On the first night in Catalonia, Dominik and Albon arrived at the agreed-upon restaurant. Capito and a group of technicians were already there. Seeing so many people, Dominik immediately felt a bit flustered.
"Is it okay to make all the staff wait for us two for so long?" Dominik asked Albon.
Fortunately, Albon explained that it was a kind of unwritten rule: when a new driver joined a new team, everyone in the team had to wait for the driver to make their final appearance before the welcome ceremony could begin.
The two took their seats, and a series of Spanish delicacies like jamón ibérico and paella began to be served. After Capito, on behalf of all the team's technicians, welcomed the two drivers, the Spanish welcome dinner officially began.
Everyone raised their champagne glasses, jointly welcoming the Thai driver Albon and the youngest Hungarian prodigy in the paddock, Dominik Corvinus.
The meal was very enjoyable. Towards the end, colleagues who knew each other well sat together chatting, while Dominik's solitary figure appeared somewhat dejected. "Darn it, Hanna has influenced me; I'm actually a little unaccustomed to not having someone chattering beside me." Just as Dominik was about to pull out his phone to retort to Hanna, Gaëtan Jego sat down next to him.
"Kid, off the track, you can be good friends with anyone, but on the track, it's a different story."
Dominik looked into Gaëtan Jego's eyes, following his gaze, and saw Albon sitting there, chatting with some technicians around him.
"Our main competitors are still other teams, right?" Dominik asked, slightly puzzled, voicing the doubt in his heart.
"Apart from mid-season upgrades, your cars will mostly be on the same starting line. If you can't beat other drivers, you can say it's a car problem or a tire management problem. But if you consistently can't beat your teammate, then it's a problem with your own skill level."
For the first time, Gaëtan Jego sat beside Dominik and poured his heart out, explaining some paddock rules to this 19-year-old kid.
Previously, Dominik thought that the infighting between Hamilton and Rosberg at Mercedes in 2016 was a rare occurrence in only a few teams. He hadn't expected to be told these things by a senior before even participating in a race. It seemed that after his previous F2 engineer left, he would also have a race engineer who would teach him real skills.
"Thank you, Gaëtan. I thought teammates would be relatively harmonious," Dominik said, genuinely grateful.
"That's when there are clear first and second drivers. Mr. Capito and I often watch replays of your races. I can secretly tell you that Mr. Capito hasn't officially determined who among the two of you will be the first or second driver." Gaëtan's words left Dominik dumbfounded.
This also meant that if he could fulfill the potential that Williams saw in promoting him in the first few races, then it was very likely that the team's resources would be tilted towards him in the mid-to-late part of the season.
In the dark night, the sky over Catalonia was like thick ink, shrouding Dominik's thoughts.
It wasn't until the next day that Dominik was woken up by his alarm clock. Today was the first day of winter testing at Catalonia, and he would meet many F1 drivers—and some who were still waiting for their chance.
Getting up, washing up, and getting dressed seamlessly, he walked into the hotel restaurant and spotted a familiar figure—George Russell.
But Russell wasn't wearing a race suit. He was dressed in the kit of a Mercedes reserve driver.
"George," Dominik greeted him with a polite nod as he approached the buffet.
Russell turned, his expression tightening the moment he saw Dominik. There was no smile, no congratulatory handshake. The air between them instantly cooled.
"Corvinus," Russell replied, his voice clipped. He glanced at the Williams branding on Dominik's shirt—the branding that everyone, including Russell, had assumed would be on his chest this year. "Enjoying the team kit? I hear they had to tailor it down quite a bit."
"It fits well enough," Dominik replied calmly, sensing the bitterness radiating from the Brit.
Russell took a step closer, lowering his voice so only Dominik could hear. "You know, Capito and I had discussions for months. That seat was all but signed. Then you swoop in with your... backing." He let out a scoff. "Just a piece of advice, rookie: Getting the seat is the easy part. Keeping it when you're in over your head? That's the hard part. Don't get too comfortable."
"I don't plan to get comfortable," Dominik met his gaze evenly. "I plan to be fast."
Russell let out a humorless laugh. "We'll see. The stopwatch doesn't lie."
Before Russell could say anything else, Zhou Guanyu appeared with a plate of Spanish breakfast, beaming. "Dominik! Good morning! And George, good to see you!"
Zhou's arrival cut the tension like a knife. Russell immediately straightened up, masking his hostility with a polite, media-trained smile. "Good to see you, Zhou. Good luck out there today."
Russell gave Dominik one last lingering look—a look that promised he would be watching every mistake—before walking away to join the Mercedes engineers.
Zhou didn't seem to notice the friction, but Dominik felt it deeply. He realized now that Russell wasn't just a peer; he was a wolf waiting at the door. If Dominik faltered, Russell would be the first one trying to claw that seat back.
Dominik now realized that the F1 paddock and the F2 paddock were fundamentally no different. It was just that most F1 drivers competed secretly, while the sharks without seats circled openly.
After breakfast, the three took the shuttle bus to the Circuit de Barcelona-Catalunya.
The shuttle bus drove through the pit lane. The three got off at their respective garages. Gaëtan Jego was already at the engineer's station, making the final adjustments to the car data.
Dominik looked up at the garage with his car number printed on it, walked inside, and after greeting Gaëtan and the working technicians, he saw the deep blue Williams FW44 car with "45" printed on it. However, he didn't stop but walked straight into the lounge behind to change clothes.
After skillfully putting on the sweat-wicking inner layer and the fireproof racing suit, he walked from the lounge into the garage and saw Capito arriving. After Dominik greeted him, Capito walked over and told Dominik to do a long-run test today.
Dominik kept the team principal's words in mind. Essentially, a driver is also a tool, just the most important tool in the team.
Dominik sat into the FW44 car. Albon also walked into Williams' garage, giving Dominik a slight smile before walking to his own car.
Time passed minute by minute. The Catalonia Circuit was about to be filled with roaring sounds. The vehicle information computer in front of Dominik was taken away, and he put on his helmet.
Dominik looked at the timetable next to him. There were less than five minutes until the earliest release time. He closed his eyes, the image of Russell's cold stare burning in his mind, fueling his focus.