#metgala

lando: tacos secured 😭🌮 → ameliedayman: as they should be → maxfewtrell: expensive tacos btw

lando: charlie kinda stole the weekend from us → ameliedayman: deserved honestly → fanameliee: HIS LITTLE FACE 😭

emmachamberlain: charlie on the table 😭😭😭 → ameliedayman: he was exhausted → fanameliee: same honestly

fanameliee: THE HAND HOLDING PIC I’M SICK 😭 → goldenhouramelie: they look so happy → softamelie: glowing

ameliecore: “so lando pays for my tacos” 😭😭😭 → cherryvibes: valid reason

stelladayman: orange is VERY your color btw → ameliedayman: noted ✍️

carmenmmundt: the pink dress hello??? → ameliedayman: she had her moment

schecoperez: i respect the grind for free tacos → ameliedayman: finally someone understands me

papayagirl: charlie having paddock access before me hurts → loveroflan: little VIP → lanmeliehub: tiny king

sunsetamelie: the trophy pic omg 🥹

elysiadayman: the lego keychain close up 😭 → ameliedayman: my emotional support accessory → fanpageamelie: cutest thing ever

lanfan44: yeah no he’s smiling HARD in every pic → papayaprincess: happiest man alive → loveroflan: genuinely glowing

fanpageamelie: the lego keychain detail i’m gonna cry 😭 → cherryvibes: she’s down BAD

alex_albon: charlie looked very comfortable in hospitality → ameliedayman: basically works there now → lilymhe: employee of the month

georgerussell63: nice trophy → lando: thanks mate

ameliecentral: she really became a full mclaren girl → goldenhouramelie: orange army → softamelie: fully converted

gridgirlie: the paddock hand holding pic looks like a movie still → f1tea: cinematic

softamelie: charlie on the chair with his face on the table 😭 → goldenhouramelie: he’s just a baby → sunsetamelie: exhausted employee

lanmeliecentral: he got P2 AND a girlfriend wearing orange all weekend → papayaprincess: winning → loveroflan: successful weekend

amelievibes: these pics feel so warm and happy 🥹 → cherryvibes: comfort post

rebeccadonaldson: charlie in hospitality 😭💗 → ameliedayman: he loves race weekends → carmenmmundt: little paddock baby

kellypiquet: the orange dress is everything ✨ → ameliedayman: thank you angel 🥹 → lilymhe: seriously unreal

kikagomes: okay miss mclaren 😭🧡 → ameliedayman: caught me → kikagomes: officially recruited

fanameliee: the way she looks at him 😭 → goldenhouramelie: so in love → softamelie: painfully obvious

papayagirl: not the lego keychain making another appearance → loveroflan: emotional support keychain

alexandramalenaleclerc: the pink dresssssss → ameliedayman: she deserved miami

estebanocon: charlie looked happier than everyone else there → lando: honestly true → ameliedayman: he had the best weekend

ameliecore: she said “our trophy” btw 😭 → cherryvibes: I SAW THAT → dreamygirlie: married behavior

sunsetamelie: the pic of them in the stands feels so intimate 🥹 → goldenhouramelie: comfort energy → softclouds: home

lanfan44: miami might’ve been his happiest race weekend ever 😭 → papayaprincess: look at his FACE

maxverstappen1: didn’t know trophies could be shared now → lando: depends who asks → ameliedayman: exactly

oscarpiastri: charlie seems comfortable in the team hospitality → lando: he pays rent now

fanpageamelie: charlie casually living the paddock life now 😭 → cherryvibes: frequent flyer → dreamygirlie: little mascot

amelievibes: this whole dump feels like sunshine → goldenhouramelie: exactly

lanmeliezone: the fact she flew from ending tour straight into race girlfriend mode 😭 → papayaprincess: range → loveroflan: versatile queen

coastallover: these pics genuinely look like they had the best weekend ever

softamelie: “making mclaren my whole personality” already happened btw → goldenhouramelie: long ago → sunsetamelie: fully orange now

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The suite felt strangely quiet compared to the chaos they had left behind at the circuit, the soft hum of the air conditioning and the distant sound of rain against the windows replacing the endless noise of engines, radios, cameras, and voices that had followed them all day. Miami glittered outside the floor-to-ceiling glass in blurred streaks of gold and white through the storm, the city softened by the heavy rain still pouring relentlessly over everything, thunder rumbling faintly somewhere far enough away to feel more atmospheric than threatening. Their dinner sat half-finished on the table near the living area, room service plates pushed around more than eaten, the exhaustion hanging over both of them too heavily for either to care much about food anymore. Midnight had long passed, and somewhere between dessert arriving untouched and the fifth weather update from the team, they had finally accepted they were stranded in Miami for the night instead of flying to New York for the Met Gala preparations like planned.

The hotel room door clicked shut behind them after one final check from security downstairs, and the second it did, the little bit of composure Amelie had watched Lando force himself through all evening seemed to slip further out of his grasp. She barely had time to crouch near the entrance and unclip Charlie from his leash before the dog exploded into motion, sprinting across the suite in excited circles with the kind of endless energy only he could still possess at this hour, nails skidding briefly against the hardwood floors before disappearing toward the bedroom area. A soft laugh almost escaped her instinctively at the sight, but it faded before it fully formed as her attention shifted back toward Lando.

