Signing On The Dotted Line 2: Trampos Racing

Packing up was easy for Luca—he only had one bag. But his mind was anything but settled. Thoughts raced wildly, and Harry's non-stop chatter faded into the background as Luca tried to process everything. He still couldn't quite believe it—he wasn't just leaving town; he was leaving the country. A month ago, he never would have imagined something like this. Now, he was on the verge of becoming an official F2 racer, with the dream of F1 looming on the horizon.

Fortunately, thanks to the influence of Grey-Husson and the F2 teams, they were able to secure a flight for the same day. An evening flight had been available, which was perfect timing.

After packing, Luca sat on the edge of his bed, lost in thought, only half-listening to Harry, who was buzzing with excitement. And why wouldn't he be? His offer had listed a salary of $50,500—close to Luca's. That was a crazy amount of money for someone their age to make per year.

Luca wondered what his life would be like after this. Traveling from country to country, racing at different circuits—it would be a whirlwind. And he had his System to guide him through it all. He chuckled to himself. God bless the car that hit me. It had been a strange stroke of fate that brought him here. In fact, I did well by stepping close to the track, he muttered in his mind.

His gaze drifted toward the window, where SUVs were parked outside, and scouts and team officials were making their exit. The 14-day course had officially come to an end. Most of the single-seaters would either be stored or refurbished, though a few were heading out for personal use. As promised, Miles Bellingham's face was now prominently displayed on the fourth stand of the circuit—his smug smile beaming beneath a white racing suit.

Even though Luca's System assured him he had won, he still wished for a more public acknowledgment of his victory. Sure, the level-up was all that truly mattered for his progress, but it would have been cool to have his face brandished on the stands instead of Miles Bellingham's. That nagging feeling of incompleteness lingered, especially when it came to Isabella. Luca felt embarrassed even thinking about asking her for her number, knowing the chances of seeing her again were slim. If he had truly "won," maybe Mr. Schafer would endorse him, and Isabella would become a regular fixture in his new racing life.

He sighed, glancing at the telephone on the bedside table, debating whether to call his mom. She was probably at work, but he knew she'd scream with excitement when she heard about the figures he had been offered. But the thought quickly faded—he didn't even have the money in his account yet... if he had an account.

Luca groaned inwardly, realizing just how much he had to figure out about being an adult and a professional racer.

By 4 p.m., evening approached quickly, and a knock at their door signaled that it was time to go.

Outside, three cabs waited by the fountain, ready to take the seven select racers who had completed the course. Luca tried to act like he didn't care, but he had heard that Miles had arranged for a more prestigious form of transport. These taxis, it seemed, were for the rest of them.

With their bags loaded, Luca and Harry slumped into the backseat of one of the taxis, while Mallow took the passenger seat. The cab's engine hummed to life, its tires kicking up a light spray of dust as they rounded the beautiful courthouse and headed toward the gate.

Harry quickly pulled out his Game Boy, eyes glued to the screen. Luca, having none, simply stared out the window, watching the scenery blur by. It felt like hours before they finally arrived at the same airport he had flown into from London. Stepping out of the taxi, the weight of this new chapter in his life settled in, heavier than his luggage.

Mallow had made it clear during the taxi ride that Luca and Harry would be flying solo. He had some arrangements to handle and wouldn't be on their flight, but promised he'd arrive early the next morning for the contract signing. Luca felt his stomach twitch after that, the thought of flying alone bothered him.

"I think this is it, right?" Harry said with his arms apart once they made it to the airport, the bustling activity behind them.

Luca chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, next time I see you, it'll be on the track—on opposite sides," he said with a grin, exchanging a firm handshake and a shoulder nudge with Harry. Harry's destination was Spain, a world away from Luca's team in Germany.

"I'll see you brother."

"Same."

Luca watched as Harry walked off toward another terminal, one bag slung over his shoulder. Mallow had handed them both a detailed sheet of paper with step-by-step instructions on what to do once they arrived.

"Don't get lost, Luca. You're eighteen," Mallow said with a thumbs up, as if he had done something like this before.

Luca shivered a little as he boarded his flight. The sky had deepened to a midnight blue, the plane's soft ambient lighting giving the cabin a calming glow. Once they were airborne, Luca couldn't help but nod off to sleep, the exhaustion of the day catching up to him.

"Cab, Kreuzberg, Oranienstraße, motel," Luca mumbled, staring at the paper Mallow gave him after he woke. He tucked the paper back into his pocket as the plane touched down smoothly.

A cab was easy to find, and Luca was relieved that the driver understood English well. The ride to the district Mallow had directed him to seemed long, though he wasn't sure if it was the constant drifting in and out of sleep that made it feel that way.

His tired eyes couldn't offer him a proper view of Germany, especially in the darkness. The warm glow of the streetlights flickered across his face as they approached Oranienstraße. When they arrived, Luca handed the driver some of his own currency, unsure if it would be accepted. To his surprise, the grubby man took it without hesitation, wishing him a goodnight in a thick German accent.

