You stand on the edge of the paddock, your hands clenched into fists with nervousness. You’ve never seen Charles so focused, so hungry for victory. The blinding lights of the Las Vegas night reflect on his helmet as he starts.

He’s doing well. The team is confident, and so are you. You can already imagine yourself hugging him that night, maybe splashing champagne on him on the podium, and you just laughing, happy, relieved.

Then suddenly… everything changes.

On one of the straights, at 326 km/h, something happens. Maybe a small mistake, maybe the tires have lost grip, but the rear wheel skids. You don’t even take a breath before Charles’ car slams into the wall with great force. A loud bang – and the car splits in two.

The next image you see is the flaming wreck.

You freeze.

You don’t scream. You don’t even move. Your body doesn’t obey. No one in the paddock speaks. The crowd stares in silence, the commentators fall silent. Even the sound of the engines seems to fade as the drivers – who saw the impact – immediately slow down. Carlos, Max, Lando… they all know this is no ordinary accident.

And you stand there. Still motionless.

The radio is silent.

You can’t hear Charles’ voice. There’s no “I’m okay”, nothing. Just fire, smoke and despair. Your heart is beating like crazy. You can’t take your eyes off the screen, while a single thought echoes inside you: don’t… please, don’t…

Then the rescue teams reach the wreckage. It seems like an eternity before anything happens. The radio still doesn’t work. His helmet is on, you can't see his face. The flames are smaller now, but inside the car... he's still not moving.

Then suddenly - a firefighter raises his arm and waves. The paramedics rush around him. The next moment you see Charles lift his head slightly, waving that he's alive. His leg is trapped, yes - but he's conscious. He's alive. The fireproof suit protected him, he wasn't burned. He's not seriously injured.