Archives: Hellrot M3

March 1st

On a random Friday morning, I found myself hopping into my 1999 Mazda Miata, ready to drive three hours from San Diego to Venice Beach. The plan? Meet a boy I’d connected with on Instagram just ten days earlier. It felt spontaneous, borderline reckless—half of me hoped for something life-changing, while the other half just said, "Screw it. Drive, have fun, meet this crazy drift guy with cool cars, and don’t expect anything."

quick first date parking ticket pic for the digital scrapbook

I arrived early, as I always do, scoping out the area and nervously waiting. When he finally showed up—late, as I’ve since learned is his norm—I spotted him instantly. His wide grin in a striking red BMW M3 rolled down the dead-end street toward me. I waved him over to where I was parked, and there we were, standing face to face for the first time—this guy with a beautiful car, an even more beautiful face, and an effortlessly cool presence in his grey cargo pants, a vintage t-shirt, and FTP jacket.

We walked to a nearby restaurant, where we had our first real conversation—our first date, if you will. From the moment I’d FaceTimed him a few days earlier, I’d been hooked—his voice, the way he carried himself. Meeting him in person only deepened that feeling.

After lunch, we headed to Malibu for what I had been waiting for—a canyon drifting session. That was what had drawn me to him in the first place. I’d stumbled across his page, his videos of wild canyon drifts in his old BMWs had hooked me instantly. I’d been obsessed with the idea of experiencing the thrill of being a passenger in a drift car, especially an old BMW. Growing up with a dad who shared a deep love for cars, I’d had my fair share of exhilarating rides, but this... this was something entirely different- the raw, unfiltered energy of drifting had definitely grabbed my attention.

When we got to the canyon, I parked the Miata on the side of the mountain and slid into the passenger seat of his M3. It was cold, foggy, and misty—so much so that visibility was barely five feet ahead. The lack of clarity only heightened the thrill of what we were about to do. For some, it might have been terrifying, but I wasn’t scared at all. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe it was the boy next to me, whose presence alone made my stomach churn with excitement.

As we climbed the canyon roads, the feeling was indescribable. The sound of the engine, the sharp turns, the sheer excitement of the unknown—it was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. And through it all, I couldn’t stop smiling and glancing over at this stranger, completely enamored. That day was so much more than I anticipated. It wasn’t just about meeting someone new, seeing a new place, or diving headfirst into a passion I’d only dreamed about. It was about the energy, the connection, and the overwhelming feeling that something significant was happening.

Even now, I look back on that day as one of my absolute favorites. It was the perfect mix of discovery, adrenaline, and pure joy—the kind of day that reminds you why life’s best moments are often the ones you never see coming.

Shot on Instax mini Evo

Almost a Year Later

Nearly a year has passed since that foggy day in Malibu when I first slid into the passenger seat of Tony’s M3, my heart racing with a mix of adrenaline and something I couldn’t quite name at the time. Since then, we’ve shared countless exhilarating drives together in many different cars. But nothing—*nothing*—will ever compare to the magic of that first ride. This past year has been a whirlwind of experiences. We’ve pushed limits at the track , experienced a traumatizing car accident, and taken the leap to move to another state, starting a new chapter of our lives together. As we plan for our move to across the country, the decision to sell the M3 was made. To me, the M3 is more than just a car; it’s a piece of our story, a tangible reminder of most significant and unforgettable moments of my life.

But as bittersweet as it is to let it go, I’ve come to realize that what matters most isn’t the car itself—it’s us. It’s the memories we’ve built, the connection we’ve grown, and the life we’re creating together. The M3 may be moving on to someone else, but it will always be a reminder of that foggy, thrilling, perfect first ride with the boy who changed my world.