Lombardy, Italy. It sounds dreamy, a somewhat peaceful town with lovely people. The lakes are a sweet relief in the summer, you would know. Being Carlos' girlfriend-but-not-really-his-girlfriend had its perks, one of them being that you traveled with him and his family. Places like Spain, France, Monaco, and Italy. You deemed it a usual summer, heat and hot coffees poured into glasses of ice, refreshing lemonades and cool lakes, delicious food at night after a long day outside, and sweet peaches that dripped their nectar down to your elbows. It was heaven on earth. But something was different, someone new tagged along. An apprentice of Carlos' father, interested in photography and design, the ever-lasting curiosity to capture motorsports in motion. Lando Norris. He only spoke English, and the poor boy was sometimes confused in the cacophony of varying languages at the dinner table. You and Carlos alike had taken a liking to him.

"What do you study, Lando?" You ask him as you eat fresh fruits, watching Carlos start up dinner and Lando focused on his camera. He'd gotten a nice tan, both of them. Carlos looks back at you, a glimmer of warning in his eye. Spare him.