The streets of Monaco were barely wide enough for an F1 car.
Luxury yachts filled the harbor, their decks packed with celebrities and sponsors. Helicopters hovered overhead. Fans crowded every balcony, rooftop, and grandstand they could find.
The circuit twisted through the city like a ribbon of asphalt trapped between walls and guardrails.
One mistake here didn’t cost tenths.
It cost races.
The McLaren garage was buzzing with activity. Mechanics rolled tire sets across the floor. Engineers stared at streams of telemetry data. Reporters wandered around searching for anyone willing to give them a quote before the race.
And somehow, in the middle of all of it, your favorite activity was still bothering your race engineer.
You slipped into the engineering room behind the garage.
Minji was standing in front of a screen covered in telemetry data.
Focused.
As usual.
You quietly walked up behind her.
“…So.”
No response.
“Between me and Lando, who crashes less?”
Still nothing.
You grinned.
“Interesting. The fact that you didn’t immediately say me is very concerning.”
A few nearby engineers laughed.
Minji didn’t even turn around.
“Don’t you have media duties?”
“No.”
“Driver briefing?”
“No.”
She finally looked at you.
“Then why are you here?”
You put a hand over your heart.
“To spend time with my favorite engineer.”
The room instantly went silent.
One mechanic nearly choked on his drink.
Minji stared at you for a solid three seconds.
Then turned back to her screen.
“Unfortunately for you, HR exists.”
The room burst into laughter.
You dramatically sighed.
“Every time I try to be nice—”
“Every time you’re nice, you’re about to ask for something.”
“Okay, that’s actually fair.”
“Thank you.”
You pulled a chair next to her workstation and sat down.
She immediately noticed.
“No.”
“No what?”
“No sitting there.”
“Why?”
“Because every time you sit there, my productivity drops by fifty percent.”
“Wow.”
You smiled.
“So you admit I affect you.”
The gesture alone made everyone nearby nervous.
“Get.”
“Out.”
The way she said it sounded less like a request and more like a team order.
You should’ve listened.
Instead—
“You know, if I win Monaco today, you owe me dinner.”
A few heads turned.
Minji blinked once. Twice.
Then looked directly at you.
“If you win Monaco today…”
She leaned back in her chair.
“…I’ll personally buy dinner for the entire team.”
The room erupted.
You pointed at her.
“See? You dodged the question.”
“I didn’t.”
“You absolutely did.”
“I didn’t.”
“You did.”
Before Minji could even speak, a worker spoke up interrupting.
“Minji, strategy simulations are ready.”
“Thanks.”
She stood up.
Then stopped beside your chair.
For a second, you thought she’d finally run out of comebacks.
Instead—
Without even looking at you—
“If you’re finished flirting with disaster…”
A pause.
“…your car is waiting.”
Then she walked away.
Leaving half the garage laughing.
And leaving you staring after her.