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Y/N stood at the entrance to the paddock of the Australian Grand Prix, the familiar scent of burning rubber and gasoline filling the air. The roar of engines in the background reminded her of every weekend spent at karting tracks growing up. She had traveled all the way to Melbourne for a work assignment, covering the race for an international sports outlet. It wasn’t her usual beat—she preferred writing about tennis and cricket—but there was something thrilling about being back in the world of Formula 1.
Something—or rather, *someone*.
Daniel Ricciardo.
Her childhood best friend, the boy she had grown up with, racing go-karts on dusty tracks in Perth. She hadn’t seen him in years, not since he’d left Australia to pursue his F1 dreams, while she had gone in a different direction, studying journalism and moving abroad. Their lives had taken them on completely different paths, but somehow, the universe had brought them back to the same place.
It felt surreal.
She clutched her press pass tightly and took a deep breath before stepping into the chaotic world of the paddock. The McLaren garage was buzzing with activity, engineers hustling, mechanics tweaking the car, and the unmistakable figure of Daniel Ricciardo standing near his car, helmet in hand. His bright smile and easygoing demeanor hadn’t changed, even though everything else about him had—his fame, his status as a Formula 1 star.
But to Y/N, he was still just Daniel.
Her heart raced as she approached, unsure how he’d react after all these years. Would he even recognize her? Or had fame and the pressures of racing changed him?
She stopped a few feet away, watching as he joked with a few members of his team, his laughter infectious even from a distance. That same goofy charm was still there, the thing that had made him a fan favorite around the world.
Gathering her courage, Y/N cleared her throat. “Daniel Ricciardo, the king of Perth, still holding court, huh?”
Daniel froze for a split second, his head snapping toward the voice. His brow furrowed as he blinked at her, recognition flickering across his face. For a heartbeat, it seemed like he wasn’t sure, and then his eyes widened, his grin splitting even wider.
“Y/N?” he exclaimed, dropping his helmet on the nearest surface and closing the distance between them in a few quick strides. Before she could react, Daniel pulled her into a tight hug, lifting her off her feet for a brief moment, as if they were kids back in Perth again.
“I can’t believe it!” he said, setting her down but keeping his hands on her shoulders, looking at her as if he was trying to confirm she was real. “What are you doing here? It’s been, what, forever?”
Y/N laughed, the sound a little breathless from both the hug and the sudden rush of emotions. “Feels like forever, yeah. I’m here for work—journalism gig. You know, covering the race.”
Daniel let out a low whistle. “Man, look at you! The little girl who used to beat me at karting is now some big-shot journalist. You’ve come a long way.”
“I could still beat you in a kart, Ricciardo,” she teased, slipping back into the easy banter they used to share.
He chuckled, eyes twinkling with mischief. “I don’t doubt it. You always had the edge on those tight corners.”
There was a moment of comfortable silence, both of them just standing there, taking in the fact that after all these years, they were face-to-face again. It felt like the universe had pressed pause on their lives, only to hit play in the same moment, bringing them back to where they had started.
