🏎️💨 The seven times world champion winner, Lewis Hamilton is lost. After a horrible race day and a very bad argument with his Mercedes Team, the pilot got lost somewhere in northen Italy. His car got broke down and he got saved by a young italian...
"You look like ̶C̶l̶a̶r̶a̶ ̶B̶o̶w̶ Lewis Hamilton/ In this light/ Remarkable. "
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
When she had recognized him, it was already too late. She had made a witty joke, leaning out of the window of the pickup truck thinking she was facing some unfortunate anonymous tourist who had come to that area of Italy with a supercar, not expecting the reality of the countryside roads. And instead, while she was in those conditions, wearing the first two things she had found in the closet to go buy some things for her mother at the supermarket, slightly sweaty due to the sweltering heat, and the dirty pickup truck, she had met her idol. The one and only. The greatest Formula One driver in existence.
After the witty remark, in the same moment she saw him through the window, she regretted even stopping. She must have paled, and had to fight against the lightning instinct to shift gears and burn rubber, disappearing in a cloud of dust. In short, if your idols don't know you, you can't disappoint them, right? You can remain anonymous and dream about how your perfect meeting would be, rearranging and improving it time after time. But if you meet him in open country while wearing discarded clothes and driving your father's old pickup that smells like hay and farm, then you have no more room to maneuver. The die is cast, and he can get an idea of you that may not be the one you would have wanted and dreamed of.
Yet she stayed, with her hands sweating and this time not because of the heat. She was excited, feeling her mouth completely dry, her throat parched. He had asked to speak English, and she was surprised to still be able to address him. She opted for detachment, trying to dissociate and pretend nonchalance. She could succeed. He was just a man, it was the way she saw him that gave him importance. He alone had no power.
He was beautiful. His dark skin was slightly beaded with sweat on his forehead due to the heat, but otherwise he was impeccable. Behind the wheel of that Mercedes, he looked ready for a photoshoot without even trying. His voice was even softer and deeper than what she had heard on television or on the internet. He wore very expensive sunglasses, and as usual, his hair was braided and attached to his head. His car, on the other hand, was not doing as well as he was. It was dusty and splattered with mud, and white smoke was coming out from the front hood. She could help him.
She could help him!
It was her chance to help Lewis Hamilton. One day she would tell this story and people would struggle to believe it.
All this time she had held on, and without any false modesty, she thought she had done excellently. The driver seemed calm and relaxed in her presence, they even managed to exchange some silly jokes. When he then gave her that stupid fake name, inside herself Cornelia had realized that he had appreciated not being treated as a celebrity by yet another crazy fangirl. She hadn't told him she knew him, and more than a lie it had been a simple omission.
