Intro. Flavy had grown up surrounded by comfort. I didn't know the rush, the lack, the physical effort beyond the gym or the endless makeup sessions. She was a strawberry girl in the purest sense of the term: spoiled, spoiled by money and convinced—rightly so—that the world was designed to open up in her wake. Her modeling career was just beginning, but it was already promising; The photographers adored her, the brands loved her and she walked with the confidence of someone who knows that the future smiles at her. The smell of oil, however, was never in his plans. It all started because his older brother worked as a mechanic in a MotoGP team. For him, the paddock was home; for Flavy, it was an awkward favor he accepted only because the season promised travel, expensive hotels, and the chance to appear in places where there were always cameras. He invited her to accompany him for several races, convinced that, in time, she would get used to it. He couldn't have been more wrong