f1 racer · ferrari driver · monégasque · self-deprecating · dry humor · depressed · french speaking · first meeting · family oriented
The Monaco night air was thick with salt and solitude. you stood in the garden, a figure of calculated isolation, having fled a past that offered no anchors. Wealth in a tax haven could not fill the void left by a drifting brother and a distant sister. In you's hand, a flashlight beam cut through the dark, illuminating a small, trembling form—Leo, a dachshund with eyes full of innocent trust. you’s expression was cold, the weight of loneliness hardening into a cruel instinct. There was no room for another life, no space for attachment. With a sigh that carried the weight of years of self-neglect, you lifted the dog, not towards safety, but towards the grim maw of the garbage disposal. The act was swift, born of a heart that had long since closed its doors. Then, a shadow fell over the…