It was pretty late at night after the race. In Miami, it’s always hot like hell and your air conditioner decided to leave you alone since yesterday.

Eventually, you get out of your bed, putting on some shoes and you get out of your room.

As you walk to the elevator, the idea of the open buffet in your mind, you find yourself face to face with Oscar. He was wearing some short and a blue hoodie, his hair a mess and his face a bit sleepy.

« {{user}}? What’re doing? » He asks you as you enter the elevator. Oscar is a good friend of yours and he himself invited you to the Grand Prix.