bradley can see ghosts, haunted academia au 30k+ | 4/6 chapters
The earth has been spinning for a long time, and for just about as long, people have been dying.
At least that’s what it feels like to Bradley.
He feels it as he buys his overpriced coffee in the morning. He feels it as he cuts through LA traffic on his bike, slipping into his office, and as he watches the students pour into the lecture hall he’s supposed to teach in.
But worst of all, he feels it in his bones.
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UNPUBLISHED ARTICLE: "Remembering the Lost Legacy of Bradley Bradshaw"
by Charlotte Blackwood, 24.08.2022
glitterguardianmotorsports.com
The name Bradshaw first appeared in the Glitter Grid Guardian Archive almost thirty years ago. The era in which Nick “Goose” Bradshaw and Pete “Maverick” Mitchell secured two worldchampionships for the latter. Their stint of teamwork is still widely considered the most iconic partnership to ever grace motorsports. A legacy that redefinded what collaboration between Formula One drivers, engineers and their teams meant forever.
But while Nick was never one to attract headlines, his son Bradley, seemed to have inherited his godfather’s fable for making history. A prodigy. A true “born racer”. Considered a future champion. Deemed a secret project between Maverick and Iceman behind closed doors.
Nobody was prepared for just how fast the young racer managed to climb step after step up to a Formula One seat in the 2000s and early 2010s.
Ten years ago to this day, all of it came to a stop.
Bradley Bradshaw, just seventeen years old at the time, was leading his second GP2 championship, when he vanished from public view. Swallowed by a fireball at Spa-Francorchamps. In the hours after the accident, DAMS representatives reported that Bradshaw was comatose in a hospital- and with that the last official statement, that mentioned him was released. Until today there have been no further statements about his condition.
Total mechanical failure and that devastating crash cast a silence over the circuit, which echo is still felt to this day. The exceptional young man was gone, without the dignity of ever crossing a chequered flag again.
When Natasha Trace clinched the 2012 GP2 title that year, she lifted the trophy with her own italian, and a belgian flag, tightly wrapped around her proudly dedicating the championship “to my friend who still leads every race in my head.”
And while the paddock stopped saying his name, the tiny monogramm of “BB” still pops up, every time Formula 1 returns to Spa. Trace, Javy Machado and Mickey Garcia, to this day refuse for their closest rival and good friend to be forgotten. Printed on their gloves or racing suits, as a sticker on their steering wheel even with a design on their helmet.
Wether Bradley Bradshaw, is dead, alive, or vanished- nobody knows. And maybe we will never find out what happened after the helicopter lifted him away from the race track. Until then we can be sure of one thing:
Bradley Bradshaw was not just a rising star. He was the sun for a new generation of racers. His legacy lives on in every young driver that enters the track on race day.
"Note by C. Blackwood: Article scrapped- as a personal favour to Mitchell. Any further articles mentioning B. Bradshaw are going to be considered a legal issue."
⋆˚࿔✭ @ellemnopie and I decided to each write a one-shot to the same prompt with our own fandoms, so don't forget to check out her story aswell✭࿔˚⋆
⊹₊⋆ ao3
Alcohol made monsters out of men.
Loving sons, fathers and uncles turned mean and angry. And even the most caring mothers and daughters suddenly had explosive tempers and bitter words that cut like knives. It made people act out in the most horrible and disturbing ways. Twisting them.
It ruined everything good, tainted the future, their own and everyone else’s.
“You’re everyone’s problem.”
When he was flying, he was just the same. There was no limit; he was wild and reckless by nature. He was free in the air, but ever since he and Carole lost Goose, walking the earth had only ever felt like a cage.
“I don’t like you because you’re dangerous.”
For Pete, it was different. He was cocky, sure. But that never translated to him being an angry drunk. It didn’t turn him cruel and destructive after a few drinks.
No, Alcohol made him stupid. Or rather romantic, softer- like he was drunk on the idea of love itself.
He had that figured out soon after his first drink. All his hook-ups and rendezvous, and his questionable pickup tactics, had always been born through a glass of brandy or two.
Maverick turned charming in a way that he never quite was when sober.
What he hadn’t known before was that alcohol made him jealous, too.
And he was barely holding on with the way it shot through him. Fuck he was about to turn green with envy.
Because, as charming as he was, it would never matter. He couldn’t let it.
Not when the tiniest things would set him off. The fantasy of dinners that could never happen. The moments just after a handshake that lasted just a second too long.
He couldn’t dare indulge, and god did he want to.
Aside from making an ass of himself, as it turned out, alcohol made him delusional and pathetic as well.
Because as he stood by the side of the bar, clenching his beer with an iron grip, his eyes were focused on one thing only. The laughing brunette that Ice was currently spinning across the dancefloor.
It was ridiculous. Obscene even.
