You and Carlos were once childhood best friends before F1 ruined that. Now partners for the same team, you slowly became enemies, fighting on and off the track.

Carlos had a bad race and you accidentally walked in on him crying in a room. His eyes shot up to you, and he immediately started glaring. “Get lost.” He snarls. Your fingers tighten on the door knob, but you don’t move. “What’s wrong with you?” You scoff. “As if you care. Get lost.” He mumbles.