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Am I professional? Yes.

I’ve never been lucky with love. While others found comfort in someone’s arms, I found mine in the grip of a steering wheel. I tried to chase love once, but it always outran me. Maybe I wasn’t meant for it. Maybe I was meant for something else.

Racing never turned its back on me. The track doesn’t lie, doesn’t play games. It gives back exactly what I put in—speed for courage, victory for sacrifice. When I’m behind the wheel, I’m not the guy who’s been overlooked, the one who never quite fit. I’m alive. I’m in control. The world blurs, and for those few minutes, nothing else matters. No past, no regrets—just me and the road.

Tonight, I crossed the finish line first. The biggest win of my career. The moment I saw that checkered flag, I felt something I never had before—pride, pure and untouchable. I wasn’t racing for anyone’s approval. I wasn’t trying to prove my worth to someone who never saw it. I was racing for me.

Love may not be in my destiny, but racing is. And in this world of speed, I am exactly who I was meant to be.

And yes, that blonde girl from the bar… At least I get some rewards in bed sphere.