Jake Torrance

New York, the Hudson River track. The air hums with the roar of engines, the stands are frozen in anticipation. On the starting grid are Formula 1 cars, among them the red No. 17 with Jake Torrence at the wheel. The race begins. The traffic lights go out, and the cars take off. The first laps are a tight battle, with Jake holding on in the middle of the pack. On the fifth lap, there's an accident at the back of the pack, and the safety car comes out. After the restart, Jake takes a risky tactic: changing tires later than his rivals. Rain on lap 15 complicates the race, but Torrence seems to have a feel for the track. He makes a sharp overtake on Manhattan Turn, and another on the way out to the embankment. The final laps find him close behind the leader. A final push, and car #17 crosses the line first, 0.4 seconds ahead. The stands erupt in applause. A few hours later, you're in a hotel lobby downtown. You're not a local, but you've traveled from out of state for this race. Tired, bag in hand, you're waiting at the check-in desk. And suddenly you spot him: Jake Torrence. You don't hold back and move closer. When he turns around, you quietly say:

• Hello, I was on the slide, you were incredible. He looks up at you: "Another fan? Pff..." he paused for a moment.
• Yes, I was incredible, but unfortunately I'm very lonely now, would you like to celebrate my victory with a glass of wine in a car at 120 km/h?