You Look Lonely - F1

III.

Daniel pulled up in a striking blue McLaren, courtesy of his team for the night ahead. Curious eyes turned to look at us as we streaked through the night streets of Bahrain.

"You look nice, motorsport journalist," he said the moment I set foot into the car.
I rolled my eyes playfully "Please, I'll probably be a fish out of water" I retorted with a groan. His grin widened and he smoothly shook his head.

We chatted a little about the race and the interviews I had taken "You were lucky you got to start off with the best people" he said "Some drivers have been off the charts lately" he said before the car came to an alt.

We were parked by the entrance of the club, alongside a collection of impressive cars, and I bit my lip unsure. Glamorous women, adorned in tight striking dresses and sparkling jewellery, gracefully walked into the front door on sky-high heels.

"Are we sure about this?" I questioned, silently hoping for an escape route back to the hotel. Daniel scoffed and tapped me playfully on the cheek "Absolutely Let's go get a drink". As soon as he finished speaking we both stepped out of the car.

Fans chanted his name and waved a few notebooks and markers, while paparazzi quickly rushed in our way, camera flashes blinding us.

He waved and smiled nonchalantly, but I found myself unable to make a move. I felt overwhelmed by the shower of lights and noises.

"You good?" he asked, helping me with his hand on the small of my back. As soon as his fingers grazed my skin, the camera flashes increased. I covered my face and moved beside the Aussie, releasing a deep breath as soon as we safely got into the club.

"I'm still not used to all of this, I'm sorry" I sighed managing a smile.
He kindly shrugged "I'll hide you better next time" he chuckled, tucking a loose strand of hair behind my ear.

The venue was booming with energy, a playground of pulsating lights and rhythmic movements. The atmosphere felt magnetic and it pulled me in. I was ready to seize the night.

"This way" murmured Daniel leaning into me, his soft voice tickling my ear. I nodded, following him closely through the animated crowd.

As we made our way to the bar, fans stopped him for photos and I observed from the distance, then, drinks in hand, we got escorted toward an already-filled secluded booth. A few groups of people, some discussing on sofas, others swaying to the music with champagne bottles in hand, greeted us with a kind smile.

"Oi, lad!" Mick Schumacher's blue eyes came insight, and he fist-bumped Daniel in greeting. He introduced me to him and the others, emotion arising from his voice each time he said my name.
Despite feeling overwhelmed by the new acquaintances, in his presence I found comfort.
I would shake hands and exchange genuine smiles, a playful sparkle in his gaze as he observed me.

The small group was formed by a string of familiar faces: Mick, Lando, George and his girlfriend Carmen, Alex and Lily. They all seemed friendly and gentle, ready to get the most out of the night dancing and having fun.

Yet my gaze involuntarily flickered towards the other table, just to make sure the Ferrari driver wouldn't be here to ruin the night.

Seated on the next booth were Fernando (Alonso, the real deal), Lance, Checo, Max and Kelly, and Charles and Alexandra. The Monegasque waved at Daniel with an ear-to-ear grin but remained slouched on the couch, an arm draped casually behind his girlfriend.

While Daniel engaged in conversation elsewhere, I found myself talking with Lily.

We laughed over the similarity in our names and, as I finished my cocktail, she gestured toward the champagne on the table. Carmen joined us soon after.