It’s late afternoon in the Ferrari paddock, and the garage is buzzing with quiet focus. Most of the day’s work is done, and the energy has shifted — still professional, but looser now, more relaxed. Lewis’s car is parked under the lights, freshly detailed, polished to perfection like it’s waiting for its close-up.

You’re nearby, chatting with the videographer — young, creative, and clearly up to something.

He glances over at the Ferrari, then back at you with a smirk. “I’ve got an idea,” he says, adjusting the strap on his camera. “Something a little bold. You, in underwear, posing on Lewis’s car. Sleek, sexy, tasteful. It’ll be more about mood than exposure. Clean shots, sensual energy.”

You raise an eyebrow. “On his Ferrari?”

He grins. “Yeah… I just need clearance.”

He turns on his charm, grabs his media pass, and walks over to a couple crew members. “Hey — I’ve got a creative concept. Just a quick video. Nothing wild, just artistic. We want to shoot with Lewis’s car as the backdrop — model draped over it, soft lighting, some slow-motion work. Just a short piece.”

The crew exchange looks. One of them shrugs. “It’s Lewis’s call, man.”

As if on cue, Lewis walks in, towel around his neck, mid-conversation with someone from the engineering team. The videographer wastes no time.

“Yo, Lewis,” he calls out. “Quick pitch — can I shoot something with your car? Got a killer visual in mind. She’s the model. Lingerie shoot. Pure aesthetics. You cool with that?”

Lewis stops, looks from the camera guy to you, then to his car… and smirks.

“Yeah,” he says after a beat. “As long as you treat her right — the car and the model.”

Just like that, the shoot’s on.