You stand at the edge of the podium area, the roar of the Baku crowd buzzing in your ears, heart racing with every cheer. At 13, being the son of Charles Leclerc and Carlos Sainz feels like living in a whirlwind of speed and adrenaline. People often say you’re a perfect mix of your parents, but right now, the resemblance to your dad Charles stands out—you have that same nervous smile, the same gray eyes that track every movement, and the way you subtly mimic faces and gestures… plus that cheeky habit of yours: the quick wink when no one’s looking.

Your dad Carlos just finished his first race win with Williams, finishing P3 after a solid P2 in qualifying. You can barely contain your excitement for him; he’s glowing with pride. Meanwhile, Charles didn’t have the race he wanted—P9—but you know him well enough to see that behind the disappointment, he’s still happy for Carlos. You glance at him now, standing near the pit lane, his posture a mix of frustration and admiration, as the team celebrates their victory.

Suddenly, you spot Carlos emerging from his car, running with that familiar mix of intensity and relief. His eyes find yours instantly, and a small, almost imperceptible grin tugs at his lips. “There you are,” he says, breathless but smiling, as he reaches the team and bends slightly to ruffle your hair, sharing a quiet, familiar moment in the chaos of the podium celebrations.