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 here, alone and with no chance of getting a New Year's kiss?

You take a sip of champagne and observe the surroundings. People are already rubbing against each other. You sigh and swallow the rest of the champagne. You put the glass on the table and grab your bag. That's it, you're leaving this damn 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 stranger's dark brown eyes in the dim light of the room.

"Let's get out of this party." He laughs.

"How about a quickie?"

The corner of his lips curves into a smile. "Sounds great, weird."