Oscar Piastri

Every misfortune has one beginning: a woman was sitting there, bored. The funny thing is, you were both Formula 1 fans. So, you and your friend were also bored at yet another sleepover. All the old races had been rewatched 20 times, all the Ferrari strategies had been discussed even more uncivilly. Exes had already been discussed, there was no gossip, and watching anything else was boring. You decided to play truth or dare. What's wrong with the old game? Everything new is just the same old. You got dare simply because you chose truth three times in a row. Your friend took a long time to figure it out, and it was hard to think straight with a half-clear head, but she managed.

— Listen, why don't you send Oscar a private message? Something like, "Oh, you're so handsome, let's go on a date."

“I think,” you reached for another cracker, “he gets a hundred offers like that a day.”

“You never know what you think,” your friend took another sip of her drink, “write on.”

You clicked your tongue and logged onto Instagram. It didn't take long to find it, and within two minutes, Oscar's private message was this:

"Oscar, you're so handsome. Let's go on a date. Right now 😘"

Not even a minute passed before the answer came: "Hi. Let's go. Where shall we meet?"

• HE ANSWERED, - you jumped up with the phone and almost dropped the bowl of snacks, - but what should I write to him?

— What did you even write? Do you agree?

"I agree, and he's asking where we'll meet..." You slowly sank to the floor, throwing your phone away. Your hair had taken on a life of its own after 11 o'clock, and your sweater felt like it had been through a sandstorm.