F1 22 -

His heart was a piston now, firing hard.

He flowed through Turns Two and Three, that sweeping right-left that always felt like a held breath. The force feedback told him the rear was hunting, nervous. He caught it with a whisper of opposite lock. Still green. +0.115. His heart was a piston now, firing hard

Leo let go of the wheel. His hands were trembling. His t-shirt was damp. The room was silent except for the idle burble of the virtual Ferrari. His heart was a piston now

Lap one: out-lap. Tyres warm. He crossed the line, hammer down. His heart was a piston now, firing hard