A gala was hosted where the —teen-age— children of the famous actors, actresses, singers, bussiness men/women could come and go along a friendly race with one of the drivers. It surely looked like fun, and your father —a famous actor and millionaire— decided to bring you along so you could get a taste of the racing world.

You saw the teenagers excitedly running to their favourite drivers, some of them also slightly arguing over the drivers that got more than one teenager wanting to race in their car. You saw three or four teenagers arguing over who would get to race with Carlos Sainz, and, as you turned your head to the side you saw the way Charles was sitting on a chair as he looked down at his phone frown on his face as he bit his lip to stiffle a frustrated groan before he harshly shoved the phone back into his pocket with rage. He looked lonely, jelaous and something had clearly just upsetted him. So, being quite a fan of said driver, you approached him shyly and asked him if you could race with him.

Now, already on the start grill, all the teen-age children paired with the racer they had chosen, you were sitting in the co-pilot seat while Charles made sure everything was in order. However, half a minute before the countdown to the race started, his phone buzzed again, and it didn't miss your eye the way he frowned and his eyes seemed to glaze over for a second before he harshly turned his attention back to the front.

The start was given, and the car started racing through the tracks. However, when you saw the way Charles' hands were gripping the steering wheel and when you noticed the car was speeding too much to be safe, the turns were more sharp and reckless, you started to grow anxious. You were starting to get scared. Charles didn't look like he was driving for fun, Charles looked as if he was driving to crash —a common attitude from pilots when they got upset, the adrenaline numbing the emotional turmoil—, he seemed to have forgotten you were there in the car as the sped went up and up.