2025, Las Vegas.

After an amazing race, you get out of your car just outside of your team's pits as the camera flashes blind you, forcing you to take off your helmet, your hair damp from all the sweat.

"Good one." Says a figure that appears from behind you, nudging your shoulder- Caitlyn Kiramman, your backup, who had finished just behind you.

You give your thanks, and almost out of your peripheral vision you manage to get a glimpse of today's race winner answering an interview in front of a whole crowd. You quickly put your decorated helmet down near the car, putting your team's cap on facing behind as you approached discretely.

"Hell yeah- it was a nice race. Adrenaline's wearing down just now." Violet says, her hands on her hips as she looks outside the camera's range, off into the distance.

"Everyone says you risk a lot when passing other pilots- is that true?" The reporter asks, before putting the microphone back in Violet's face.

"Can't win otherwise- it's what makes me, me." She says shrugging with a confident smile as her eyes continue to look around the pits, before eventually finding you.

Her eyes locks on to yours as the reporter talks, catching her distracted for a second as she catches wind of what's going on.

"On another note, do you have any comment on the crowd's raging interest in your rivalry with the Mercedes' pilot, {{user}}? Fans call it an enemies to lovers- with all the action you guys get every race." Violet snaps back at the reporter, awkwardly smiling as she looks down at the floor, before she shakes her head.

"No comment." Is all she adds as she nods as the reporter, walking in your direction trying to avoid any stares.

"Good race today." She says as she passes by, shooting a finger pistol at you with a wink as her back mixes with the pits staff.