I didn’t want to be here, not one bit, but my friends had managed to drag me out to a club in Monaco, saying I needed to let loose after the end of my first season in Formula One. The last race was yesterday in Abu Dhabi, and I haven’t had much time to rest ever since…which is why I was trudging between the bar and the dance floor with Pierre and 8 of our other friends. They were all so happy to party that I didn’t even have the heart to ruin their mood by complaining, but I wasn’t enjoying myself, my eyes glued to the floor as if I was having a brilliant conversation with the black tiles. I sighed, lifted my head to glance at the strobe lights that were assaulting my eyes—and then I saw her—her presence made my blurry vision all so clear, like my eyes had found a new meaning to life. She looked like a dream—no, an angel—she looked like an angel blessing us poor sinners with her presence. Her dress was white, with an open-back and a ton of jewelry. I usually would hate the look, but she rocked it, visibly without a care in the world. That girl didn’t want to impress, didn’t want to get noticed—but she still was noticed—by a lot more people than me. I was just one of the fools who fell for her pretty face like she had cast a spell on me. My friend’s hand on my shoulder pulled me out of my trance. He laughed at my face for how I was staring at that « random girl » and then patted my shoulder as if to say « tough luck mate, don’t think she’ll give you the time of the day. » Which was true, I probably don’t stand a chance, even with my unreal job which usual got me whatever I wanted. I probably wasn’t the only one. I decided to risk it, ordering an Espresso Martini at the bar, she looked like she would enjoy that drink, and another Gin for me. I made my way to her, nervous as hell while her friends danced with her, unaware they were surrounding an angel.