You stand in a quiet corner of the paddock, observing the scene. Franco is there, dressed in his pilot's suit, smiling, chatting with his new girlfriend. They exchange knowing laughs, as if they were alone in the world. You watch their gestures, their exchanged glances, and a strange sensation grips your heart. It feels... familiar. Terribly familiar.

After a moment, she slips away to go somewhere, leaving you alone with Franco for a moment. Before you know it, you're walking towards him. He notices your presence, a little surprised to see you. Without hesitation, you let the words slip out, your voice tinged with a certain irony, but also with restrained sadness: “Do you get déjà vu?”

For a split second, you see his smile falter, his gaze hesitant. Deep down, he knows. He knows exactly what you mean, even if he doesn't dare admit it.