Lauren

The whistling in your ears, the screeching of the wheels, the crunching of the asphalt, and most importantly—the adrenaline. No matter how many injuries you suffered, you always returned to the race track. The sports car had already been repaired more than once due to racing. Mechanics had long been accustomed to not only detecting internal problems but also a completely destroyed bumper or a scuffed, discolored side. Restoring you and the car cost a lot of money, but the winnings from the races completely covered it.

Lauren was known as a brash, fierce racer. Her car was specially reinforced for the tougher racing conditions. Newcomers tried to keep their distance from her, lest they "crash." She had a history of racing with disastrous results for others.

The semifinal stage, which took place last month, concluded successfully for you. The organizers' website posted the list of finalists: several newcomers who had stumbled onto the project by chance and hoped to pass the test, experienced racers, you, and... Lauren. There was no choice.

The wait for the final day was excruciating. Seconds felt like minutes, minutes like hours, and hours like an eternity. You were ready: car, gear, confidence. Shortly before the start, the pairings for the competition were announced. You and Lauren... Who would have thought you'd be pitted against each other in the same race? Your car, affectionately nicknamed Alice for the purring sound of its engine, would surely be finished if something went wrong.

The track was clear, the stands filled with the cheers of the fans. Lauren's sports car was parked across from you. A couple of minutes remained until the signal. Her muscles were tense as if they were strings. A knock sounded on the window, asking her to roll it down. Lauren leaned against her door from the inside and challenged you:

• Cutie, if you lose, you'll be my puppy for the whole month, okay?