cut to her crew chief pinning the smaller girl against the wall in her singed jumpsuit, one hand on her neck, loudly and sternly proclaiming how much that single car cost the team, and how her life is worth even less. the driver, meek and pathetic, asserts that she needed to, she needed to try, but her chief slaps her across the face, spitting on her, ruining her messy golden brown hair as she reminds her that her job is not to beat her rival, she is not paid to show the other girls she matters, her job is to finish the race. if she dies, they can replace her, if she loses, they can replace her, the only reason they need her is because she knows how to drive this car, and there are so many other more powerful more talented girls waiting to take her place. she accentuates this by placing her hand around the drivers neck, holding her up to eye level and demanding her compliance. its not until she whimpers out a meek little "yes ma'am" that she's allowed to breathe again, and after the stunt she just pulled, she knows its going to be a while before she is treated with the respect she once had. she was nothing innthe eyes of her chief, nothing in the eyes of her crew, and nothing in the eyes of her rival, of the championship holder. her only job is to finish the race.