The way they fit together with perfect ease. The way everyone couldn’t help but look at the way Tom was twirling the beautiful woman in his hands.
And Pete ached, plagued by the unfamiliar what-ifs that he never let himself think about.
What if we ever had the chance to dance like that? Stop.
What if all of it wasn’t so complicated? No, no, no.
What if it were me? That woman with the smudged green eyeshadow, in her stupid flowery dress. Fuck.
Was that all it took? A bit of lipstick and some green glitter to earn even a pathetic sliver of the blonde man’s attention.
Pete knew he was being unfair. The woman didn’t do anything wrong, even if he wanted to throw up as her dress flared when Ice spun her around again. How she giggled under the dim bar lights, shining like a gemstone in his arms, because Ice let her.
And as the music changed to something slower, softer than any previous song, and even more pairs floated up to the dancefloor, Ice-
Tom looked at him. And just for a short moment, their eyes met.
Not long enough for anyone to notice, but just enough for Pete’s breath to get caught in his throat.
He could feel the lump in his throat forming, and tried to wash it down with a swig of his beer. The carbonation stinging all the way down.
Pete watched as Ice and the brunette parted, but the ache in his lungs clung on.
Because it was never about Tom’s attention. He knew he had it.
It was the world’s permission that they lacked.
He couldn’t kid himself into acting like he didn’t know how the Navy worked. Not all rules were written in ink and painted on the walls; some were unspoken, quiet whispers at most.
He wasn’t drunk enough to forget.
They didn’t need to catch them holding hands or in bed together. A rumour was enough.
And while Iceman’s file was spotless. Pete was already carrying the ghost of his father before Goose died.
He barely had his shit together on a good day. Even if Carole promised that she didn’t blame him. Even if he pretended to no longer feel buried under the prejudice of his father’s legacy.
Pete would rather die than be the man who took Tom Kazansky down with him.
And lord help him, he couldn’t delude himself into thinking that it wouldn’t happen.
As he watched the brunette woman place a quick goodbye kiss on Ice’s cheek, he let the slow music sting like a slap in the face, pretending he was the one with a choice in this.
So he stood there, back stiff, feet planted. Hoping- praying, that the beer in his hand was enough to cool the fiery pain in his chest.
And then Ice was next to him, with that calm and unreadable expression.
“You dance well, I mean-” Pete’s voice broke, “You looked perfect, I mean, with her.”
Ice laughed bitterly. “You could have joined.”
“What?”
“Me,” Ice said point blank, “Asked me to dance.”
Pete could only gulp and avert his eyes.
Ice gave a soft chuckle when their eyes met again, “Wouldn’t say no”
It was quiet. A door wide open, that Pete knew was his to close, even if his heart would shatter just as the hinges rattled when he banged it shut.
Not because Ice wasn’t offering it to him, not even because Pete didn’t want it. Love.
But because loving Tom Kazansky meant not letting himself love him.
In some other world or universe, he could have dared to step forward, to dance with Tom the same way the woman did.
He could have danced with him, just this once. And he would have the strength to let him go afterwards.
Pete would be able to forget how the other man’s hand had felt in his, or even a warm arm across his back, how they danced steadily moving in unison. Humming to the slow music that felt like it was encompassing them. Maybe even resting his head on the other’s shoulder-
He needed to stop torturing himself.
Because Pete knew that even in some far-removed universe, just like in this one, he would never be able to let Tom go again.
For heaven’s sake, Ice had a future. He’d become an Admiral one day, and before that, rise up the ranks. Pete couldn’t let himself become a problem, let his greed and jealousy win, and embarrassingly stain Ice’s perfectly clean record.
And for once, Maverick wasn’t brave enough.
He wasn’t brave enough to ruin the one thing he hadn’t already destroyed.
Not for one dance. Not even for a pathetic second, in Tom’s arms.
He couldn’t breathe.
“No,” he hesitated, took another slow sip of his beer, “I don’t think so.”
“It’s just a dance, Mitchell”
“Not to me,” he whispered, low and pained.
Not to us.
He emptied the rest of his beer, left the bottle behind, then tried to smile at Tom, polite, maybe a bit hollow.
Pete knew alcohol made men act out in the worst ways. With a last nod, he walked off before he could muster up the bravery to do something.
Before he stayed.
Before he begged.
Before it made a monster out of him, too.
divider by @cafekitsune
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by Brian Smith, 3.01.2012
glitterguardianmotorsports.com
At just 17 years old, Bradley Bradshaw is becoming one of the most talked-about young drivers in international motorsport. With a career that has moved almost uninterrupted since he was 5 years old, the half-Belgian talent is now within touching distance of Formula 1, having recently been confirmed as a reserve driver with backing from DAMS.
