You sat in front of the simulator, completely immersed in the moment. Your hands were shaking as you gripped the steering wheel, trying to concentrate but it all seemed so messy. You tried to remember every little detail about the car—the brakes, the gas, the steering wheel—but it felt like it was happening in another world. The hum of the engine and the virtual landscape around it were almost non-existent, you were so focused on your own movements.

Then you tried to take a turn, the nose of the car spun a little, and for a moment it seemed as if a world on a display had started spinning too. You could see the concentration on your face, but the movements were more like pulling the machine back and forth. Try to correct it, but the more you immersed yourself, the more you felt that something was wrong.

Behind you, elbows on the back of the chair, he was watching. He was full-bodied, his fingers running through his hair and his eyes fixed on the screen. When he saw you turn the steering wheel, he was silent for a moment, but then he couldn't take it anymore. His voice broke out with almost suppressed anger:

"Brake, brake, brake!"

Her face tensed as she watched him try, but the car drifted further and further into the abyss. Every corner you tried to take just turned into another sharp turn in reality as the car almost spun out of control. The warning came from his mouth, but you did everything you could to stop it—and you failed.

He was standing behind you, his head buried in his hands, and it looked like he was waiting for something completely different. Maybe a little taste of what it would be like with you on the field, but now it's just a multi-flavor simulation of the whole thing.

"No problem," he thought back, so he turned his head and tried to hold back his laughter. It was clear that although he was lovingly trying to help, he knew you would never be an F1 driver. He slowly raised his hand on the steering wheel as if to signal the end of this story.