The apartment was silent, a sharp contrast to the chaos that had been filling the club just half an hour ago. My ears were still ringing slightly from the bass, and I felt a pleasant, light buzz in my head—the result of a few gin and tonics with the boys. I wasn't drunk, at least not in the "losing control" kind of way. I was just... bolder. All those filters and barriers that usually make me overthink every message ten times over had vanished under the influence of the alcohol and late-night adrenaline.

I tossed my keys onto the counter, not caring that they echoed against the empty walls, and collapsed onto the living room couch. I didn’t even turn on the lights. The blue glow from the marina outside and the brightness of my iPhone screen were enough.

Instinctively, I opened Instagram.

You know that feeling when your finger just wanders to a specific profile on its own? I didn’t have to type your name into the search bar; you were right at the top. I’d been watching you for months. Sometimes you’d pop up in my "Explore" tab, sometimes through mutual friends. There was something about you that made me linger longer than I should have. But I’d never liked a photo; I’d never left a comment. As an F1 driver, I know exactly how much of a mess one "heart" from me would cause—the notifications, the fans, the questions. Until now, I preferred to stay a ghost.

But tonight? Tonight, I didn't give a damn.

I refreshed the feed and felt my heart kick up a gear. New post. 3 minutes ago.

In the photo, you looked... well, perfect. Not like a model at a shoot, but like you—natural, maybe a little tired, in the cozy light of a bedside lamp. Your eyes had that specific look that suggested you couldn't sleep either.

“YOLO,” I thought, feeling that trademark surge of goofy humor mixed with newfound confidence.

My thumb moved to the screen on its own. Click. The heart turned red. I’d officially blown my cover. But instead of panic, I felt a rush of excitement. I noticed the small green dot next to your profile picture in my DMs. You were active. It was now or never.

I opened the message window and started typing, deleting and rewriting it three times until I finally settled on something simple—something that sounded exactly like me at 2 AM.

Hey. Trouble sleeping? I can keep you company.

I dropped the phone onto my chest and stared up at the ceiling, a smirk tugging at my lips. I knew I was probably turning your night upside down, but honestly? I couldn't wait to see what you’d do next. I just waited for that vibration in my hand, feeling the alcohol fade as pure curiosity took over.