Charles, a Formula One driver nearing the end of a season without yet another championship. Desperately hoping that next year's season will be the one, he knows that nothing can stand in his way.
Hayley, a singer with a troubled past, desperately ba...
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When Hayley stepped foot on the open stage, the first thing she noticed was how red everything was. Of course, she knew that performing at a Ferrari event wouldn't really showcase a spectrum of colours, but it almost seemed as if every guest in attendance wore some kind of red with their outfit. Of course, she was no different. She'd been grateful that her closest friend, Sophie, had convinced her that a little, red dress was a little too cliché for the event, but now felt almost ashamed of the red bottoms on her black heels as she walked towards the microphone.
The second thing that she noticed was the lack of mobile phones pointing in her direction. She knew when she'd been hired to do this event that it was high profile - her label had even warned her of such in a brief phone call once she'd landed in Milan, but she was also certain that in amongst the crowd there would be influencers and rising stars looking for a quick chance of going viral. She didn't want to boost her own ego any more than was necessary, but to look out to a sea of people and see nothing but the faces of a crowd eager to watch her perform was a rarity - she was used to seeing the flash of a camera, or the glare of a lens in the lights from the stage.
Hayley Webster was well versed in how it felt to look out to a field of phones now. She'd been raised in the spotlight - a child star who wasn't even in double digits when she'd made her big screen debut. Of course, the fame didn't quite reach these levels until she'd started to sing, and by the time she'd reached twenty she'd become one of the most streamed artists of all time.
This performance was nothing out of the ordinary for Hayley, who gave the crowd a small smile as the lights came up and her band began to play, but it was also something new entirely. She'd performed at function events like the one she was in attendance for in Milan, but they'd never been so far out of her comfort zone. She'd sung to open the BRIT awards, or to call in the New Year live on British television. She'd been invited over to the USA where she'd performed a duet at the Grammys and even made a short appearance at the Super Bowl Halftime Show with The Weeknd. Countless business events had featured Hayley as the star of the evening, as corporations flexed that they had enough money to hire in a performer as large as Hayley Webster herself, and the woman had found herself able to pretend. Now, she'd stopped acting for a key reason - she wasn't great at it, but for short periods of time, Hayley could blend into whichever crowd she'd found herself apart of. At the BRIT awards she found herself conversing with grime artists who she'd never encountered before, at her New Years performance she mingled with the Royal Family and sipped on tea from china cups. For the Grammys she'd pretended that she understood the subtle Americanisms which surrounded her as she spoke earnestly about how much she loved America (though she would always prefer the UK), and mingled with the Super Bowl stars as if they were old friends, and she understood American Football - although it stopped and started so frequently that she really got distracted and stopped paying attention every couple of minutes. This performance was different; a room full of employees, stakeholders and supporters of one of the biggest brands on the planet - Ferrari.
