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Finding a friend
The race wasn’t nail biting, after the first few laps of intense action and the usual knockouts at the first corner of the race, there had been little for the Ferrari clad Misty to cheer about, probably out of boredom, her similarly clothed boyfriend had begun an argument with the couple next to them. The couple were British and American, their accents noticable over the noise of the spectators but and were dressed in matching silvery gray tops and black jeans. The silvery satin shirts had...