the tests and suggested a retake after the race because he still wasn't convinced Luca was clean.

That was the funniest thing Luca had heard all day. He let out a quiet chuckle, the same chuckle that accidentally broadcasted into his mic. It was enough for Curt Wallace to pounce, shifting the attention onto him.

"You find Sean's claims amusing?" Wallace asked with a very sharp and eager tone.

Aaronson, already bracing for a quarrel, leaned forward. "Yes, please answer—what's so funny?"

Luca didn't hold back. With his arms folded, he shrugged. And then, with a single sentence, he shattered the calm demeanor Aaronson had been trying to maintain all day.

"You," Luca answered simply. "Your insecurity and paranoia that I'm such a good driver you can't even believe it."

The press conference went on break for twenty minutes after that.

This was why Luca needed to fuel himself with as much energy as possible. He had just escalated this competition to another level after that press conference, and not just with his rival drivers, but with rival Team Principals as well. Mr. Lugo, for instance, was now a direct enemy.

Luca had outright refused to shake Lugo's hand for the official photo to mark the day.

Luca could defend himself for doing that whenever and wherever. Mr. Lugo badmouthed him on screen, saying "*scoffs* I hear teens do drugs a lot these days. This is no surprise, don't you think?" Then he laughed with the interviewer.

That laugh was nowhere to be found when Luca ignored his extended hand and moved to stand beside Mr. Grant instead.

Not that Lugo had relished the idea of shaking hands with the driver who had given him hell all season—he had only reluctantly offered out of formality. And Luca just made him regret and wonder why he offered it in the first place.

Luca preferred that the rivalry had to be open and official.

[SYNCHRONIZING HOST....]

[SYNCHRONIZATION COMPLETE]

[Host is now synced with Dallara (F2 04)]

**Last qualifying activity for the season. Let's make it count!**

**Yes!** Haas replied exuberantly from his Dallara, while Luca remained silent, rolling his own car out onto the track.

For a moment, he slipped into Haas' perspective, putting himself in his shoes, trying to understand what it felt like to be in his position. It only took seconds for Luca to grasp it, and if he was being honest, he felt a little jealous.

Right now in the competition, Haas and a handful of other drivers were free, rival-less, unburdened, with no real stakes. For them, this final race was nothing more than a formality, a filler in their careers.

Any driver feeling genuinely happy at this moment was likely sitting in P10 or below. The rest? They were either still in the hunt for the championship, fighting for a top-five accreditation, or aiming for the modest bonuses that came with a top-ten finish in the standings.

Luca sighed as he took P24, lining up behind Haas, who was at P3.

Unfortunately, the grid was structured alphabetically again, but this time by the team's name. So, T for Trampos pushed Luca far back, while E for Erik positioned Haas ahead of him.

The grid lights flashed on and disappeared moments later. It was time to chase the fastest lap on one of the toughest circuits in history.

Speeding through the Serpeggiare was no easy feat, not with its disastrous turns that punished recklessness. The key to securing the fastest lap wasn't outright speed but maintaining a steady, consistent pace and capitalizing on the four rare straights.

But even that was a challenge with so many drivers cluttering the field, causing traffic at every corner.

Some began weaving aggressively, trying to create space for themselves before the 30-minute timer ran out. What started as simple positioning soon evolved into soft duels, and before long, those duels intensified as everyone fought for clear track space from start to finish.

The top drivers were the most entangled in these battles. They were forced to split their focus into finding space for their own flying laps while simultaneously blocking their rivals from doing the same.@@novelbin@@

And they let it consume them. Luca had barely gotten a clean run, with Max Addams glued to him at every turn, and he still hadn't set a lap time close to Oliver Kristensen's best so far.

The numbers didn't look promising for Trampos—or even their rival teams. When the 30 minutes expired, none of the title contenders—Luca, Max, Miles, or even Aaronson—made it into the top three.

Not even the top five.

None of them would start in P1 through P5!

**It's alright. We tried our best** Mr. Ruben assured as Luca coasted his Dallara to their garage.

[Activity completed]

[Fastest Lap: 1:51.662]

"What did I make?" Luca asked.

**P7**

P1—Oliver Kristensen

P2—Benjamin Taubert

P3—James Legrasse

P4—Albert Derstappen

P5—Dani Walding

P6—Miles Bellingham

P7—Luca Rennick

P8—Max Addams

P9—Sean Aaronson

P10—Erik Haas

Those watching from around the park groaned in frustration. This kind of grid didn't scream excitement for a race like the finale!

How could the top four contenders start in order from P6 to P9? From this setup, it'd definitely give those above a better chance because Luca and co would battle themselves at the midfield, giving those in P5 and above milliseconds to widen their gap.

Luca removed his helmet as he came out of his car.

He wasn't thrilled with P7, but as long as his rivals hadn't outqualified him significantly, he could live with it.

Still, his eyes lingered on Dani Walding in P5. That placement might not seem like much now, but with Haas down in P10, if the F2 Italian Mega Prix ended in this order, Velocità would clinch the Teams' Championship—even if Luca walked away with the Drivers' title.