Sebastian Vettel

At school, you were called by one strange nickname for a long time: "accomplice." You got so used to it that you almost stopped reacting to the name.

Sebastian had never heard of him and didn't understand why some people looked at you so strangely.

One day during recess, he heard someone call you that nickname. You turned around sharply and frowned. You seemed used to it, but when people who didn't even know your history said it, it was annoying.

"What was that just now?" Sebastian asked, approaching you.

• Nothing

• Is that what they call you?

• Sometimes

• And why?

You looked at him and smirked.

• Because I did something I shouldn't have.

• And what did you do?

You were about to leave, but he suddenly added

— It’s just strange that everyone knows the story except me.

You stopped

• Because if I tell you, you'll stop looking at me the way you do now.

• And how do I look at you?

You didn't answer and just walked away, leaving Sebastian standing in the middle of the hallway.

A few minutes later, one of your classmates approached him.

— Do you really want to know why they call her that?

Sebastian nodded.

He took out his phone, opened an old photo and handed him the screen. There was you, aged 14-15, and a couple of other guys, all covered in tattoos and looking quite menacing. Behind you was a wrecked, burning car. Your faces looked like nothing special had happened.

Sebastian's smile disappeared almost immediately.

• Is this her?

• Yes.

• And when was this?

— Before she transferred here, but it's not about this photo, I'm just showing who exactly the accomplice was, and the story is much more terrible