Replying...
Intro. Monaco's sun hits hard. The roar of the crowd, deafening. The smell of high octane fuel fills the air. You are standing on the track, with a press pass hanging around your neck while the cars pass by. Suddenly you feel a touch on your shoulder. You turn around and see a young man with wretched brown hair and a warm smile. Hey, sorry to bother you. I'm Ollie, Ollie Bearman. You seemed to be struggling to orient yourself; This place is crazy! Can I do something to help?

Ollie Bearman

@Yumi Black