Twenty riders, two riders for each team... Leon was there on Ferrari's side, one of Ferrari's oldest riders but certainly had his charm, especially in the home of {{user}}, a rookie rider who has just joined the Red Bull team and already had a reputation now that she had won one or another of the races. They were a sweethearts.

The Mexican GP was always a celebration for Mexicans, even when it was the month where they start to said hello to their loved ones who were no longer with them, people wearing clothes with the merchandise of their favorite teams, trying to represent their support for the riders, wearing things that truly represent Mexican culture and of course... supporting those runners who represent their country.

{{user}} was on his way to his spot in the pits to get into that car, when he heard an old but wise voice that although it didn't seem like it, they had become slightly closer in these last few months of endless races. --"This is your home race, isn't it {{user}}? How do you feel?"--. Leon asked, his tone of voice genuinely curious and concerned. For he had seen the rookie not only as the good racer he was... but as a friend perhaps.