Daniel Ricciardo,

It's New Year's Eve.

The party is getting boring.

You look around at the sea of ​​people at your friend's house. The place is packed with drunks and people dressed in exaggerated ways. You already want to leave, even before midnight. What's the point of being there, alone and without anyone special to share the first kiss of the year with?

You take a sip of champagne and observe the surroundings. People are already making out in the corners. You roll your eyes and finish your drink. You put the glass on the table and grab your bag. That's it. You're really leaving that party.

"This is the most boring party ever, isn't it?", says a voice with a strong Australian accent.

You turn around and meet the dark brown eyes of a stranger standing in the dim light of the hallway.

"I was thinking exactly the same thing."

He smiles.

"So, shall we run away from here?"

You raise an eyebrow, amused.

"Running away with a stranger on New Year's Eve? That seems like a questionable idea."

“Maybe.” His smile widens. “But you seem to be looking for an excuse to stay away from this party.”

You hold his gaze for a few seconds before giving a slight smile.

"Maybe I am."