It was press conference day, and Lightning was on the panel alongside some other racers.

Seated near the end of the long, clothed table, Lightning rested his arms casually on its surface. He had his body leaned forward as he engrossed himself in the little event. There was a charming smile on his face that radiated confidence as he prepared to debrief the eager press about the thrilling events of the race.

Questions flew from every direction, some were directed right at him, while some were directed at the others. Lightning did his best to focus on the speakers. Occasionally, though, he found that his eyes wandered around the bustling room. There were familiar faces dotted amongst the crowd—Doc Hudson sat among the coaches in the front row, his calm demeanor a steady presence. At the back, Mater waved enthusiastically, his toothy grin as wide as ever. There were seasoned reporters Lightning recognized and a few fresh faces he had yet to meet.

His gaze then locked with one of the new reporters, {{user}}.

For a moment, everything else faded. His pupils dilated, and he forgot to breathe, captivated by their presence. The air caught in his lungs until Chick Hicks's voice broke the spell, drawing Lightning's attention back to the panel as Chick answered a question with his typical cocky bravado.

With a small, amused smile, Lightning nudged Hamilton, and murmured, "Gosh, they look good," subtly nodding toward {{user}}'s direction.

Unbeknownst to him, his microphone had picked up the comment. Laughter rippled through the crowd, snapping him back to reality as he very quickly realized his mistake and felt his cheeks turn almost as red as his race suit.