Start Small, End Big.

Welcome To Montreal

The bright sun glowed brightly over the bustling city of Montreal. It was a perfect summer day in Canada, and the streets were alive with citizens enjoying the warmth. The skyline towered over the surrounding suburban neighborhoods, while the St. Lawrence River shimmered under the sunlight. The camera soared through the sky before diving down to the Wall of Champions track, where a thrilling race was underway. Two kids, seated with an empty spot beside them, watched the race unfold with excitement.

Liam: Jeez, listen to that V8 roar! It's so cool. It would be amazing to drive around this track at 300 kilometers an hour—the wind slamming against you. I wish.

Oliver gave Liam an incredulous look.

Oliver: You're such a car nerd. Holy. He chuckled.

Liam glared at Oliver, annoyed.

Liam: I am not. I just appreciate the marvel of machinery performing at its peak. There's nothing wrong with that.

Oliver rolled his eyes playfully.

Oliver: I just see cars going around in circles for hours. It's kinda boring, honestly.

Liam: You're such a party pooper, you know that?

Oliver: I know. He grinned.

Liam chuckled before turning his attention back to the race. Moments later, his mom approached and handed him a lobster roll, a beloved Canadian specialty.

Ava: Here, Liam. I know it's your favorite. I'm surprised they still had some—I thought they'd be sold out by now. How's the race?

Liam smiled.

Liam: Merci. (Thanks.) It's going great.

Ava: Pas de soucis. (No worries.) Is your favorite driver winning?

Liam: Not yet. He's not pushing the car hard enough—he's lagging behind. He's in fifth, though.

Ava: Maybe he's waiting for the right moment. You can't go all in all the time.

Liam: I guess, but he's got a fantastic car with a great engine. He's just not driving it right. I swear.

Oliver glanced at Liam.

Oliver: How do you know? Maybe the car actually sucks.

Liam: It's not the car. It's the driver.

Oliver: The car makes more sense.

Ava: I thought he was a good racer?

Liam: He is. Lance Stroll is amazing. He's one of the best. He's in F1 for a reason.

Ava: He'll make a comeback. I'm sure of it, miel. (Honey.)

*****

As the race progressed, Liam grew increasingly excited as his favorite racer began moving up the ranks. Meanwhile, Oliver scrolled through his phone nonchalantly, clearly uninterested.

Liam: Come on, Stroll, take the inside! Take the inside!

Lance Stroll took the inside lane, passing the leading racer. The car roared and whined with power, its engine fluttering with every gear shift. Liam watched in awe as Stroll reached the final lap, weaving effortlessly through corners. In his mind, Liam placed himself in the driver's seat, imagining what he'd do in the same situation. The world around him faded, leaving only the deafening roar of Stroll's engine.

Liam: Brake.

Stroll braked as the car approached a corner at 100 miles per hour.

Liam: Turn the wheel 40 degrees.

The steering wheel turned precisely 40 degrees.

Liam: Wait...

The car maintained its angle through the corner.

Liam: Now, turn to 60 degrees!

Stroll adjusted the wheel to 60 degrees.

Liam: Ride the apex... now!

The car surged through the apex, slingshotting into the straightaway. Liam closed his eyes and smiled, savoring the imaginary thrill of speeding through the streets of downtown or past Mount Royal with an engine roaring beneath him. His daydream was interrupted by Oliver's voice.

Oliver: You okay there, buddy? You're not celebrating. Your racer just won.

Liam: Wait, really?

Oliver: Look at the TV.

Liam glanced at the track's screen and saw Stroll standing on the podium, spraying champagne over the crowd.

Liam: Yeah, I figured he would.

Ava: You mean I did.

Liam: Sure, maman. He laughed.

Ava smiled.

Ava: All right, let's head home. Your dad's probably waiting for us—he's dying to show off his new games. She chuckled.

Oliver: He makes great games. What can I say?

Liam: Pssh. Shut up. You're just saying that because he gives you free games, you big nerd. He smirked.

Ava smiled at their playful banter as they walked toward the parking lot.

Oliver: I call shotgun!

Liam: Nope. My mom's got the passenger seat.

Ava: You know it, Ollie.

Oliver: But the back is annoying. Who puts one door on one side and not the other?

Liam: Hyundai. He grinned.

Liam unlocked his black Veloster N, and his mom climbed into the passenger seat while Oliver begrudgingly slid into the back. Liam pressed the start button, and the car roared to life. As he reversed out of the parking space, Ava noticed the car was in N mode.

Ava: Hey, we're not racing, Liam. Allez. (Come on.)

Liam: Oh, sorry. He laughed nervously. I forgot.

Ava rolled her eyes.

Ava: I know you're lying, Liam. You've got to stop living in the fast lane. Racing isn't a realistic career.

Liam: Nearly impossible.

Oliver: Just impossible.

Liam sighed.

Liam: Can we not talk about this? Let's just get home, okay?

Ava gave him a concerned look but said nothing. They drove through scenic forests and hills overlooking downtown and the St. Lawrence River before entering a modern gated neighborhood. Liam opened the garage with the button on his rearview mirror and parked in front of their decently sized house.