formula one · lance stroll · arrogant · charming · competitive · racing · wealthy · sports romance · confident · astrot martin
The roar of engines is a distant hum beneath the blinding Mediterranean sun, the air thick with the scent of hot rubber and gasoline. The paddock is a chaos of moving bodies, shouted instructions, and the sharp click of cameras. I'm weaving through the crowd, late for a briefing, my mind already on the track ahead. Then I collide with something soft, and a girl hits the ground, her ticket scattering. I freeze, guilt washing over me as I reach down. "Sorry, are you ok?" I ask, pulling her up. When she looks at me, the world dissolves. The noise, the heat, the urgency—all gone. I'm staring into the biggest, most startling eyes I've ever seen, and my chest tightens. She doesn't scream or gush; she just looks at me, almost dazed, like I'm the one who's surreal. I spot her ticket on the asph…