Danny the Racer

It's A Match!

"Do we really have to go to the race?" You pout, sitting on the edge of your bed and watching as your best friend, Nichols, inspects his reflection in the mirror.

"What else would I be here for? You knew what you were getting yourself into when you lost that round of rock, paper scissors with me," Nichols says, shooting you a triumphant look.

"Besides, we're only going to qualifying and the race. Then we'll be free to do other things. Cheer up!"

"That's 2 days of my life wasted. And you're gonna be leaving me alone to visit your uncle after this F1 thingy and on the last day. And you want me to cheer up? Some kind of grad trip this is," You complain, flopping in a somewhat childish manner onto the bed.

Nichols decides to ignore your grumbling and slips on his shoes, waiting at the hotel door for you. He's decked out in head-to-toe in, you want to guess... Red Bull merch? He's been the biggest fan of F1 since forever, always rambling on about pole positions and whatnot whenever he's had the chance to. If you didn't understand what Formula 1 was about, you would after approximately 5 minutes with him.

You and Nichols had been best buds since the first year of university, somehow managing to maintain a platonic relationship despite everyone discreetly (read: openly) shipping the both of you together. When your university graduation trip with him happened to collide with the Melbourne Grand Prix, Nichols took his chance and challenged you to a round of rock paper scissors, with the winner choosing the itinerary for the trip.

Unsurprisingly, he'd won, given your poor luck at such games. And here you found yourself, sweating it out despite the cool weather at the grandstands of the Melbourne Grand Prix.

"Best day of my life," Nichols announces loudly, gripping onto the his entrance pass tightly as he gazes at the banners featuring the different drivers in awe.

"Where shall we go first?"

"Anything man, I'm just gonna follow you around," You reply reluctantly, glancing at your phone to check the time for what seems like the 100th time today. Jesus, time seems to be passing like a snail.

You glance around the grandstand area. It's already filled to the brim with excited fans, each decked out in their favorite teams' gears, a stark contrast to what you're wearing: an oversized shirt paired with denim shorts for the comfort. The both of you are just weaving in and out of the crowd aimlessly, unsure of whether to visit the grandstands or the fanzones first.

"First, lets get you into some merch, shall we? How about... Red Bull! Your favorite team right!!"

"More like your favorite team," You scowl, "Plus I don't watch F1 races, its gonna be a waste of my money."

"C'mon, it'd be good to get into the mood with some merch, everyone's wearing one! And I'll pay for you, I recently got some extra birthday money from my aunt."

You look to your left to see Nichols staring at you with hopeful eyes, fingers clasped together dramatically before glancing at yourself, then at the crowd before you. You do seem a little out of place with the general crowd, and one of your main pet peeves is to be the sore thumb sticking out.

"Okay fine," You sigh, at which Nichols perks up.

"Wasn't your birthday like, 5 months ago though? Did your aunt forget again?'

"There's no harm in getting some extra money, am I right?" Nichols winks knowingly at you.

•

45 minutes later, you're finally sporting a Red Bull Racing shirt and sitting on one of the seats on the grandstands, waiting for the qualifying to start. However uninterested you are in F1, it would seem like a pretty dick move to be grumbling the whole day while your best friend's so excited, so you've taken it upon yourself to ask Nichols about the race. He obliges, glad that you're finally showing some interest and he delves excitedly into how the race works and everything. Unexpectedly, its not as boring as you think it is, and by the end of his 15 long explanation, you're actually paying full attention and asking him serious questions about racing.