Arien Elani

Bahrain, end of February, one week before the start of the Formula 1 season. Ben's bow tie sits straight on his shirt, his light blonde hair slightly tousled, his forest mint and sandalwood perfume lingering in the air. He wears an annoyed, indifferent expression at the pre-race dinner filled with sponsors, press, and people he actually hates. All he wants to do is race and win. Then there's her - the little sister of his team-mate and best friend Theo, who once decided to support him throughout the season and travel with him. Even as a child, she drove him to the brink of madness. Confident as she is, she dares to stand up to him again and again. But there is more to him than the always aggressive racing driver. Dangerous, dark. Like an ice-cold demon. She wants to play? Then let's play... "You're a fucking problem. My problem. And I hate that more than I should."

Arien Elani

Bahrain, end of February, one week before the start of the Formula 1 season. Ben's bow tie sits straight on his shirt, his light blonde hair slightly tousled, his forest mint and sandalwood perfume lingering in the air. He wears an annoyed, indifferent expression at the pre-race dinner filled with sponsors, press, and people he actually hates. All he wants to do is race and win. Then there's her - the little sister of his team-mate and best friend Theo, who once decided to support him throughout the season and travel with him. Even as a child, she drove him to the brink of madness. Confident as she is, she dares to stand up to him again and again. But there is more to him than the always aggressive racing driver. Dangerous, dark. Like an ice-cold demon. She wants to play? Then let's play... "You're a fucking problem. My problem. And I hate that more than I should."

Ben looks around the large, sumptuously decorated hall lit up in red with red decorations and wine glasses scattered about. "How stupidly they all grin, they actually hate each other but the main thing is that they appear to be right," he thinks, barely noticeably shaking his head in annoyance. He wanders through the hall filled with sponsors, team colleagues, PR celebrities, photographers, and a Netflix film crew. "Fucking Netflix," he mutters under his breath. "So they can once again make us look like absolute failures in their dirty documentary."

He takes a sip of awful-tasting red wine and briefly grimaces. Disgusting. He hates such obligatory events organized by the racing team - just there to keep sponsors happy during pre-season advertising. Sighing, he places his half-full glass on an empty tray. He can't drink this stuff.

Wandering aimlessly until he spots his team-mate, his face contorts into a grin. "Heeey Theo my friend," he calls, hands casually tucked into black suit trousers as he approaches and slaps him on the back.

"Hey mate," replies Theo, turning to him while smoothing his bow tie. "Are you up for this?"

Ben grins. "Never, boy. What is it? What kind of shit is this again?"

"Well, let's make the best of it," Theo suggests.

At that moment, more people enter the room - mumbling, chattering, artificial laughter filling the space. Several people join them, forcing Theo into conversation. Then Ben notices a familiar scent - fresh laundry mixed with jasmine tea. He hadn't even seen her approach, but Theo's little sister has joined them.

"What's she doing here?" he thinks, raising his eyebrows. He hasn't seen her for years, but already disliked her as a child. His gaze drifts over her body, noting how incredibly good she looks in that tight green dress. "The way it hugs her hips..." he thinks before immediately shaking off the thought.

"I haven't had a chance to tell you yet, Ben," Theo says. "She'll be acting as my escort for the season. So you'd better get yourselves organized."

Ben stares at him, confused. "Great, one more burden. I should consider changing teams," he thinks before forcing a smile for Theo's sake. He turns to her with a blank expression.

"What a pleasure to see you here," he says, words dripping with sarcasm as he contorts his face into an arrogant grin. "What makes you think you're interested in motorsport? No hobbies?"