Chapter 15

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LEVI

Cordelia. The land of dreams. The country is basically an oversized Disneyland, with a queen and tones of cheese.
And it's where I am right now.

I'm still jet lagged from Bahrain. We finished the race some days ago, but I had to spend some time with post-race interviews and a gala, so I only arrived today. Tomorrow is the big birthday party where Yvonne and I will appear as a couple, and I'd lie if I'd say I am not the tiniest bit concerned.

To help impress her parents, I asked Lewis to burrow me a car. I have all mine in Monte Carlo and New York, but my best friend has his all around the world. And he happens to have some in Cordelia, he said. He assured me he'd offer me something extra nice, to make a good first impression. I sometimes do question his style, but let's hope we'll be alright.

I go past the controls and head over to the arrivals area. Since I have no vehicle here, Lewis said he arranged for someone to come and pass me the keys of the car, before I can go to the hotel. I plan on sleeping today, so that I can be at least half awake tomorrow.

At arrivals, I see a man wearing a black tux, black shirt, sunglasses on and headpiece, waiting for me with a "Levi Dyer" sign. However, I also see some fans wearing APOLLO gear and cheering my name on the way. Truth is, I don't usually come to Cordelia, I've been here once or twice, I think. Once for a Formula One event hosted here, and the other one for the queen's wedding.

I make a detour and walk to the fans first. They all start screaming as they see me, and I can see some are filming. I first stop at a little boy that was in the first row and bend on my knees to reach his eyes. The crowd around us stills.

"What's your name, young man?", I ask him.

He smiles, fidgeting with his APOLLO T-Shirt. "Benjamin."

"It's nice to meet you, Benjamin. I'm Levi."

"I know", he tells me, now smiling bright. "You made me want to become a racer."

This is what we do it for. It's times like this you think that maybe you're not a total screwup, and you help others dream. It's times like this that we do this for.

"I'm glad to hear that", I answer honestly. It's then I take off my cap, because screw it, and ask around for a marker. One of the girls waiting there hands me one, and I sign an autograph on my APOLLO cap, and place it on his head.

With a wink, I stand back up and give some autographs to the crowd gathered. Once I'm sure I talked to all, I wave with a wink and head over to the man waiting for me.

"Sorry for the wait", I tell him, with a smirk on my face.

He doesn't look so happy. Honestly, he makes no reaction. "Here are the keys." He then pulls out a clipboard with a pen and points with his finger at a box. "You need to sign here."

"Lewis said that?", I asked, quickly going over the contract. Pro tip: always read the contract. Even the fine print. A few minutes reading can save you months of suffering. That's the first tip I got once I entered Formula One.

The second one would be from a race driver that now retired who told me: Race fast, fuck harder.

"It's protocol. The car Mr. Cunnan arranged for you is off the market, and there are only a few left in the world. It's been kept at the APOLLO museum until now, but has been taken out for you to use it."

Sweet.

Once I went through the whole thing and agree with it, I give a quick signature and the man offers me the keys. He leads me outside to the car, and I feel like a kid in a candy store as I see it. It's an APOLLO Golden. Designed as an homage to the 1920s, the car shows the glam and elegance one would see in the Great Gatsby or so. It's a vintage convertible, the color of mint, with four seats, made of brown leather.

"Merry Christmas to you too, Lewis", I mumble before I open the car and sit on the driver's seat.

This feeling...simply priceless. I could get high by simply driving this car, this is how I feel right now.

After I had my delusional moment, I remember that I still have some bags and step outside to place them in the trunk. As I'm done, I thank the man who offered me the keys with a nod again and start driving.

All jet lag is forgotten as I open my GPS and realise: Cordelia is a small country. With a lake. And one road that surrounds the lake, that has been voted as one of the world's most beautiful streets.

And I just happen to have a vintage car perfect for the job.

Feeling better than ever, I start following the signs taking me out of the capital city of Broix and towards the panoramic circuit around Lake Melore.

Fucking paradise.

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