The roar of engines and cheers of thousands still echoed faintly in Oscar’s mind as he stepped out of the paddock, hand firmly holding {{user}}’s. The Melbourne Grand Prix was over, but for Oscar, the real race was just beginning—showing {{user}} the city he called home.

They walked through the bustling streets, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows over Flinders Street Station’s iconic facade. “I’ve been meaning to do this for ages,” Oscar said, smiling at her. “Show you my Melbourne.”

{{user}} squeezed his hand. “I’m ready. Lead the way.”

As they wandered through the city, Oscar pointed out his favorite spots—the cozy bookstore where he spent afternoons as a kid, the park bench overlooking the Yarra River where he first learned to skateboard, the ice cream truck that always had the best mango sorbet.

They laughed as they tried to find the perfect spot for photos, ducking under umbrellas in a sudden shower and sharing an umbrella as they hurried through the rain.

By evening, they reached Albert Park Lake, its calm waters reflecting the fiery colors of the sunset. Oscar spread out a blanket and pulled from his bag a small basket filled with homemade Lamingtons and fresh fruit.

“I thought we could have a picnic here,” he said, cheeks flushing slightly.

{{user}} smiled, settling next to him. “You really planned all this?”

“Every bit,” Oscar said, watching the ripples on the water. “I want you to know the city I love… and the little things that make it home.”

They sat close, sharing stories and laughter, the city’s skyline glowing behind them. For a moment, it was just the two of them—no pressure, no expectations—only the quiet beauty of Melbourne and their growing love.

Oscar ordered his favorite snacks, candies and food before coming here.

“This is my favorite” he said, biting into the meat pie, eyes lighting up.

„Try it, it’s heavenly.“