lover of mine | Franco Colapinto

The sun was blazing overhead as Madelaine walked through the Bahrain paddock early the next morning, her mind still buzzing with the messages she had exchanged with Franco the night before. She had barely slept, too lost in her thoughts, and the excitement from their conversation had kept her wide awake.

Today would be her last day in Bahrain. She had to fly back to Bologna in the evening, and although she was excited to get back to university and her routine, she couldn't shake the feeling that there was something she wasn't ready to leave behind. Franco, perhaps? Their conversations had taken a turn she wasn't expecting, and she still felt a bit uncertain about it all, but at the same time, there was something undeniably magnetic about him.

As the morning wore on, she had agreed to meet him away from the paddock, in a more secluded area by the track. Franco had suggested it, wanting to chat without the chaos of the grandstands and teams rushing around. She wasn't sure what to expect, but she found herself intrigued.

Madelaine reached the spot, near a quiet corner of the track where the sound of the engines could still be heard faintly in the distance. She was a little early, but she didn't mind; she liked having a moment to herself before the inevitable conversation that would follow. Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she pulled it out to see a message from Franco.

Franco
I'm just around the corner. I'll be there in a sec. Don't run away, okay?"

She smiled at the message, tucking her phone back into her pocket. A few moments later, she saw him walking toward her, a relaxed smile on his face. His brown curls were tousled from the wind, and he wore a casual outfit—jeans and a T-shirt—something he wouldn't normally wear in the paddock. He looked... easygoing, like he didn't have a care in the world.

"Hey," Franco greeted, his voice warm as he came to a stop in front of her. "I wasn't sure you'd show up."

Madelaine smiled, trying to hide the butterflies in her stomach. "I'm here, aren't I?" she replied with a grin. "It's my last day in Bahrain, so I thought I'd take a little detour before I leave."

Franco chuckled, his eyes lighting up. "A detour, huh? I'm glad I could be part of that."

There was a moment of silence between them, and for the first time, Madelaine felt the weight of the conversation that was about to unfold. She wasn't sure how to bring it up, but she wanted to know more about him—about his life, how he ended up here, in this crazy world of motorsport.

"So," she began, breaking the silence, "I've been wondering... where do you actually live? I mean, you're from Argentina, but you don't really sound like you're still living there, right?"

Franco's smile softened, and for a moment, he looked a little distant, almost as if the question had caught him off guard. He shrugged casually, the familiar warmth returning to his eyes. "I live in Italy, actually. Been there since I was 14."

Madelaine blinked, surprised. "Italy? Wait... so you don't even live in Argentina anymore?"

He shook his head, looking off into the distance for a moment as if recalling the past. "No. I moved there when I was 14 to pursue my karting career. Europe's where all the opportunities are. South America is great, but it doesn't have the same motorsport infrastructure or support. At least, not the way Europe does."

Madelaine was stunned. "Wow," she said quietly, her mind racing. "I never knew that. So you've been in Italy for years now?"

"Yeah, exactly," Franco said, his tone more reflective now. "It was a big move at that age, you know? I had to leave my family behind, my friends. But I had to take the chance if I wanted to keep going with racing. I mean, you can't just stay in Argentina and expect to make it in motorsport. Everyone's in Europe. I spent so many years training, and I'm still chasing that dream. But Italy's home for me now. It feels like the right place to be."

Madelaine processed this information, her thoughts swirling. It was hard to picture the 19-year-old Franco, a rookie in F3, as a 14-year-old kid, suddenly uprooted from everything familiar and placed in a foreign country to chase his dreams. It made her respect him more, seeing how much he'd sacrificed to get where he was.

"That's really impressive," she said, her voice softer now. "I mean, I can't even imagine what that must have been like, moving so young."

Franco smiled, though it was tinged with something a little more serious. "It wasn't easy. It's not all sunshine and rainbows. There were moments when I really missed home. But racing... it's the only thing I've ever wanted to do. And now, Italy feels like home. I have my life there, my team, everything I've worked for. It's just... different from what people expect."

Madelaine smiled, feeling a connection growing between them that hadn't been there before. "I get it. I mean, I've been living in Bologna for university now, but I'm originally from Monaco. And it feels like two different worlds. I never thought I'd end up here."

Franco raised an eyebrow, clearly interested. "Bologna, huh? That's not too far from Milan. Not that far from me," he said with a playful grin.

Madelaine froze. "Wait, you're near Milan?"

Franco nodded. "Yeah. It's about an hour outside of the city. I live in a small town near Como. You know, the lake?"

Her heart skipped. "I've been to Lake Como before. It's beautiful there."

"Small world, huh?" Franco chuckled. "Who knows, maybe we're closer than we think."

Madelaine couldn't help but laugh, feeling a little lighter now. There was something about knowing they shared that geographical proximity that made everything feel a little more real. She didn't expect it, but it was... comforting.

"Yeah, small world," she repeated. And for the first time in a while, Madelaine didn't feel quite so far away from everything.

🩶🩶🩶🩶🩶