The morning of the Gala arrived with a sense of anticipation hanging in the air. The season was fast approaching, but tonight, the focus would be entirely on the event that brought together drivers, alumni, sponsors, and celebrities from the world of motorsport. Camille had granted all the drivers the day off, a rare treat before the start of the season, to ensure that everyone was well-rested and ready to make an impression at the gala.
As always, the day began with my routine. I was jolted awake by the system's voice, a gentle but persistent reminder that there was no room for slack, not even on a day off.
"Good morning, Rookie. Your daily exercise tasks are ready."
I groggily reached for my phone, the screen illuminating in the dark room as the tasks flashed in my mind.
• 20 push-ups (+2 Strength).
• 5-minute sprint drill (+3 Endurance).
• 5-minute reaction time drills (+2 Reflexes).
It was just another day of keeping my body sharp, even though I knew that tonight would be about making an impression in a different way. I completed the exercises with my usual discipline, despite my mind being focused on the evening's events.
Afterward, Marcus was waiting for me at the gym.
"You ready for tonight?" he asked as I walked into the gym.
"Ready as I'll ever be," I said with a smile. "It's a different kind of test tonight."
Marcus grinned. "Not the kind I'm used to," he teased, adjusting the weights on the bench press. "But make sure you don't overdo it. You want to look sharp, not like you've been living in the gym."
We ran through the usual routine: strength training, reflex drills, and endurance exercises. My muscles were becoming more defined, and my reflexes felt quicker with each passing day. Marcus was pushing me harder now, knowing that every detail mattered as the season and the gala approached.
Once the session was done, I took a quick shower and then met Olivia for our debriefing.
"We're all set for tonight," she said, sitting at her desk, looking over a list of last-minute tasks. "Camille gave everyone the day off to rest, so you can focus on the gala. Just make sure you don't do anything to jeopardize your reputation."
"Understood," I said, running my fingers through my damp hair. "I've got it handled."
"Good. Just remember, no drinking beer, vodka, or liquor," Olivia said, handing me a small note. "But wine is allowed. Don't go overboard. This isn't a party; it's a professional event."
I chuckled. "Got it. I'll stick to wine. No tequila shots tonight, I promise."
Once we wrapped up the debriefing, I took a moment to get my mind in the right place. Tonight was important. I wasn't just going to the gala as a driver; I was going as ART's second main driver, someone with real potential. I needed to be at my best, not only in performance but in how I presented myself.
I showered again, taking my time to ensure I was both physically and mentally prepared.
When I stepped out of the shower, the reality of the night ahead hit me. I had to be on top of my game, representing both ART and Lamborghini. I glanced at the sleek white suit I had laid out, its sharp lines and princely design reminding me that tonight was about making an impression that would last. It was a far cry from the jumpsuit and helmet I was used to wearing. Tonight, I would be someone else, Henry Calder, the charismatic, confident driver who was about to leave his mark on the motorsport world.
I slid into the suit, adjusting the white gloves that accompanied it. The fit was perfect, the suit tailored to my frame in all the right ways. My reflection in the mirror looked almost otherworldly, dressed like a prince, prepared to step into a world that felt almost surreal.
After one final check, I headed out, the Lamborghini Revuelto waiting outside. The car gleamed under the afternoon sun, a symbol of my recent success. As I slid into the driver's seat, the engine roared to life, and the thrill of driving it was palpable.
The drive to Taryn's apartment was smooth, my focus split between the road and my excitement about seeing her again. I had invited her to the gala as my plus one, and I was eager to see what she would wear.
I arrived at her apartment building, parking the Revuelto in the driveway. I knocked on her door, anticipation swirling in my stomach. I had no idea what to expect.
When Taryn opened the door, I was taken aback.
She was dressed like something out of a fairytale, an ethereal vision in a flowing dress that shimmered with every movement. The dress was pale pink, adorned with delicate sequins that sparkled under the light, and it hugged her figure perfectly before fanning out into a skirt that seemed to float around her. She wore a pair of sparkling high heels that added a few inches to her height, and her strawberry blonde hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. White gloves, matching the ones I was wearing, completed the ensemble.
"You look… wow," I said, my voice catching. "Like a princess."
Taryn smiled, a shy blush creeping up her neck. "I was going for something classic. Is it too much?"
"Too much? Not even close," I replied with a grin. "You look stunning."
She laughed softly, her eyes sparkling with amusement. "Thanks. You look pretty good yourself, Prince Charming."
I offered her my arm, and she took it, allowing me to escort her to the car.
As we approached the Revuelto, I could see the admiration in her eyes. "This is your car?" she asked.
"Yeah," I said, opening the passenger door for her. "You get the full experience tonight."
After she slid into the passenger seat, I closed the door and made my way to the driver's side. The engine purred to life once more as we drove off toward the venue. The city lights blurred by as I focused on the road, but I couldn't help stealing glances at Taryn. There was something magical about tonight, and she was a part of that.
We talked as we drove, the conversation flowing easily. Taryn told me more about her love for F1, her fascination with the design of the cars, and her aspirations for the future. I shared some of my excitement about the upcoming season and how much it meant to me that Lamborghini had signed me.
"Must be nice," she said, a touch of envy in her voice. "Lamborghini, huh? That's huge."
I shrugged, grinning. "They see something in me. I'm just trying to make sure I don't disappoint them."
Before long, we arrived at the venue. The lights from the gala illuminated the massive event space, and the excitement was palpable. I parked the Revuelto, ensuring the car was positioned perfectly for anyone who might be looking.
I opened the door for Taryn, and as she stepped out, I offered her my hand. She took it with a smile, and together, we walked toward the red carpet. The crowd's murmurs grew louder, the flashes of cameras growing more frequent.
We reached the start of the red carpet, where several photographers were snapping shots of the drivers as they arrived. I turned to Taryn, squeezing her hand.
"Showtime," I said, my voice calm but filled with excitement.
With that, we stepped onto the carpet, ready to face the night ahead.