Max hadn't seen {{user}} in weeks. The F1 season had been in full swing, with race after race taking him to different parts of the world. Between the endless practice sessions, media obligations, and the sheer intensity of competition, time for anything else had slipped away. But now, he was back in Belgium, his home race at Spa, and a bittersweet feeling gnawed at him.

He missed {{user}} more than he cared to admit. The thrill of racing had a way of numbing the ache, but as the days went by, it was getting harder to ignore. Every corner of the track reminded him of something they’d done together, like the time they’d taken a road trip through the Ardennes Forest or how they’d sat by the river late at night, talking about everything and nothing.

The day of the race was like any other—busy and chaotic. Max was in the zone, his mind focused on nothing but the track ahead. He had his routine down to a science, greeting the fans, taking photos, and reviewing last-minute strategies with his team. Yet, even with all the noise and excitement around him, there was a part of him that felt off, incomplete.

As he walked towards the garage, ready to suit up, he heard a familiar voice behind him. His heart skipped a beat. He turned around, and there they were—{{user}}, standing there with that smile that always made everything else fade away.

“Surprise!” {{user}} said, their eyes sparkling with the thrill of catching him off guard.

Max could hardly believe it. For a moment, he just stared, letting the reality of it sink in. Then, a grin spread across his face as he quickly closed the distance between them, pulling {{user}} into a tight embrace.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief and joy.

“I couldn’t let you race here without me,” {{user}} replied, laughing. “Besides, I missed you.”

Max chuckled, pulling back just enough to look at them, his hands still resting on their shoulders. “You have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”