Luca stood in the middle of the quiet street, eyes fixed on the only building nearby. He glanced left and right instinctively, even though the road was empty, before crossing to the other side and heading toward the property.

He felt a pang of uncertainty. Mallow hadn't even given him a key, and Luca wasn't sure if the motel was already paid for. For a few minutes, he stood there, feeling like a lost traveler. Just as he was contemplating his next move, a door of the motel creaked open, and an elderly woman appeared.

She moved slowly toward Luca, her posture hunched, and silently handed him a key, pointing at one of the doors without saying a word.

Luca quickly put in a "thank you" as loud and as polite as he could. Clutching the key, he made his way to the door she had indicated and unlocked it.

The door creaked open into a pitch-dark room. Luca fumbled for the light switch, shutting the door behind him to block out the faint hum of a generator outside.

Flick

The lighting was dim, but visibly enough for a small room. It had a single bed with rough looking but clean sheets, a wooden desk and a stool, finished by thin curtains. The only decor was a single framed picture of a German countryside. "Smells kinda like vinegar," he muttered, dropping onto the bed.

To his surprise, the bed was soft, and the pillow even softer. He kept telling himself to undress and unpack better, but sleep overtook him almost immediately, pulling him into a deep slumber as his eyes shut.

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Bam Bam Bam

The knock on Luca's door reverberated through the small room, jolting him awake at 7 am. The Formula 1 System had already suspended today's Daily Routine, likely sensing the change of location and the absence of a nearby gym. Luca had been savoring every second of his sleep, but the relentless knocking snapped him back to reality.

Groggily, he wiped the drool from his lips and shuffled to the door. When he opened it, Mallow stood before him, accompanied by a blonde woman Luca recognized but couldn't place immediately.

"Are you ready for today, Luca?" Mallow's voice cut through the sleepy atmosphere as he marched inside, followed closely by the woman. She was Sara, Mr. Vance's now former secretary.

"Good morning," Luca greeted them both, rubbing his eyes as he shut the door behind them. "I'm ready—well, almost. Just need to actually get ready." He paused, eyeing Sara curiously, tall, fair and blonde, dressed in a sharp black blouse. "What's she doing so far here?"

"Sara Tadheart will be your personal manager and assistant. I'm sure you understand what that means," Mallow said, introducing her formally.

"I'm glad to take this job, Luca. I'll handle and satisfy all your personal needs exceptionally," Sara said with a firm nod and a confident smile.

"Oh," Luca muttered, still processing. "That's... nice. Thank you. I'll try to keep you in the loop with my plans."

Mallow clapped his hands together, rubbing them briskly as he glanced out the window toward the car he had arrived in. "Get dressed, kiddo," he said.

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Soft murmur of voices hummed in the background of the room, punctuated by the relentless clicking of cameras. Bright flashes of light flickered against the high table where Luca's contract rested, the emblem of the sponsors of Trampos Racing designed on white curtains behind the seats.

Once Luca and Mallow entered the room, the murmur grew louder, buzzing with anticipation. All eyes turned to him, the atmosphere thickening. Luca approached the table, where the Trampos Racing President, Ralf Fisher, the team principal, Lucas Grant, and the head of engineering, Sandra Moritz were standing. He gave each of them firm handshakes, the constant popping of cameras slightly disorienting him.

Mallow shook them as well with smiles as Luca sat down, the sleek chair squeaking slightly beneath him. The contract was spread across the polished surface of the table, with a pen next to it. Luca grasped the pen and studied the details of the contract, although it had already been stated before.

He looked up at the key figures of the team he was about signing into. The team principal, Lucas Grant bothered him with his stern eyes as if sizing his potential in the team. Luca shifted his gaze to Mallow, who casually took a seat next to him. Mallow nodded assuringly and motioned he continue.

Alright.

Luca hovered the pen over the signature line, feeling the weight of the moment. In one fluid motion, he pressed the nib to the paper, signing his name in bold, black ink. He had literally made up a signature there and then.

Immediately, Mr. Fisher slid the contract toward himself and finalized the contract by sealing it with his own signature. He motioned for Luca's hand, and Luca stood up instinctively, accepting the handshake. "Welcome to the team," he said approvingly with a gruff tone.

"Thank you," Luca replied with a smile, turning his face to the cameras as the room erupted with bright flashes.

After a series of handshakes, Luca and Mallow stood with the Trampos Racing management for press pictures. Luca couldn't believe this was happening to him right now. His eyes were almost blinded by the camera flashes as he forced himself to maintain his smile.

[Ding!]

[Mission Completed!]

[Host has attained his first professional contract.]

[Ding!]

[System Unlocking Activity Panel...]

[Activity Panel Unlocked]

[System Commencement In Progress...]

[System Activity Commenced!]

[Do you accept Intermediate Bundle?]

[Y / N]