Scene: Vaayu GP Admin Meeting — Tokyo Hotel Conference Room, Next Morning
The morning sun streamed harshly through the high-rise windows, casting long shadows over the hastily arranged conference table. Coffee cups steamed beside scattered folders. A tension buzzed in the air that even caffeine couldn't cut.
Raghav Satyanarayan, still in yesterday's suit but freshly shaven, stood at the head of the table. His arms were crossed, his mind still replaying the conversation from the night before.
Around him sat the team's core figures:
— Coach Arne Schultz, leaning back with arms folded, skeptical eyes watching.
— Siddharth, head engineer, with data tablets and budget printouts spread in front of him.
— Maya Rathee, the team's financial officer, calculating and composed.
— Rina Patel, PR and Media Liaison, scrolling anxiously through her phone.
> Raghav: "We need to talk numbers. Real ones. Not the optimistic projections. Where do we stand?"
Maya slid a few documents across the table. "Without external funding, we're looking at scraping by for two more races with full upgrades. After that — only partial development unless we cut simulator hours or delay component testing."
> Arne frowned. "Cutting the testings at this stage means Sukhman walks into Monza blind. That's total suicide."
Siddharth nodded grimly. "Even our base chassis is showing wear. And we've delayed the wind tunnel upgrade twice already. If the rain hadn't hit Tokyo, we wouldn't have scored at all."
> Rina, glancing up: "Media's loving our story. But one DNF and we'll go from comeback heroes to flukes overnight."
Raghav exhaled. The room felt heavier with every word.
> Maya, quieter now: "And we still haven't paid the second installment on the European freight contract. Logistics is on hold for the next leg unless something changes... drastically."
There was a silence.
Arne broke it.
> "So what's the play, Raghav? You brought us back, brought this team back from last years tragedy from the dead. But if there's no engine to run on, the dream stops here."
Raghav was silent for a beat. Then:
> Raghav: "Last night… someone came to me. Offered full backing. Title sponsorship."
Everyone sat up.
> Maya: "From where?"
> Raghav: "Didn't say."
A long pause.
> Rina: "Like Torus Racing incident?"
That name turned the room colder than the air conditioning.
> Siddharth: "Are you serious? That nearly brought the whole sport down. You said no… r... right?"
Raghav nodded.
> "Of course I did. We're not selling our soul for trivial survival."
> Arne, angered by the remark: "You say trivial? That soul doesn't mean much if the car can't finish the season."
Rina looked up from her phone. "And if word gets out someone approached us… even if we said no… the media will twist it for breaking news."
Maya pushed her glasses up, her tone measured.
> "I respect the call, Raghav. But we need to find another option — soon. Quiet investors. Legacy partners. Something. Anything."
Raghav finally sat down, steepling his fingers.
> "We do this right. Clean. Transparent. We need to keep fighting. We need to trust on our drivers... specially on Sukhman. If we fall… we fall on our own terms."
There was a moment of collective breath. Heavy, but shared.
> Arne: "Then we need to prep for Monza. With whatever we've got left."
> Maya: "I'll trim the travel budget. See if we can defer supplier payments another week."
> Siddharth: "And I'll push out the new diffuser test to race week." He mumbles to himself, "Lag raha hai jugard karna padega." ("It seems like I need to do some cheap creativity.")
The meeting ended not with cheer — but with resolve.
As they filtered out, Raghav remained at the table, staring at the empty chair the stranger could have occupied had he said yes.
He picked up the Torus Racing news article still folded in his folder.
Headline: "Torus Racing Collapse Triggers IRC Financial Reforms – But Is the Dark Money Really Gone?"
He folded it shut.
Not with his team. Not this time.