January 21st, 2019 – Audi Zentrum Essen
Lucas hadn't planned anything when he pulled into the dealership.
He just wanted to look, maybe find something that felt right.
The showroom was spotless, bright, a little too perfect.
Then he saw it.
At the back, half hidden behind a Q8 display, stood a RS7 Sportback.
Matte grey, wide stance, the kind of shape that looked fast even standing still.
He stopped walking. For a moment the rest of the cars didn't exist.
A salesman noticed.
"Ah, that one just came in. RS7 Performance, four-liter twin-turbo V8, six-hundred-and-five horsepower. New demo car."
Lucas nodded slightly, walking around it.
No chrome, no glitter. Just presence.
"Can I sit inside?"
"Of course."
He opened the door and slipped into the driver's seat.
The smell hit first—new leather and cold metal.
Black Alcantara, red stitching, brushed aluminum running clean across the dash.
It felt like a machine built by people who understood what silence should sound like.
He pressed the start button.
The engine woke with a low, calm growl, deep enough to vibrate through the floor but never loud.
The salesman smiled. "Would you like to take it for a short drive?"
Lucas looked up, eyes steady. "Yeah. Let's go."
The doors of the hall slid open.
He eased the RS7 forward, the sound echoing softly between the glass walls.
Outside, the winter air felt sharp against the warm interior.
He didn't know yet if this was the one,
but for the first time in a long while,
he wanted to find out.
January 21st, 2019 – Test Route, Essen
The road out of the city was quiet.
Cold air hung low over the asphalt, the sun barely strong enough to break through the haze.
Lucas kept one hand on the wheel, the other resting near the drive mode selector.
The RS7 moved like it had weight and purpose.
Every gear change was clean, smooth — confident, not trying to impress.
The cabin was silent enough that he could hear the faint tick of the V8 at idle when they stopped at lights.
He hadn't expected to enjoy it this much.
Not the power. The feeling. The calm precision of a car that didn't need to prove anything.
When the next stretch opened, he switched to Dynamic mode.
The suspension dropped slightly, the exhaust valves opened with a soft metallic click.
He smiled to himself and lowered the driver's window.
The tunnel ahead shimmered with light reflections from passing cars.
He eased into the throttle at first, just enough to hear the note change — a deep, rolling growl that filled the cabin and echoed against the concrete walls.
Then, just before the exit, he pressed harder.
The RS7 roared.
Not a scream, not a shout. Just raw, mechanical force. The kind of sound that hit you in the chest.
He couldn't help it — he laughed, short and honest, as the tunnel opened to sky again.
"Feels good, doesn't it?" the salesman said with a grin.
Lucas nodded, keeping his eyes on the road.
"Yeah. It's… balanced. Like it knows what it's doing."
The rest of the drive was quieter. He tested the steering, the brakes, the way the car leaned just enough in fast corners.
Every motion felt right. Predictable. Confident.
By the time they pulled back into the dealership, the engine fan was still humming softly, the warmth of the drive lingering in the air.
Lucas shut it off and sat still for a moment.
He could smell the faint trace of heat and exhaust, the kind that only a real drive leaves behind.
It was familiar in a strange way — something he hadn't realized he'd missed.
The salesman broke the silence. "So?"
Lucas turned the key in his hand, thoughtful.
"I think this one fits me better than anything else I've seen."
The man smiled. "Then maybe it's time to talk about options?"
Lucas stepped out and looked back once more.
Under the lights, the RS7 seemed alive — elegant, but ready to run again.
"Yeah," he said quietly. "Let's talk."
The office smelled faintly of coffee and leather.
A soft hum came from the computer on the desk.
Lucas sat back, arms folded, watching the RS7 turn slowly on the screen.
Matte grey paint. Wide stance. Sharp lines.
It already felt right.
The salesman scrolled to the first screen.
"Color?"
Lucas leaned forward a little. On the monitor, the car shimmered under showroom light.
"Matte Nardo Grey," he said. "No gloss."
The man nodded, clicked again.
"Wheels?"
"Black forged twenty-ones. The others look too heavy."
He watched the render update.
It looked sharper now, cleaner.
"Brakes?"
"Ceramic," Lucas said. "If I'm doing this, I'm doing it right."
"Interior?"
"Black Alcantara, red stitching. Carbon trim. Keep it simple."
The salesman raised his eyebrows. "Sport package?"
Lucas smiled faintly. "Everything that makes noise, yes."
Each choice came quick. Not rushed, just certain.
He'd done this a thousand times before — only now it wasn't a ride design or a park budget.
It was something for himself.
When the list ended, the total appeared on the screen.
€164,870.
Lucas nodded. "That's fine."
The salesman looked up. "Would you like to review financing?"
"No need."
He signed the form. A blue checkmark blinked, then disappeared.
The man smiled politely. "Congratulations, Mr. van den Berg. One of the most complete RS7s we've done this year. Delivery late March."
"Good," Lucas said. "I'll pick it up myself."
He stood, shook hands, and walked out.
Outside, the light had turned golden.
The demo car behind the glass caught the sun just right — the same color, the same shape.
For a moment, he stopped to look at it.
It wasn't about showing off.
It was about arriving somewhere he'd built himself.
He got into his old car. The seat creaked.
He turned the key. The small engine hummed softly.
A smile flickered across his face.
Soon, he'd trade this sound for something deeper.
He drove home without music, windows down, cold air filling the cabin.
It felt calm.
Like the first time he'd stopped chasing and just started living.