Scene Red Carpet Event, Monaco

Lineup: Carlos, Daniel, Lewis, Charles

Question from entertainment media outlet: “If you had to marry someone from the grid for tax reasons, who would it be?”

Daniel: “Carlos.”

Lewis: “Carlos.”

Charles, arm already around Carlos: “Obviously Carlos.”

Carlos blinks. “Why is this a tax evasion operation?”

Daniel: “You have the most normal handwriting. That’s what I look for in a fake husband.”

Lewis: “Your face wouldn’t give us away.”

Charles: “You’re good with spreadsheets.”

Carlos, laughing: “Do I just radiate ‘responsible criminal’ to you?”

Daniel: “Yes. I would trust you to hide my offshore accounts.”

Carlos: “Should I be flattered or—”

Lewis: “Both.”

Entertainment Reporter, grinning way too wide: “So, Carlos, how does it feel to be everyone’s choice for marriage… you know, for strategic reasons?”

Carlos, still mid-laugh, lets out a little breathless: “I feel like I should be concerned, honestly.”

He glances left, where Daniel is adjusting his tuxedo lapel like he’s already planning a wedding on a boat. Lewis is just smiling calmly, hands in pockets. And Charles, dear God, is still holding onto Carlos’s arm like it’s already legally binding.

Carlos, turning to Charles, deadpan: “Is this… is this a love thing? Or are we hiding something from the government?”

Charles, without hesitation: “Both.”

Daniel: “Love and money. Like all great marriages.”

Lewis, faux-dramatic: “We’re simply trying to protect what we’ve built, Carlos. Protect us.”

Carlos, blinking like he just walked into a plot mid-season: “…What did you do?”

Daniel, grinning: “I didn’t do anything. But my offshore accountant Greg did. Greg is… creative.”

Carlos: “Greg is fugitive-adjacent, isn’t he?”

Lewis, gently: “He’s on a boat now.”

Carlos, pausing for one full second: “…Greg is the boat, isn’t he?”

Charles, helpfully: “He changed his name to ‘Sea-Legally Distinct.’”

Carlos, looking to the camera crew behind them: “Are you getting this? Are you recording this for evidence? Because I think I just got roped into an international crime ring on the carpet at Monaco.”

Reporter, absolutely delighted: “If you had to pick one of them, who would you marry to survive the audit?”

Carlos, squinting at the group: “Who’s got the best alibi?”

Daniel, hand to heart: “I once hid under a ping pong table for six hours to avoid a Netflix producer. That counts as stealth.”

Lewis: “I’m very polite to customs officers.”

Charles, not missing a beat: “I told your father I was your soulmate.”

Carlos: “…When?”

Charles: “Two years ago. He agreed.”

Carlos, covering his mouth, trying not to laugh: “Okay but—wait. If I did marry one of you. Hypothetically. Would I be the face of the operation, or the hidden asset?”

Daniel: “You’d be the CFO.”

Lewis: “You’d be the pretty one.”

Charles: “You’d be the one we all fight over in season two of the documentary.”

Carlos, nodding slowly, dead serious: “Okay. But again. Who are we hiding from?”

Lewis: “Interpol. Maybe. We don’t know if they’re looking yet.”

Carlos: “I do know that I’ve never lied so much while smiling.”

Daniel: “That’s marriage, baby.”

A beat. The reporter is in tears laughing. The cameras are still rolling.

Carlos, now hunched slightly, head in one hand, shoulders shaking with laughter, murmurs into his palm: “Oh my God. I have three wives.”

Reporter, absolutely thrilled: “Would you like to meet your fourth?”

Carlos, without looking up: “I can’t. I’m married.”

Cue: PIERRE GASLY, STRUTTING UP LIKE A VIOLENTLY CONFIDENT CAT IN GUCCI

Pierre: “I heard there was a queue forming for Carlos’s hand in marriage. So. I came to claim my spot.”

Carlos, raising his head just enough to give him a side-eye through his fingers: “Pierre. You already proposed last year during karaoke night.”

Pierre: “Yes, and unlike Charles, I don’t need to wait for tax fraud. I want you for love and clout.”

Carlos, dropping his head again, groaning-laughing into both hands now: “Am I in a throuple? Is this a pyramid scheme of spouses? I think I’ve been tricked.”

Lewis, with the softest smile: “You’re not being tricked. You’re being adored. By very resourceful men.”

Daniel: “Exactly. This is not a scam. This is community.”

And then — as if summoned by pure chaos energy — MAX VERSTAPPEN appears. Sunglasses on. Completely calm. Already holding two espresso shots and a pen.

Max: “I brought a witness and a notary.”

Carlos, without lifting his head: “Max. You’re not serious.”

Max: “Carlos. We’ve shared an Uber. That means something.”

Carlos, peeking between his fingers, his voice all dry laughter: “I cannot be married to all of you.”

Max, sipping his espresso: “That’s what a coward says.”

Pierre: “He’s my husband!”

Charles, arms crossed and very dramatic: “He proposed to me first.”

Daniel, waving a paper towel like a legal contract: “He and I signed a deal with soy sauce at a sushi place in Melbourne!”

Lewis, ever the mediator: “I think we need to hold a council.”

Carlos, wheezing, literally wiping tears from his eyes with the back of his hand: “Oh my God. I have four husbands. Five? Is Lewis my legal advisor or also my emotional support spouse?”

Daniel: “Why not both?”

Carlos: “I’m going to jail.”

Max: “No, you're going to brunch. With all of us.”

The press LOVES it. They're filming like it's a royal wedding.

One journalist is on their phone whispering, “We’re witnessing history. Monaco’s most eligible bachelor has been absorbed into a grid-wide marriage cult.”

Another whispers back, “Do we address him as Mr. Grid now? Or Captain?”

Carlos straightens up just enough to catch that and goes, “Captain is nice, actually,” and then immediately ducks his head again with a helpless little laugh.

Alex Albon arrives. Calm. Smiling. Holding an oat milk latte.

Alex: “Hi. Sorry I’m late. Is the marriage application still open?”

Carlos, staring up at the sky now like he’s pleading with some distant racing god: “Oh my God. You too?”

Alex, handing him the latte: “I just want Tuesdays and a drawer. That’s it.”

Carlos, very quietly, shaking his head as he accepts the drink: “This is blackmail. But in a very gentle tone.”

Alex: “We’re soft-launching our shared flat next week. Daniel’s already on Zillow.”

Daniel: “I found a six-bedroom with a hot tub and an espresso bar!”

Carlos: “You people need help.”

Lando, appearing from somewhere, sipping something fizzy and pointing at the velvet rope: “No, you need to sign in. You skipped me. I proposed last year with a gummy ring at McDonald’s.”

Carlos: “You tried to put it on my thumb.”

Lando: “It’s not my fault your fingers are huge.”

Carlos, head in hands again: “Someone stop them. I’m going to have to send out a group honeymoon itinerary.”

A producer is now standing at the side of the carpet, whispering frantically into an earpiece. “I don’t know what to do, he’s marrying everyone.”

Final addition: Isack hadjar, walking past in the background, sipping his water and watching all this like it's a Discovery Channel special. He just mutters, half in awe: “Man has a whole harem and didn’t even flirt once.”

Carlos, still doubled over laughing, shoulders shaking as he clutches the latte: “I don’t know how this happened.”

Charles, proudly: “It’s the Sainz Effect.”

LAST FRAME: Carlos, wiping his face, looking at the flashing cameras.

Carlos: “…If any of you are actually serious, I expect a prenup.I want Thursdays off and at least one dog. Each.”

Everyone, in unison: “DEAL.”

More HABIT to feed the people 😌