#5411

And it was all good and well until, to his embarrassment, Nicolo realized he’d gotten lost. It shouldn’t be possible—it’s just rows of vans—but somehow, he managed, which feels silly. Now he’s in a support paddock he can’t make sense of. That’s when another boy finds him—clearly older, with messy black hair, a pretty face, and decked in rookie cup gear. Okay, he should have seen this one coming.

Guy looks a bit wary of Nicolo, which is not surprising, as he probably looks like a spooked animal, but hey. That's a bit insulting! It's he who should be wary of random people around him.

"Are you.. okay?" The nameless guy clearly has a bit of a struggle with English, but at least he is relatable.

"I lost, I... think" Nicolo tries for his best awkward smile to convey his embarrassment.

"Your parents here?" The guy clearly understands that they're both gonna have a bit of trouble communicating

"No, no, alone" he tries to shrug, awkwardness getting a bit too much.

"What's your name?" What does he have to lose even

"Toprak. You?" Toprak’s eyes look at him curiously

"Nicolo. Do you ride?" It can get worse at this point, so Nicolo is straight up pointing at the rookie cup logo on Toprak’s shirt

"Yeah.. do you ride?" Toprak is probably sick of the awkward air around them, too, trying to find a topic they might have in common at last

"Yes!" Okay, he probably shouldn’t have sounded that energetic. This Toprak probably thinks that he's a loser now.

But to his surprise, instead of the judging glare that he expected, eyes in front of him lit up with excitement as Toprak grabbed his hand and led him even further into the maze of metal that surrounds them with no expectation whatsoever.

Nicolo must admit that this whole situation scared him as much as it did intrigue him.  Being led through the paddock rather quickly by a guy he met five minutes ago. But Toprak’s hand was warm in his, and Nicolo decided to let himself go. He can be cautious next time.

They stop when they get to a spacious parking lot not taken up by various cars and vans. Both out of breath, still hand in hand and looking around. There was a bike, nothing powerful, probably standing there waiting for someone to try and have fun with it.

"Do you want to?" Toprak asks, gesturing towards the bike, and who is Nicolo to say no. With a very enthusiastic shake of his head, he goes towards the bike, Toprak somehow already there, showing how to turn it on.

When Nicolo gets on it, all he can think to do is a few easy eights and a small wheelie, far from best, but it should count for something, right?

Evidently not really, because when he gets off the bike, Toprak is already next to him, excitedly saying something and hopping on the bike himself. Nicolo hopes that it's some form of praise, hopefully.

any and all thoughts escape him when Toprak rews the engine and starts his own little show. It's amazing what he can do with this little bike, if not a bit insane. Nicolo's wheelie looks pathetic in comparison, but he can't even think about that too much, too fascinated with a genuine talent show going on in front of him. When Toprak finally stops, almost like coming back to earth itself, Nicolo is next to him in just a few seconds.

"This amazing! Can you teach me?" Somehow, he manages to scramble for whatever bit of English he knows in that moment, desperately wishing that they could talk freely, but at least using what he can.

"Of course!" Somehow, Toprak is matching his excitement, which is comforting, in a way that doesn't make Nicolo feel like an absolute loser.

They spent the next hour or so right there, in that parking lot, with Toprak’s warm hand on his back while he tried to explain how to make a longer wheelie and Nicolo fighting the ridiculously bright blush of his own face. It's amazing and incredibly fun, even if they can't communicate that well, motorcycling somehow becomes their shared language for a fraction of time.

Neither of them notices as time slips by, and suddenly Nicolo's phone is ringing, his father calling him up because it's time to get picked up. Toprak obviously doesn't understand any of the conversation, but he probably gathers from Nicolo's regretful face that it's his time to go. All he does is nod and wordlessly offer to walk him out.

The only time Nicolo was more thankful to someone was probably when his dad gifted him his first minibike, and that should tell you something about just how much he wanted to thank Toprak for today.

When they got close enough that he could see security from their standpoint but still being in a bit of a shielded place, Toprak was finishing saying his goodbyes when something overtook Nicolo, and out of nowhere, he surged to give the other boy a brief hug. Only for Toprak to lock him in place for what felt like forever. Now Nicolo truly was red to his roots with how the warmth of the embrace made him feel. He didn't want to, but it was time to go.

"Ciao! Thank you for everything!"  He tried to convey all of the emotions that this strange day brought to him with his voice. Looking at Toprak’s eyes, he probably succeeded. But no matter how nice it was, embarrassment and giddiness didn't let him stay in place, and he needed to move. And now the only way to move was out, so with that last goodbye, he went away.

Nicolo never asked where Toprak was from or what his surname was. Toprak didn't ask him any of those things either. Maybe it was for the best that this one occasion, a weird and amazing day of his life, will stay a bit of a mystery forever; maybe it has more charm like that.

This story kept replaying in Nicolo's head years later, as he was stepping into the WSBK paddock for the first time, also intimidatingly big and unfamiliar. Oh, how he wishes he had someone to guide him through it as there was that day. But no, this time Nicolo is here to race, and he needs to keep his head high by himself to prove his worth.

once i was abroad and went with my partner in a little speakeasy, tucked in a grand hotel foyer. The place was SMALL small and we sat down in a dim lit table, trying to hear ourselves as a group beside us ordered expresso martini after expresso martini. Anyways. when the waiter came, i asked him if he had any suggestions on the menu. he promptly replied: our carpaccio wagyu is very famous. carpaccio wagyu it is then.

GOD. When i say that dish were life changing.

think of FAT RAW BUTTERY MEAT dissolving in your mouth. Really dissolving like, coming to pieces w just SALIVA. No spice to season it, just a pinch of salt and a small dash of olive oil.

The idea of tender flesh giving in… with little to no resistance…. I mean, bubi’s resolves also dissolved the moment toprak entered his motorhome. He’s just stubborn to admit it.

Also: finding a gem in a boisterous, noisy place, when u weren’t excpecting it - like them both on the paddock. Also: tasting someting once and ending up being obsessed 4 life.