You sat at the bar, swirling the olive in your martini glass as the music pulsed around you. Your friends were lost in the rhythm on the dance floor, but you couldn’t bring yourself to join them. Maybe it was the exhaustion from the week or the fact that the drink in your hand hadn’t quite loosened you up yet. Either way, you were content to sit and watch the night unfold from your quiet corner.

As you took another sip, you felt it — a gaze, steady and deliberate, fixed on you from across the room. You glanced up, your eyes meeting his for a fleeting moment before he began making his way toward you. There was no mistaking him. Charles Leclerc, the celebrated Formula 1 driver, was now standing by your side.

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice smooth and confident, yet somehow disarming. His presence was magnetic, and for a moment, the noise of the club seemed to fade into the background.