Bradshaw’s introduction to racing began in 2000, when F1 Champions Pete Mitchell and Tom Kazansky provided him with his first kart at age five. Like many top-tier drivers, he spent his early years practising far away from the spotlight before stepping into official competition in 2003. From the outset, he showed composure and natural pace that belied his age. By 2006, he was a regular contender in the Belgian and British National Karting Championship, facing off against some of the best young talents in the region.
The international CIK-FIA, in which he finished third in the championship, followed in 2007, and just a year later, Bradshaw surprised the paddock by claiming the CIK-FIA World Cup at the age of 13. The win placed him firmly on the radar of junior talent scouts, and it wasn’t long before he was snapped up by a development program and placed into single-seaters.
In 2009, Bradshaw made his car racing debut in Formula BMW Europe with Prema Powerteam—an outfit renowned for grooming future F1 prospects. He adapted quickly to the demands of open-wheel racing, delivering strong results in his rookie season. A step up to Formula 3 with the same team followed in 2010, where he continued to impress with consistent points finishes and flashes of real brilliance in challenging conditions.
It was in 2011, however, that Bradshaw truly announced himself on the world stage. Joining DAMS for a full season in the GP2 Series, he delivered a mature and composed campaign, ultimately winning the championship at just 16 years old. His title run was marked not just by raw speed, but by his ability to manage tyres, read races, and absorb pressure- traits rarely seen in drivers so young.
Now serving as a Formula 1 reserve driver heading into 2012, Bradshaw finds himself in legendary company. While no debut has yet been confirmed, his presence in the F1 paddock is already drawing attention. With proven results across every level of the junior ladder, we firmly believe that it’s only a matter of time before his name appears on the starting grid of a Grand Prix.
Bradley Bradshaw’s rise has been anything but boring: measured, relentless, and grounded in performance. If his trajectory continues, he may soon be more than just a promising talent..
This year, his long-time friends and rivals, Natasha Trace, Javy Machado and Mikey Garcia have also taken the step up into GP2. We cannot wait for the trouble these young drivers will cause if we look back at their track record.
If you are interested in reading more articles like this…
(Flipping the) Birds and Bees- Teen Drama or Rivalry? Trace vs. Machado at La Conca
Theft on Track- Karting’s new Robin Hood now found!
Glitter Guardian Motorsports Archive
8th May 2001
by Charlotte Blackwood
One can expect a lot of things at the Genk karting track: talent, parents and lots of noise- what nobody expected this weekend? Two Formula One Legends, casually relaxing and sipping coffee out of paper cups.
Tom “Iceman” Kazansky (World Drivers Champion 1998, 1999) and Pete “Maverick” Mitchell (World Drivers Champion 1994, 1995, 2000) spent the weekend in Belgium, relaxing and apparently assessing young talent.
It was Nick “Goose” Bradshaw, former race engineer, now a motorsport photographer, who allegedly first brokered the legendary détente between Maverick and Iceman. What began as a chilly rivalry reportedly thawed into something more like reluctant friendship over recent years, ever since it was all about dinners in Monaco, ski trips in Zermatt, chaotic podium champagne, and a shared disgust for PR appearances.
The Bradshaw-Kazansky-Mitchell connection goes way back- Nick Bradshaw married Carole Bradshaw (née Mitchell), the adoptive sister of Pete Mitchell. Carole, who is half Belgian, settled down with Nick, not far from Genk, to escape busy Rome, where she and her brother had grown up. Surrounded by quiet roads, fields and apparently- a lot of karts.
The two champions, longtime friends and rivals in equal measure, weren’t there for press, promotion, or nostalgia- but apparently for their nephew.
Bradley Bradshaw. Five years old. Helmet slightly too big. Flew across the karting Track.
One bystander told us, “They weren’t here for a photo op. They were here for the kid,” nodding toward the boy’s sleek little kart, matte black with red accents. “That thing’s not a rental,” he added. “That was built for someone. He’s obviously special.”
Whether it was a gift or a shared project is unclear, but multiple sources at the track claimed the two champions were seen inspecting the kart earlier in the day, speaking quietly with the boy’s father, and, in true F1 fashion, lightly debating tire pressure.
When Bradley’s kart, sporting the number 33, finally hit the track, a woobly first few rounds turned into precise racing from one moment to the next. When the five-year-old set the best time for his age class, sources reported seeing Maverick celebrating and shouting: “Kid’s got some feel.”
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“Horror Crash in Spa: GP2 Champion Hospitalised following a devastating Qualifying Accident.”
by Brian Smith, 27.08.2012
glitterguardianmotorsports.com
Friday evening left the world of motorsports breathless and worried after the seventeen-year-old GP2 Champion Bradley Bradshaw suffered a horrifying accident during qualifying at the GP2 Series round at Spa-Francorchamps. The circuit is renowned for its high-speed corners and elevation changes, and its ability to test the limits of drivers has turned from Bradshaw’s Home race into a Horror Race, while his family had to watch from the paddock.
