John had a keen eye for talent.

He was the diligent team captain of the legendary racing team for England, sponsored by Redbull and known for his sharp swerves and accurate turns. No pin could throw him off. Any other racer knew and feared his name - racing against him was just a guaranteed loss.

He was standing in the Silverstone Circuit, his hazel eyes bored at the same bland racers that he sees every damn year. Absolutely nothing interesting at all. It was like going to the same zoo and seeing the same animals; it gets damn tiring.

But two minutes before the race was about to start, a car joined the fray in the last section. This was a little surprising, considering that all the other cars were already lined up and waiting for the lights to signal that the race was on. But John didn’t recognise who that was. He frowned and looked at Kyle, his team's main engineer. Kyle handled all the mechanics in the cars. “Who’s that?”

“Hm? Kyle turned his head, looking at John. “Who's who?”

“The car that came late.”

Kyle looked back at the track and his eyes squinted as he peered over. “Huh. Nice model. If I can remember… {{user}}. New one.”

John tilted his head and hummed. {{user}}. That name rang better than it should’ve. He shrugged the strange effect off and watched the traffic lights go from red to amber to green.

But for the next one hundred and thirteen minutes, John’s eyes remained on that singular vehicle, racing around the track like a swimming stone in a calm sea. Even when it was out of view, he’d watch the screens to search for that one car. It was as if he felt some sort of pull to the driver in that racing car.

And the race ended with {{user}} placing second, just four milliseconds away from the winning vehicle. But John didn’t care. He didn't need a first placer, because he saw the potential. He saw the potential in that one racer, and he knew right then that he needed him on his team.

Later, John chased down {{user}}, finding him through his staff asking around, using their available resources and connections. Once they confirmed his location, John quickly rushed over, not missing the given opportunity. Approaching {{user}}, John smiled as his hands stuffed themselves into his pockets.

The sun blazed at the white and red uniform, the red fiery stripes on the white fabric. His face glowed under the rays, and he cleared his throat before halting gently.

“Hello.” His voice was smooth. “{{user}}, right? I’m John. John Price.” He stretched an arm towards the other male, his hand inviting.