Starting from the Pit lane - Lewis Hamilton

London

Melissa was a young woman, born in Naples to a Milanese father and an Emilian mother. However, she had spent her entire childhood and adolescence moving everywhere for his father, Andrea's, job. She had lived in almost all the Italian regions, she could have mentioned the missing ones first. She also lived, albeit for a short time, in Switzerland. Then, when she had just turned 16, the moves stopped because her parents divorced. It wasn't a happy divorce but her parents found a compromise and stopped fighting. Melissa stayed with her mother in Parma and her father came to visit her as often as he could, even if sporadically. They loved her and that was enough. Despite the hectic life she had lived she was happy. Satisfied. She lacked nothing, except a little stability.
Melissa's father found her a house in Milan and made her study, her biggest dream was to become a journalist. She wasn't interested in being known like her father but she envied the fact that he traveled the world. She didn't want to stay at home like her mother, who had been content with a "banal" office job.
She had graduated early and started an internship at the young age of 25. Where? She would follow the news crews for half of the Formula One grands prix. She had never cared about motorsport, her father defined himself as a fan of the Ferrari team only because he was Italian but he didn't have the time to start a family again, let alone if he could find the time to watch Formula One.

She had to study for several months to fully understand the dynamics that could be created between the drivers, between the teams and within the latter. The more she had to study, practically alone since they had only provided her with manuals, the entire mechanical part. A woman with a degree in communications found herself studying manuals on aerodynamics, mechanics and engineering. Furthermore, in order to better carry out her job as an apprentice and journalist, she had also read a book or two on psychology. She was exhausted, so much so that even though she hadn't even started the internship yet, she already wanted to go home. But she certainly wouldn't stop at the first difficulty. She had a dream and she would do anything to follow it.
Melissa soon found herself on an airliner to London, from which she would then reach the Silverstone circuit. She had a pass and the fact that she spoke five languages ​​correctly, including her native one, meant she was much more free than other interns who only had to follow a team based on the country of production of the car. Melissa would most likely have ended up mainly interviewing the drivers of Ferrari and Alfa Romeo, as they are Italian car manufacturers, but she would have had the opportunity to interview many other people.

She arrived at a squalid hotel in London, the only one that the management of the publishing house had pretended to be able to afford. She didn't even make the effort to unpack her suitcase because she would have already left for the circuit the following morning, which was well above Oxford.
She went to the bathroom to remove her make-up and literally couldn't wait to remove the lipstick that had now dried out her lips. They were without a doubt his favorite body part, they were full and plump and he did everything to keep them soft and hydrated.
It had warm tones and in fact the black and some shades of white hit it, but it looked good with all the shades of red and yellow. In autumn she wore brown clothes as if she were a model. By the way, she would have been a model if she hadn't been too short... and too curvy. She had a wonderful hourglass figure, ample breasts, a narrow waist but hips and thighs too curvy for that profession. Luckily she had fallen in love with journalism.
"In love" did I say? Melissa had had many relationships but all of them were very short, due to the thousand moves and the time she spent studying. She had never been attached to friends or even family really. She loved her parents and had a good relationship with them but he was also very superficial. She had never caused any problems and therefore no one had ever tried too hard to follow her.
She also removed her brown mascara which highlighted her honey eyes. They seemed fake since they were expressive. She put on her pajamas and tied her long brown hair up in clips before lying in bed and studying an hour before her first day of internship.
She collapsed with the clamp still holding her hair in place, her eyeglasses on, her notebook in her lap and the bedside lamp on.
Melissa woke up from a dream around half past one, settled down, turned off the light and actually went to bed.
Waking up was traumatic, she was sleepy, it was very early, it was dark outside and it was also very cold. England was not as welcoming as Italy. She did her makeup, almost, to perfection. She wanted to make a good impression but she also didn't want to be seen as someone who focuses everything on appearance. She put on some curlers and went out like that. After a very long bus journey she arrived at her destination and took off her curlers one stop before getting off, put them in her backpack and got off with notebook and pen in hand. She had managed to obtain beautiful soft curls... too bad the hostile climate would have ruined them soon.
But a little humidity could never quench the will in her eyes.