The following morning after the race was a dream come true for Nico. His second place at the F4 trial had stunned expectations, but as he looked around the paddock, he was aware of the gravity of challenges that lay ahead. The scouts were observing, and the pressure of remaining in F4 was already on his shoulders.
Vincent met him at the pit lane gate, his expression unreadable. Nico saw that his mentor was weighing the happenings of the day before during the tryout.
"Good work yesterday," Vincent said, speaking in measured tones. "You showed us what you can do, but that's just the beginning. The competition has really just started."
Nico nodded, but his stomach was tightening into knots. He'd always coped with karting pressure, but F4 was a whole new beast. The faster cars, the harder tracks, and the opposition—well, the opposition wasn't friendly. He hadn't yet won.
"I know," Nico said, trying to keep his voice firm. "I won't quit."
"That's good," Vincent said. "But don't think it's going to get any easier. The next few months are going to push you to limits you can't even imagine. You'll be tested on all levels. You'll have to be faster, smarter, and more consistent than you ever have before. This is the big time now."
Nico's stomach protested, but he pushed the sensation aside. He had progressed too far to allow doubt in now.
The following weeks would be occupied with training sessions, practice races, and fitness training. F4 was not only about speed—it was about strategy, precision, and mental fortitude. Nico had always relied on his instincts on the racing track, but he knew he would have to sharpen every driving skill of his if he was to match up with the best.
Vincent introduced Nico to the F4 mechanics and engineers that day. Nico's new machine was having its latest upgrades fitted—the latest suspension modifications, tire selection, and aerodynamics adjustments that would allow him to drive at a higher performance level. The car was fast, but it required a finesse approach that blended aggression and control, and Nico would need to learn how to manage that level of power.
The pressure mounted by the day. The Dupont twins, Lukas, and the rest of the F4 series drivers were no longer rivals; they were benchmarks to which Nico would have to aspire to, lap by lap, race by race.
But it was not just the competition that weighed on him. With every passing day at the circuit, Nico could feel the eyes of the F4 sponsors and media on his every move. Every race, every practice session in the limelight. The weight of expectation to perform was oppressive, and Nico could not escape it.
During a late-night training session, Nico found himself at the track alone, the floodlights casting long shadows across the asphalt. His car sat at the starting grid, engines idling, waiting for him. The sound of the engine filled the air as he slid into the driver's seat. He gripped the wheel, his mind racing.
"You've got this," he whispered to himself, trying to calm the storm inside.
The early laps were a blur of concentration and instinct. He was just thinking of the car, which was making its way through the track, the rhythm of the race. But as laps ticked by, his thoughts wandered. He thought about his family, his journey from karting to F4, and all that had happened. But each such consideration was followed by the recollection of the weight of responsibility that rested on him.
The second lap, Nico drove too aggressively into the final turn. His car spun out wide, and he had to overcorrect. He tried to regain control but the car was off the track and into the gravel. Nico slammed his fist onto the steering wheel in anger with himself. He had gotten so caught up in the stress that he forgot the most important thing—staying earthed.
He let out a deep breath, killing the engine. Seated in the car, he closed his eyes for a moment, composure collecting. It was never about proving it to them—about proving it to himself. He had the talent. He had the desire. But he couldn't continue to let pressure get the best of him.
A voice broke his concentration. He was going too hard, Vincent screamed from the pit wall.
Nico did not look up, but he knew Vincent was right. "I know. I just. I feel the pressure. Everything is getting so much,"
Vincent came over, his footsteps steady and strong. He leaned against the car, his expression easy. "The pressure will never dissipate, Nico. It's inherent to the sport. What you need to work on is how you handle it. You can't let it consume you. Utilize it. Make it something that energizes your play, not something that drags you down."
Nico nodded slowly, taking in Vincent's words. "I'll keep that in mind."
The next few days were spent in more rigorous training. Nico strained once more, but this time he practiced finding the equilibrium—driving by intent, not desperation. He spent countless hours in the simulator, practicing his technique, studying his laps, and even picking up on his mistakes. Every session was a learning session, and Nico found himself feeling more at ease in the F4 car.
But it wasn't just the training that was pushing him. Rounding one of the practice laps, Lukas Müller drifted up alongside Nico, hitting the final turn. He looked at Nico—cool, calculated, and somehow too tidy. Nico always knew Lukas was on top of his game, but there was something in his look that made him nervous.
As they made the last turn, Lukas elbowed Nico aside, pulling ahead in the last seconds of the race. Nico crossed the line a fraction behind him, his head spinning. He had come so close—so close to beating Lukas, but not quite close enough.
Later, in the pit, Lukas approached Nico, his expression unreadable. "You've got potential," Lukas said, his voice surprisingly neutral. "But you're not there yet. Keep pushing. Don't let the competition get the best of you."
Nico didn't reply immediately. The words stung, but they also fueled the fire inside him. Lukas wasn't going to give him an inch—and neither should he.
The mounting pressure was always there, but it was also hardening Nico as a driver. He wasn't racing anymore for himself but for his future, for the opportunity to prove that he was where he was supposed to be in F4's world.
And with each successive day, the pressure was making him more determined