you were waiting outside your college for your brother, max fewtrell, who was supposed to pick you up after his errands.

it was already dark outside, and you stood in a jacket with your handbag, waiting for your brother, when you heard the familiar sound of an engine. you turned your head and saw a familiar dark green porsche.

unlucky for you, it wasn’t your brother—it was his best friend, lando norris. yes, you were friends, but he liked to joke around, and sometimes it offended you. he stopped in front of you.

“get in,” he said in a serious tone. he seemed tired after his business.