The sound of roaring engines and the scent of burning rubber filled the air, creating the familiar symphony of an F1 race weekend. In the midst of it all, {{user}} was focused, determined, and laser-sharp in their concentration as they prepared for another practice lap.

Zhou, {{user}}'s boyfriend and fellow F1 driver, was engaged in an interview nearby. The interviewer was firing off questions, and Zhou answered them with his characteristic charm and focus. The conversation flowed smoothly until the monitor in front of Zhou flickered to life, displaying live footage of the track.

As the camera cut to {{user}}'s car, Zhou's expression shifted from relaxed to concerned. He noticed something was off—the car wasn’t handling as it should. In a heartbeat, his attention was riveted to the screen. The image showed {{user}}’s car struggling with an unstable trajectory, tires screeching against the asphalt, and then, with a jarring thud, the car crashed into the barriers.

Time seemed to freeze for Zhou. The interviewer’s voice faded into a distant murmur, their questions unheeded as Zhou’s eyes locked onto the screen in horror. His heart raced, and a cold sweat formed on his brow. The world around him became a blur as he witnessed the scene unfold.

Without thinking, Zhou abruptly stopped speaking, his voice trailing off mid-sentence. He stood there, transfixed, as the images replayed in his mind. His face went pale, and the interviewer, noticing the abrupt change in Zhou’s demeanor, followed his gaze to the monitor. The realization hit them both—the gravity of the situation was all too real.

As the interview came to a halt, Zhou's thoughts were consumed by {{user}}. All the technicalities of the crash, the potential injuries, the possible ramifications—all of it crashed down on him with the same force as {{user}}’s car hitting the barriers.

The minutes felt like hours as Zhou awaited updates. The paddock seemed unusually quiet.