The moment Taryn and I took our first step toward the red carpet, something shifted in the air. It wasn't just the usual buzz of the event, it was a full-on shift in energy. People turned their heads, whispers and glances ricocheting around us as we walked hand in hand. The sound of cameras clicking increased, a constant barrage of flashes illuminating the night. My hand naturally entwined with Taryn's, and I felt an undeniable connection, a bond that was growing stronger by the second.
Everyone noticed us. Not just the photographers, but couples nearby, celebrities in their extravagant outfits, and even the staff. It was like the world had stopped for a moment to take us in. We stood out, Taryn in her sparkling, almost magical gown, and me, dressed to the nines in my princely white suit. The chemistry between us was undeniable, and it radiated in every step we took.
"Well, someone's making an entrance." The system's voice popped into my head, amused. "This is definitely going to make waves tonight."
I didn't need to hear it from the system to know that we were turning heads. Everyone was staring at us. And as we walked toward the top of the stairs, even the other couples seemed to take a moment to look back at us, eyes wide in admiration. It felt surreal, like a moment out of a movie, but I couldn't help but enjoy the attention, especially when I saw Taryn smile so effortlessly.
When we reached the top of the stairs, I noticed Luca Moretti and his date, casually lounging by the railing. As I approached, Luca grinned and called out, a teasing glint in his eyes.
"Show off, huh?" he said, his voice light.
I chuckled, my gaze flickering between him and his date. "You know it. You can't make an entrance without a little flair."
Luca raised an eyebrow, but then his smile softened. "I saved you a seat with me and my girl. Come on, you two. Don't stand there all night." He gestured to the chairs nearby where they were seated, and I could tell he was trying to make us feel welcome despite the playful jab.
We walked over, Taryn still holding my hand, and as we sat down, I couldn't help but notice how everyone around us was suddenly drawn to the chemistry between the two of us. Taryn was like a light in the room, and I felt like I was the lucky guy in the spotlight next to her.
Before the event really kicked off, there was a presentation, outlining the standard the FIA expected from all drivers this season. The usual corporate jargon. It was long-winded, but I had to admit, it was important to hear. Everyone listened attentively, the air buzzing with muted conversation and polite clinking of glasses as the staff served dinner. I had a few bites, but my mind kept drifting to Taryn beside me, her presence was magnetic.
Once the presentation ended, things became a bit more relaxed. The formalities had been covered, and now the gala was shifting into mingling mode. Drivers, alumni, sponsors, all kinds of people were now free to network, chat, and, for some, show off. I wasn't exactly thrilled by all the politics and forced conversations, but I knew the importance of being seen and heard in these circles.
The conversation started with sponsors and other drivers. One thing was for sure: I was getting a lot of attention. And I'm not talking about the usual "hey, good job on the track" stuff. No, this time, it was about the contract with Lamborghini. Everyone seemed to be aware of it, and I found myself having to explain the deal several times. It was flattering, but I didn't enjoy the disingenuous smiles and the undercurrent of jealousy that came with it.
Taryn and I found ourselves caught in a whirlwind of conversation. People complimented us incessantly about our outfits. Her dress was the talk of the evening, and my suit wasn't far behind. It was hard not to get swept up in the flattery, but there was something oddly satisfying about sharing those moments with her. She seemed to be enjoying herself, even though it was clear that she wasn't entirely used to the spotlight.
"This is a lot of attention, huh?" I said to Taryn during a brief lull, pulling her away from a group of people chatting us up.
She laughed lightly, her face flushed with the attention. "It's kind of overwhelming, but I'm getting used to it. Honestly, it's just nice being here with you."
Her words meant more than I expected. Despite the glitz and glamour surrounding us, I realized that, for her, the event didn't matter. She cared about the moments we shared away from the crowd, those quiet exchanges that weren't about how we looked or who we were with, but about us.
As the night wore on, I found myself pulled into more and more conversations. Some were boring. Some were with arrogant drivers who clearly had a point to prove. Others were more genuine, and I made a mental note to stay connected with those people. I didn't want to just be the guy with the Lamborghini deal. I wanted to be remembered for my talent and character, too. But the spotlight tonight, it seemed, was on the "it" couple—Taryn and me.
The evening wore on, and soon it was nearing 11 PM. Taryn was starting to look a little tired, and I was more than ready to leave the endless stream of forced pleasantries behind. We'd had enough for one night.
I leaned over to Taryn. "You want to get out of here? I'm starting to feel like I'm suffocating in this tux."
She grinned, clearly relieved. "Let's go."
We stood up, and as I walked her toward the exit, the sea of people parted like the Red Sea. We were making our exit just as grand as our entrance, and I found myself smiling as the photographers snapped their final shots of the night. I could see some people already beginning to disperse, their chatter dying down. It had been a good evening, but now it was time for something more personal.
We got to the car, and I opened the door for her once more, this time without the glitz and glamour of the event surrounding us. Just the two of us. She slid into the passenger seat, her smile warm as she looked at me.
"So, where are we headed?" she asked, her voice low and teasing.
"I think you know the way," I said with a wink.
I slid into the driver's seat, the engine of the Lamborghini revving to life as we drove toward her place. The streets were quiet at this hour, and the soft hum of the car was soothing. We talked all the way there, about the night, about the people we'd met, and about the future. It felt effortless, like we'd known each other for years.
When we arrived at her apartment, I parked the car, my mind elsewhere as I turned to face her. She was still glowing, and as I got out and walked around to open her door, my heart started to race a little faster. This night had been perfect, except for one thing.
Taryn stood in front of me as we reached her door, and she smiled softly.
"Goodnight, Henry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.
But as she stepped toward her door, I couldn't let her go just yet. I reached out and gently pulled her back toward me, my hand resting on her arm. Her eyes widened in surprise, but I didn't hesitate.
I leaned down, my lips meeting hers in a kiss that felt like it was meant to happen all along. She didn't pull away, and when we finally broke apart, I took a deep breath.
"I'd like you to be my girlfriend, Taryn," I said, my voice soft but earnest.
She blinked, clearly taken aback by my words. "Why did it take you so long?"
A grin tugged at the corners of my mouth. "I didn't want to rush it. I wanted to be sure."
Taryn's smile deepened, and before she could say anything else, she kissed me again. "I'm sure, too," she whispered.
I watched as she walked back into her apartment, my heart light as a feather. I turned and walked back to my car, my head in the clouds. It had been a perfect night.
And it was just the beginning.