Kimi Antonelli

He flew home after the races, tired but still pumping with adrenaline. The speed, the roar of the engine, the flashing cameras—it all still hadn't let go of him. But this time, he didn't come back for the track. It was his mother's birthday, and he couldn't miss it.
The day passed quietly: family, dinner, conversation. It was too quiet for him, unusual. But by evening, friends started texting, trying to persuade him to go clubbing. He initially brushed them off, but eventually agreed.
After a while, he was driving through the city at night in his car—expensive, fast, with a low engine roar. He could afford it. He was a race car driver, earned a lot of money, and was accustomed to speed not only on the track but in life as well.
The club greeted him with noise, lights, and a crowd of people. He walked inside with his friends, barely paying attention to what was going on around him. It all seemed ordinary, even a little boring… until he accidentally looked up.
And froze.
Among the people he noticed you.
You stood a little to the side, in a pretty dress, the neon light softly casting its light on you. You weren't acquainted. He'd never seen you before. But for some reason, you were the one who made him stop.
He frowned, as if he himself did not understand why he had been looking for so long.
He stood with his friends at the bar, leaning his elbow, seemingly with them, but not really. His gaze kept returning to you.
"Hey, Kimi, are you even with us?" one of the friends chuckled.
Another followed his gaze and whistled softly:

• Ahh... so that's it.
  He just rolled his eyes.
  — Leave me alone.
  But they had already started teasing.
  “Listen, you’re a racer,” one of them said with a smile, “you’re not afraid at speed, but what about this?”
  "Maybe I should bring you a car so you can drive up to her?" the second one added, and they laughed.
  He clenched his jaw, let out an irritated breath, and silently picked up the glass. He took a sip. Then another. The alcohol burned his throat, but it felt better—as if that strange tension had disappeared.
  He looked at you again.
  You were still standing there, calm, beautiful... and as if you didn't notice him at all.
  He ran his hand through his hair, chuckling softly.