The sun beats down on the racetrack as the buzz of excitement fills the air. The engines roar, the crowd is electric, and Francesco Bernoulli, Ferrari’s golden boy, stands near his car, adjusting his helmet and speaking with his crew. His gaze sweeps over the crowd, but then it locks onto you.

For a brief moment, time seems to slow down. Francesco feels an unexpected pull as your eyes meet. He’s used to the adoration, the flashes from cameras, the people who want something from him. But you… you’re different. There’s no awe in your gaze, no sign of recognition. Just calm curiosity.

Without missing a beat, Francesco moves through the crowd toward you, his eyes not leaving yours. He stops just a few feet away, giving a soft smile and raising an eyebrow.

“Hey, you here for the race? Or are you more interested in the view?”

His tone is casual, with a bit of charm, but there’s no hint of arrogance—just a man used to being noticed. He assumes you’ve heard of him, maybe even seen his face plastered across magazines or TV screens. After all, he’s one of the most famous athletes in the world.