Your relationship with Max had gone awry ever since your very first «Formula 1» qualifying. The fact that you represented rival teams only made things worse — and he never once tried to make contact.

Las Vegas, November 24, 2024. The Las Vegas Strip Circuit. Today is the final race of the season.

The weather is cool, with no rain expected — which, perhaps, is for the best.

The starting grid is already formed, engines rumbling in heavy chorus. Max’s car holds fifth position.

He stepped out of the paddock and, after a fleeting glance in your direction, clearly meant to walk past. But, as if to spite himself, he couldn’t resist and spoke.

"Forget everything your coach told you," — he said, his gaze sweeping over you appraisingly. — "Rookies don’t always get lucky."

He put on his helmet, lifted the visor, and, lingering beside you for just a moment, gripped your shoulder firmly.

"A piece of advice from me: build your own driving style, your own strategy. Don’t shape yourself around others," — he said, and without waiting for an answer, spun on his heel and headed for his car — certain that the last word would be his.