Representatives from DAMS have issued a statement this morning that the freak accident occurred due to an unexplained mechanical failure of both the brakes and the rear suspension, which led to Bradshaw spinning and slamming into the barriers at around 270 km/h (167mp/h). Upon impact, the racecar went up in flames with the unconscious driver still inside it.
Due to the quick response of the marshals on site, Bradshaw was swiftly extracted from the wreckage and airlifted to a nearby hospital. A source close to the team has revealed that the young driver who was critically injured remains in a medically induced coma, but has suffered minimal burns.
The godson of Formula 1 world champion Pete “Maverick” Mitchell has become a key figure of junior motorsports. The 2012 GP2 campaign was shaping up to be his breakout year as the defending series champion, and he was positioned firmly in the title fight, ranked first in the championship standings.
In response to the accident, DAMS announced that reserve driver Reuben Fitch will take over Bradshaw’s seat for the remainder of the season. Fitch, 19, has impressed in testing but will have to face the noise, stepping into the shoes of a driver who is widely regarded as one of the brightest talents in motorsport.
For now, we hope he is able to recover and send strength and prayers to his Family. The entire Motorsports Community anxiously awaits updates regarding the health of Bradley Bradshaw, a prodigy, a true racer and a friend to many here on the grid.
You can find the footage of the accident. [here]
Comments:
f2freak1805: that is one gnarly accident, what the hell happened to that car that it went up in flames the second it hit the wall???
kamitchell96: Hope the kid can recover, what a shame!
cold-driver21: I have never seen someone get pulled out of a gp car like that before, are we actually sure that bradshaw is still alive? x
motordad77: So young! Hats off to the marshals and medics.
Glitter Guardian Motorsports Archive
2nd November 1995
by Charlotte Blackwood
“I feel the need! The need for speed!”
That need was probably what two-time world champion Pete “Maverick” Mitchell felt, not during the Japanese Grand Prix at Suzuka, but while fleeing from the track after sealing the deal on his second consecutive title. While the celebrations for Stinger Formula Limited went on, Mitchell was no where to be found.
It certainly will never get boring with Pete Mitchell on the grid. In a truly bizarre end to the 1995 Formula One season, Mitchell didn’t stick around after a speedy trip to the podium. In a modest champagne spray, the reigning world champion suddenly vanished from the paddock. No photos, no media and not a word to the team. His absence left fans, commentators, and most shockingly, his own mechanics, stunned.
Suspiciously, his race engineer, Nick Bradshaw, or as most people know him, Goose, was also nowhere to be seen this weekend. Officially reported as having left after Q2 due to “unexpected circumstances”, Bradshaw’s Radio equipment had sat unused during the race.
Stinger Formula Limited celebrated all throughout the night, with multiple rival drivers attending the party as well, by Monday morning it wasn’t their win that was talked about. Only Mitchell’s disappearance. Was Mitchell officially breaking his contract? Did Goose resign- and did Maverick follow? One question haunted the paddock: Where the hell did Mav go?
Rumours spun wild. Some insisted that he had to hurry off to begin testing with a rival team with which he had signed a secret deal. A British tabloid quite insistently suggested that Pete Mitchell, to all of our surprise, decided to retire, with one race left to go. After the release of a blurry picture yesterday, multiple news outlets reported that Mitchell had run off with one of his old flames, an anonymous source close to the Stinger Formula Limited Team even revealed that the freshly baked two-time world champion eloped in Vegas.
Through all of this media frenzy, neither Maverick nor the team released a statement.
Until this morning.
Just as Guardian Motorsports began to finalise this article, a statement found its way into the office. A fax- yes, fax! Signed by noone but Maverick himself, handwritten in smudged blue ink.
Didn’t bail. Just had better company waiting. Baby Bradshaw landed safe and loud. I’m an uncle now. That’s my trophy this year. -Mav
No mystery after all- Instead of a secret wedding, contract breaches or early retirement, the answer to everyone’s question was this: A proud uncle making a James Bond film worthy getaway to meet the newest family member.
Everyone from the Grid Guardian Motorsports Office sincerely congratulates Carol and Nick Bradshaw. And to Baby Goose: Let’s hope you don’t inherit your uncle’s talent for causing trouble. Though let’s be honest- you definitely will!
If Jake had to describe Bradley in three words, they would probably be: Guarded, Quiet and too Emo for his own good.
If Bradley had to describe Jake, he'd say: Loud, Relentless and fucking Annoying.
Or somewhere between bug spray, emotional baggage, and badly timed flirting, the line between a breakdown and a breakthrough starts to blur.
Anyways- It’s summer camp, what could possibly go wrong?
