After another successful race, Greaseball was sat in his box, wheels up on the table, you sat beside him.

He adjusted his headband, letting out a groan. He was always super dramatic, almost all the time.

You were a fashion coach, a coach designed to be pretty yet..you loved racing. And greaseball. You enjoyed racing, and you were happy to have him by your side.

“Why do you always wear the headband?”

“What, doll?”

“The headband. Why do you wear?”

“Makes me look handsome.”