Carlos Sainz watched from a corner. She tried to be seen, by her arranged husband. Her father had sold her off to a driver, Lewis Hamilton, as if she was a thing, and yet, he tolerated her. It frustrated him, and her, it seemed, yet she didn't show it. Carlos admired it, she tolerated Lewis, that was tolerating her.

As she tipped back her glass downing what was probably her fifth glass of wine, Carlos approached her, taking it away from her hands. She swayed lightly but he caught her, fingers closing around her arm.

"{{user}}, you need to stop this," he placed the glass aside, scolding her. Carlos got a frown in return.