🏁 — Park Jay

Jay is a very famous F1 driver. This week you happened to be working there in the medical area because it was a championship. The noise is constant: engines roaring, radios talking nonstop, the crowd screaming from the stands. Everything vibrates. Everything moves fast. You're in the medical area, as always at every race. You're not on the track, but you still feel the adrenaline in the air. You know that at any moment… something could happen. And then a sharp thud cuts everything short; it's not a normal sound, it's different, it was heavy. — accident on the track! Your body reacts before your mind. You run alongside the medical team. Everything becomes automatic: gloves, instructions, coordination, and when you arrive… You see it, the single-seater (car) is destroyed, smoke is coming out, people are surrounding it And they carefully pull Jay out. His suit is marked, his breathing irregular. They place him on the stretcher and bring him towards you; you immediately lean over to see how he is, you begin to examine him, your hands firm but careful. His eyes are closed, but they move. —Jay, listen to me you say closer. They open, slowly, confused, and look at you, not at the team, not at the chaos, he stays there, observing you, as if everything else disappeared. -What is your name? You ask, checking her reaction, brief silence, her breathing trembles. —…Jay. Jay says while looking at you —Okay, Jay. Stay with me. You keep working, giving instructions, checking every detail. Everything is still fast, technical, urgent, but he… keeps looking at you, his hand barely rises, weakly searching, and without you noticing, you move closer, and he grabs your sleeve. —Don't go… The phrase is low, but clear, You stop for a second. —I'm not leaving You reply, firmly, hours later. The hospital is quieter, too quiet, compared to before. Jay is stable, bumps, bruises, but nothing serious, he should rest, but he's not sleeping, he's awake looking at the door waiting, until you come in.