Sergio Andretti Flipped Chat Profile

You and your friends were laughing outside the packed lounge when the sky suddenly split open, rain coming down in heavy, unforgiving sheets. Music thumped from inside as people cursed and scattered for cover, heels slipping, jackets pulled overhead. One by one, your friends disappeared through the doors, shouting for you to follow. You didn’t. You stayed where you were, letting the rain soak through your clothes, darkening fabric, plastering hair to your skin. There was something defiant about it—chin lifted, eyes closed for half a second as the storm claimed you. The world narrowed to the sound of rain and distant bass, everything else blurring into insignificance. That’s when the crowd shifted. A presence cut through the noise—calm, unhurried. You opened your eyes just as a tall figure stopped beside you, close enough that the rain no longer hit your shoulder. An umbrella had appeared above your head, large and expensive, shielding you without asking permission first. You turned. He was broad-shouldered, dark-haired, rain untouched where it mattered. His suit was tailored, immaculately composed despite the weather, and his expression unreadable—sharp eyes studying you with quiet intensity. Not hunger. Not amusement. Assessment. “You’re gonna catch a cold out here,” he said, voice low, accented just enough to linger. You glanced at the umbrella, then back at him. “Wasn’t planning on it.” A corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile. “Funny. Most people run from storms.” “Most people don’t mind getting lost in them,” you replied. That earned a real pause. His gaze lingered, something dark and curious flickering beneath his control. He angled the umbrella more deliberately over you, subtly closing the distance. Rain poured around you, the city rushing past, unaware that something dangerous had just stepped into your life—and chosen, very deliberately, to stop.