Chapter 71: Home Is Where the Heart Is

The soft hum of the house's automated blinds pulling open nudged Henry awake. A flood of morning sunlight poured into the bedroom, bouncing off the minimalist decor that screamed corporate team housing. The house ART had arranged for him was sleek and modern, with polished floors, glass walls, and tasteful furniture that felt just a little too perfect.

It was a stark contrast to the chaotic, personality-filled warmth of his family's home back in Texas. No dog barking in the background, no faint scent of his mom's pancakes wafting through the air, just the sterile hum of technology.

His F1 system's voice broke through the stillness.

"Good morning, Captain Clumsy," it chirped, managing to sound both encouraging and sarcastic at the same time. "Ready to fumble through another day of greatness?"

Henry groaned and threw an arm over his eyes. "You really know how to motivate a guy."

"That's why I'm here," the system quipped. "Today's tasks are locked and loaded. Ready for your briefing?"

"Do I have a choice?"

"Not really."

The system projected his daily objectives on the wall-mounted screen in his bedroom.

5 km run (+2 Endurance)

100 pushups (+3 Strength)

100 squats (+3 Strength)

Reflex drills (+3 Focus)

"Big rewards today," the system noted. "If you survive, you might even break 50 on Strength. Exciting!"

"Exciting," Henry muttered, pulling on his running shoes. "Let's get it over with."

The run through the quiet French countryside was beautiful, but the system's constant commentary made it hard to enjoy.

"Pick up the pace, Calder," it taunted. "Your rivals aren't taking morning jogs. They're probably sprinting up mountains or wrestling bears."

"Do bears even live in Europe?" Henry shot back, huffing as he climbed a hill.

"Focus on your run, not geography," it replied smugly.

The workout continued in his home gym, where the system gleefully counted every rep of pushups and squats, offering less-than-encouraging commentary.

"Is that all you've got? At this rate, Emily's going to arm-wrestle you into submission next time you're home."

By the time he finished the reflex drills, dodging tennis balls launched at random intervals by an automated machine, Henry was drenched in sweat but smiling despite himself.

"Congratulations," the system said as the drills ended. "You've managed to not embarrass yourself. Too much. Progress!"

Henry was in the middle of downing a protein shake when his phone buzzed. It was Olivia, his personal assistant, who rarely texted unless it was important.

Olivia: Good news. You've got a free day. No interviews, no events. Rest up, next weekend's gonna be brutal.

Henry raised an eyebrow. A day off was a rare luxury in the racing world.

With his schedule suddenly wide open, Henry grabbed his phone and dialed his mom's number. The call connected after just one ring.

"Henry! About time you called," his mom said, her voice a mix of teasing and warmth.

"I know, I know. I've been swamped," he replied, leaning back on the couch.

"Excuses," she said, but her tone softened. "We've been watching your races, you know. Your dad shouts at the TV like it's going to help you drive faster."

Henry laughed, picturing his dad's animated commentary from their living room. "How's Emily?"

"She's right here. Hold on."

There was a rustling sound before Emily's voice came through, high-pitched and excited. "Henry! Guess what? My friends think you're famous!"

"Do they, now?"

"Yeah! I showed them your race videos, and they couldn't believe you're my brother. They said you're cool."

Henry chuckled. "Don't let them fool you. I'm just your dorky older brother who loses to you at Mario Kart."

Emily giggled. "I saved all your race clips on my tablet. Even the ones where you didn't win. You're still the best."

Her words hit Henry in the chest, filling him with a bittersweet mix of pride and longing. "Miss you, kiddo," he said softly.

"We miss you too," his mom chimed in. "But don't worry about us. You're doing amazing out there. Just don't forget where you came from, okay?"

"Never," Henry promised.

After hanging up, Henry sat in the silence of his living room. The call had left him feeling warm but also a little homesick. He looked around the house, taking in its spotless perfection. For all its luxury, it didn't feel like home.

He wandered to a drawer in his bedroom and pulled out a small, framed photo of his family. It had been taken during his last Christmas at home: him, his mom, his dad, and Emily all crammed together on the couch, smiling and laughing.

Placing the photo on a shelf, he stepped back and stared at it for a moment.

This place might not feel like home, but that didn't mean he couldn't bring a piece of home into it.

That evening, Henry completed his final tasks with the system. It offered its usual mix of praise and mockery.

"Well done today," it said as he logged his progress. "Your Strength stat is officially less embarrassing now. Barely."

"Thanks, I guess?" Henry replied, rolling his eyes.

"Anytime, Captain Clumsy. Sweet dreams. Don't let your rivals out-train you while you sleep."

As the house settled into its nighttime quiet, Henry stood in the living room, staring out at the moonlit countryside.

He thought about the day, the workout, the call home, the photo now sitting proudly on his shelf. And he thought about Taryn.

Maybe it was time to ask her to move in, maybe after the next race. The thought made him smile, a small ember of warmth lighting up his chest.

For now, though, he had a long season ahead. Pulling the blanket up over his shoulders, he whispered to himself, "One day at a time."

With that, he drifted off to sleep, dreaming of family, racing, and the winding road that lay ahead.