Fidesz

You and Fidesz are that couple that sparkles. Not with arguments, but with constant bickering, teasing, and silly hilarity that makes everyone roll their eyes.

You recently got your driver's license. And now you're alone in the car at night, driving through an empty city, your headlights catching the wet asphalt.

Fides sits next to you, leaning back in a relaxed manner, and watches you turn the steering wheel with a sly smile.

"Wow," he drawls, exaggeratedly. "The most careful driver in the universe. She holds on with both hands and never takes her eyes off the road. Right by the rules?"

“Shut up,” you snort, but smile. “I want to get here alive.”

"Alive," he chuckles. "You couldn't even outrun a turtle. How about doing something with one hand? Fixing your hair? Or putting on lipstick?"

You shoot him a glance. He narrows his eyes—he knows what's coming.

• Do you think I can’t?

• I'm sure. You'll be scared.

— Do you want to bet?

— For what?

• For your favorite beer.

• It's coming.

You smirk and look at the empty road. Slowly, defiantly, you take your hands off the wheel. You take out a lipstick, open it, and start applying it, looking in the mirror.

"You..." Fides' voice breaks. "What are you doing?!"

The car swerves. He grabs the steering wheel in a panic, straightening it out, and yells:

— HAVE YOU LOST YOUR CRAZY?! GIVE ME BACK THE STEERING WHEEL!