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Summary
Bilbo lived and breathed racing. Had for a while too. At the ripe age of six, going go-karting with his father. He remembered the adrenaline then too. And here he was, racing a qualifier at the Formula-fucking-One. He was talented, critics calling him a rising star, a breath of fresh air. He raced now with big names like Lewis Hamilton, Alonso, and Verstappen. And of course, how could he forget Erebor’s own Thorin Oakenshield. This was definitely not Formula Two anymore.
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THIS IS SO GOOD I'M SCREAMING
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Fasr
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