Thursday, 2:12 PM
The sky was a perfect shade of blue, the sun shining bright, and Leo Vargas-Clairmont was the definition of happy. No, scratch that—he was ecstatic. Not because he had a race coming up. Not even because winning a Grand Prix could match this feeling. 'No.. this was better.'
He had Ava Sinclair squirming. It was an exhilarating kind of satisfaction, almost like pulling off the perfect overtake on the last lap. If F1 didn't work out, he was certain he could have a future as a detective. He had caught her red-handed. She thought she could fool him—giving a fake number, staying mysterious—but Leo had connections.
A simple request to his manager, James Maddon, and a little help from the art gallery owner's daughter (who was a huge fan of his, naturally), and just like that, he had her real number.
And now?
She was pissed.
Leo scrolled through his last message. Still read, but unanswered. She was ignoring him. That only made it more fun. His phone rang as he stepped into his suite.
Rrrinnnnggg... Rrrinnnnggg... caller shown *James Maddon*
Leo sighed. The man who scouted him at 17. The man who still treated him like a reckless teenager. 'What does he want now?' he mumbled before answering.
Leo: "Yeah?"
James: "Leo! Finally... You've been dodging me for four
days. Where the hell have you been?"
Leo: "Told you, I needed to let loose."
James: "My idea of 'letting loose' is a night out and then
back to work. You? You disappeared off my radar. Not
cool, man."
Leo: "Relax. I'm back. What's up?"
James: "What's up?! Tomorrow is the pre-race screening
test. No clubs. No alcohol. Just water. And—"Leo half-listened, running a hand through his hair.
James: "—you got an exclusive feature with GP Racing
magazine next month. The centerfold interview."
Leo silenced.
Leo: "No way. Are you serious?"
James: "Would I joke about this? Get to the circuit now. And bring your race suit."
Leo grinned ear to ear. This was huge. GP Racing's centerfold meant major exposure—it was a chance to speak about his racing ambitions, push for sponsorship deals, and maybe—just maybe—get noticed by McLaren, Mercedes, or Ferrari. He was turning 27 this year. It was time to expand his wings. And if he won this weekend? Even better.
Leo grabbed his custom glass case containing his race suit and called his two bodyguards. The city was packed with tourists and fans—ever since he arrived, the crowd had tripled. He stepped into his armored black Mercedes Sprinter— one of his best investments. In F1, security wasn't just a luxury—it was a necessity. As the car pulled away, his phone buzzed. A message from Ava. Leo's heart jumped. He unlocked his phone in record time.
Ava: Hell no.
His grin widened. Oh, she's tough to crack. Without hesitation, he called her.
One ring.
Two rings.
Three rings.
Four rings— Then, she picked up. Leo couldn't contain his excitement.
Leo: "You know you owe me, right?"
Ava: "I owe you shit."
Leo: "Hahahaha. Since you refuse to go on a date with me, I need an apology instead. Not just any apology—an extravagant one."
Ava: "Ugh. I hate you."
Leo: "You think you hate me, but you still owe me. So,
Ava—pick your poison. Date or extravagant apology?"
Ava: "Fine. If you win this Grand Prix, I'll consider one date. And one date only."
Leo's jaw dropped. "Wait, that's not fair! You 're changing the deal!"
Ava: "Take it or leave it."
Leo smirked. "Alright, fine. But I'm not waiting for race day. If I won Monaco—one date. Deal?"
A pause. Then a groan. Ava: "Ugh... Fine."
Leo chuckled. "See you soon, my love."
He could practically picture her annoyed expression, her almond eyes narrowing, her lips scrunched to the side. She was so cute when she was mad.
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Leo changed into his race suit, white with blue and mustard accents. 'One day, I'll be wearing a Ferrari red.' As he zipped up, James approached. "Alright, listen up. Keep your answers short but smart. Promote our team. Don't frown."
Leo grabbed James's shoulders and smirked. "James.. I've got this. Yeah" With confidence radiating off him, he walked into the interview room.
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GP Racing Interview
Garrett held out his hand to shake it with him, "Welcome, Mr. Vargas-Clairmont! I'm Garrett, and this is my assistant, Nicole. Congratulations on being our centerfold for the June 2024 edition!"
Leo shakes Garrett's hand, flashing his signature grin. "Thank you, Garrett. And thanks to GP Racing for this honor. Just call me Leo—'Mr. Vargas-Clairmont' makes me feel like I should be giving a TED Talk instead of driving a car at 300 km/h."
Garrett laughed, "Fair enough, Leo. Let's get right to it— what made you fall in love with racing? And do you love all kinds of racing, or is F1 your one true passion?"
Leo leans back, stretching his arms dramatically. "Racing is the only thing that lets me legally go way over the speed limit without getting arrested. So yeah, that's a huge plus. But really, it's the rush—the way time slows down when you 're in control of a machine that is powerful. You're not just driving; you 're taming something wild. Every fraction of a second matters, and every decision you make could change everything. There's nothing like it. And as for the second question—I love all kinds of racing. Put me in a go-kart, a rally car, hell, even a jet ski, and I'll find a way to have fun. But F1? That's the ultimate test. It's not just about speed; it's about precision, endurance, and being three moves ahead of the competition at all times. It's a high-speed chess match, except if you make a bad move, you might end up in the wall." he elaborated and ended with laughs.
