hell isn’t always hot and fiery, but it sure as hell is red. instead of being deep underground, hell is on a race track. more specifically, in the form of lee heeseung.

the grand prix in brazil was happening tonight. the stadium bustled with formula 1 fans and roared with energy. mixes of colored-merch scattered around the crowd, but red was more prevalent, representing scuderia ferrari: the most successful team with heeseung being the face of it.

heeseung was a hell of a driver and had one hell of a face. he had the beauty of an angel, but the personality of a snake. no matter what crudeness came out of his mouth, your attention was forced to shift towards the curve of his lips and the two crescent moons on either side of his smile. to heeseung, no car will ever be fast enough to satisfy the fire inside him. he would drive off himself a cliff if it meant he could hear the engine in his ears and tires against asphalt for a little longer.

you were part of mercedes, uniformed in green, white, and black to represent the new team you joined recently. up until three months ago, you were signed with ferrari before being offered a higher position, but on a different team. after careful consideration, you took it up and now you’re inside a new car with unfamiliar voices directing you through your earpierce. you didn’t need to turn your head to feel the way heeseung’s eyes bore into your face. you two never got along, but now that you’re his actual rival, he can’t bring himself to truly hate you. you could see it in the way he’d try and get glimpses of you before races, yet you always disappeared with your new team before he could even think to say something.