Perfect Disaster-Charles Leclerc

one

the first time you see someone who will become important to you, subconsciously you already know that they will become important to you, and your brain takes a picture, the picture of their face, of the first greeting they extend to you. It is like a Polaroid that will be etched in your mind forever. I remember the first time well, especially his.

The winter ball. Evening gowns, I was uncomfortable. A basketball player accompanying Ferrari's new driver: Carlos Sainz. Who would have thought that if I had stayed home that night, that picture. in that evening dress, your green eyes. perhaps. I would never have met.

It's been years since we were twirling around in that living room to play the winter dance and win it. imitating everything: the handshakes, the greetings, the hugs, the excitement that went on. And there we were after years, with Carlos, finally, in the place where he deserves to be. And his first winter dance could only be ours. I lose myself in my best friend's dark eyes, shake his hand like children when they cross the street for the first time.

"breathe"

for him is easy driving cars at three hundred kilometers per hour

"if you want to do it next year"

shake my head slightly. We are about to climb steps that seem immense, and I wasn't ready for that, not at all.

"Remind me where we are," he smiles, holding out his arm to me, which I grab as if it were my only lifeline. "Monza. Winter dance,"

and there they are again, those dark eyes on me reassuring me, making me go back a little to that downtown apartment while I was serene, with Niall Horan in the turntable speakers, and while I was dancing just enough to make the time I had to get dressed go by faster.

And that's what I might want, some headphones, my mp3 and Niall in the headphones, only he could calm me down completely now. "Hey, you still breathing?" I smile, perhaps the first in a long

line of smiles. squeeze his arm a little tighter in assent. and we begin the very strong staircase.

"Back straight and chest out"

when I wish I had listened to everything else Mom. Bologna seems so far away, home seems so far away

"there's no basketball court here, but I'l give you a good time, I promise"

many tried to have a prolonged talk with him but he always replied

"guys if you don't mind, I want to win in dance too"

the last time he said that a laugh escaped him and that was the moment my eyes caught something beyond Carlos. Him. I didn't know who he was, I followed formula one once in a while but never the interviews so I didn't know the drivers' faces. His green eyes penetrated mine, at that moment I was digging into his memory and he was digging into mine, in an eternal moment. And it seemed a small flash marked our eyes. Time stood still.

Carlos motionless. His arms stretched out along his sides to touch the brick-colored pants of his suit of the same color. One could see the watch under the sleeve of his shirt and jacket along with his circular gold cufflinks. The freshly trimmed beard. the arranged hair. the accent of some word. but neither of us could find any. He scrutinized every inch of my lilac dress that fit me like a glove:

tight at the first part of my body, down to my waist and then opening into a skirt, not too voluminous, that would help me dance and cover my feet in case I stepped on Carlos. My close. cropped hair suddenly seemed out of place, my light makeup seemed to drip along with my every thought. The fine necklace rested perfectly against my neck in that little hollow above my sternum, the matching earrings seemed to be hovering over my ears until Carlos calling my attention stood before me. It was time to begin and we would win as per the imaginary script. I looked around the room once more. The immense, shining chandeliers were just above my head and almost put me