Garrett nodded and continued questioning him, "That's a hell of a way to put it. Now, what's been the most challenging moment in your career so far, and how did you overcome it?"
Leo rubbed his chin, pretending to think hard. "Probably trying to parallel park in Monaco. Those streets are NOT made for normal human beings, let alone an F1 driver. But if we're talking actual racing—Abu Dhabi 2022. The heat was something else that year. We're already sitting inches from the ground, so we're basically marinating in engine heat, plus the track itself was cooking us like a rotisserie chicken. Last time, I was losing focus by lap 20, and at that level, even the tiniest lapse can cost you everything. But I remembered this ridiculous trick a local driver told me—a damp towel inside the helmet and Kool-Aid sprayed on the suit. I thought he was messing with me, but I tried it. Worked like magic. Kept me just cool enough to refocus and push through. And the best part? Now half the paddock smells like fruit punch during race weekends."
Garrett laughed hard, "So that was YOU? Damn, I owe you—I carry Kool-Aid packs everywhere now. I'm not built for the heat, man.
"See? Racing knowledge benefits everyone." Leo grinned.
Garrett then continued, "Alright, moving on. What's something you've learned from F1 that helps you in real life?"
Leo answered with confidence, "Two things: focus and patience. Focus—because when you're driving at 300 km/h, one wrong move means your day is over, and possibly your career. So now, I notice everything. If someone in a restaurant blinks weirdly, I'm immediately wondering if they're lying about something. My observation skills are basically a superpower at this point. And patience—because you can 't just go full throttle all the time, in racing or in life. Sometimes, you've gotta wait for the perfect moment to strike. Timing is everything in F1. Like when you text someone and they leave you to read for hours..." Leo pauses dramatically, then smirks, remembering Ava.
Garrett understands, "Oh damn, you just called someone out!"
Leo replied, "I don 't make the rules, Garrett. I just suffer from them."
Garrett chuckled with amusement, "Alright, next question. How do you see the future of racing?"
Leo paused then speak, *"I mean, we're already halfway into the future, right? Everything's digital, AI is getting scary good, and we've got simulations that can basically predict the outcome of a race before we even step on the track. But no matter how advanced we get, nothing will ever replace the human element. The instinct, the unpredictability, the risk-taking—that's what makes racing electric. Fans don 't just want perfection; they want emotion, drama, and those moments where drivers do something insane that a machine would never dare to try. So yeah, the future is cool and all, but I'm still betting on us flawed, adrenaline-junkie humans to keep things interesting."
Garrett clapped his hands, "Love that answer. Okay, the most waiting questions of the day—are you dating anyone, Leo?"
Leo feigns shock and smiles. "What? ME? A simple, humble man just trying to drive fast and live his life? Surely no one would be interested in such a thing." Grins, then shrugs. "Alright, alright—I'm not officially dating anyone. But let's just say there's someone who's been making my life... very interesting."
Garrett exclaimed, "Oh, I feel like we need more details."
Leo shook his head "Patience, my friend. Like I said, timing is everything." Leo then winks at the camera.
Garrett laughs hard, "Okay, moving on before you get me in trouble. If you could race against any F1 legend, past or present, who would it be?"
Leo chuckled, "Easy. Ayrton Senna. No contest. He wasn't just a driver; he was a magician. The way he controlled a car in the rain? Unreal. I'd want to race him in wet conditions, just to see if I could even keep up. Would I win? Hell no. But I'd learn more in one race with him than in years of training."
Garrett then said "Senna in the rain is nightmare fuel for most drivers, but I respect the ambition. Okay, last question —what advice would you give to aspiring F1 drivers?"
Leo leans forward, suddenly in serious mode. "You have to love this more than anything. More than sleep, more than comfort, more than your own ego. You 'll have people telling you you 're not good enough. You 'll face rejection, doubt, bad races, and worse luck. If hearing that makes you second-guess yourself, this sport isn't for you. But if you hear that and think, 'I'll prove you wrong'— then maybe, just maybe, you ' ve got what it takes. And when will you make it?" Leo grins. "Remember to send me free merch." he chuckled.
Garrett applauded, "Damn, Leo. That was inspiring AND a business move at the same time."
Leo laughs hard, "Hey, I gotta think ahead."
Garrett then put down the flash card on the table "Alright, alright. I think that's a wrap. Leo, you've been an absolute blast. Thanks for sitting down with us, and good luck this weekend!"
Leo shakes Garrett's hand again, grinning. "Thanks, Garrett. And to all the other drivers—better keep up, 'cause I'm coming for that podium."
As the interview wrapped up, James patted Leo's shoulder and said with almost tears, "You nailed it, kid. Now go out there and shine.".
Leo smirked. He wasn't just going to shine—he was going to win. Because he wanted that date with Ava.
Taking a deep breath, he closed his eyes.
Tomorrow is everything.