He didn’t even make it all the way to the couch properly.

His body practically collapsed into it, one arm thrown over the backrest, the other hanging uselessly at his side as he let his head fall backward against the cushions, eyes fixed blankly on the ceiling like he didn’t have enough left in him to focus on anything else. The black McLaren team shirt he had changed into after the race sat wrinkled against him now, damp slightly at the collar from the rain outside, his curls messy from hours of running frustrated hands through them. There was something devastatingly tired about him like this, not just physically exhausted but hollowed out in a way she recognized immediately, the kind of quiet that only came when he was trying too hard to keep everything inside.

Amelie slowly stood from where she had crouched by the door, smoothing her palms nervously against the orange fabric of her dress more out of habit than necessity, the satin cool beneath her fingers as she hesitated for half a second, watching him from across the room. She knew this version of him by now. The one that withdrew into himself after races like this, after missed wins, after strategy calls that spiraled into frustration he couldn’t control. Most of the time he tried to deal with it alone, tried to shove it somewhere deep enough that nobody would notice how badly it got to him, but tonight there was something heavier sitting on his shoulders, something more fragile underneath the frustration.

Her steps stayed quiet against the carpet as she crossed the suite toward him, Charlie already circling back now, slowing near the couch before hopping onto the rug nearby with a satisfied sigh. Lando barely moved when she approached, only blinking slowly as her shadow fell across him, his expression still distant, still stuck somewhere back at the circuit.

Without a word, she lowered herself carefully onto the couch beside his head, turning slightly so her legs tucked underneath her, and gently reached for him. Her fingers slid into his curls at the nape of his neck first, soft and grounding, and she felt the faintest tension leave him immediately at the touch alone. Slowly, carefully, she guided him upward just enough for her to shift beneath him, letting his head settle onto her lap as naturally as breathing, like they had done this a hundred times before.

He let her.

No resistance.

No teasing comment.

Just a quiet exhale through his nose as he finally relaxed into her, one arm moving automatically across his stomach while her fingers threaded slowly through his hair, scratching lightly against his scalp in the way she knew soothed him most. The city lights flickered dimly across the room around them, rain tapping steadily against the windows while she looked down at him, studying the exhaustion written all over his face now that he wasn’t trying to hide it.

—What’s going on in there?— she asked softly after a moment, her voice barely louder than the rain, gentle enough that it didn’t feel like pressure, only an invitation.

For a second he didn’t answer.

His eyes stayed fixed somewhere distant before he finally let out a long, heavy sigh, both hands coming up to drag over his face slowly like he was trying to physically wipe the frustration off himself. The movement lingered there for a moment, palms pressed against his eyes, and when he finally spoke, his voice sounded rougher than usual, quieter too.

—I don’t know how I’m supposed to defend a championship like this,— he admitted finally, the words leaving him in a tired rush like they had been sitting in his chest for hours waiting for somewhere safe enough to land, his hands sliding slowly down from his face before dropping against his stomach again. His gaze stayed fixed upward, not really looking at the ceiling anymore, more like he was staring through it, somewhere far beyond the suite, beyond Miami, beyond tonight entirely. —Every weekend it feels like something else goes wrong. A pit stop, strategy, timing, whatever the fuck it is. And everyone just acts like it’s normal.—

Amelie’s fingers slowed slightly in his hair, not stopping, just softening as she listened, her other hand resting lightly against his shoulder, grounding him there against her lap while the storm carried on outside. She didn’t interrupt him, didn’t rush to fill the silence with reassurance too quickly because she knew he hated that sometimes, hated when people tried to smooth over things that actually hurt.

His jaw tightened faintly before he let out another frustrated breath.

—Kimi deserved the win, obviously,— he continued quietly, the honesty automatic even through the frustration because that was who he was, because he would never pretend otherwise. —He drove well. But we should’ve had that race. We had the pace. I had it under control and then one bad call and suddenly I’m stuck trying to recover again while everyone else gets to capitalize on our mistakes.— His mouth pressed into a thin line for a second before he shook his head slightly against her lap, frustrated more at himself now for even sounding this affected. —And the worst part is I can already hear people talking about consistency and pressure and whether I’m actually capable of defending it like last year was some fluke.—

The last part came out quieter.

Smaller.

Like admitting it aloud made it more real than he wanted it to be.

Amelie looked down at him carefully, her chest tightening at the vulnerability in his voice more than the words themselves. Publicly, Lando always carried disappointment differently than most drivers. He joked through it, shrugged things off, redirected attention, turned frustration into sarcasm before anyone could look too closely. People saw the easy smile and assumed losses rolled off him easier than they actually did. They never saw this part. The quiet aftermath. The spiraling thoughts at midnight after the cameras disappeared.

Her fingers moved gently through his curls again, slower this time, nails lightly scratching against his scalp the way she knew calmed him when his thoughts started running too fast.

—You know what I think?— she asked softly after a moment, her voice careful, measured.

His eyes shifted upward slightly toward her without fully lifting his head, exhausted and unconvinced already.

A tiny breath left her nose before she continued anyway.

—I think you’ve spent so long proving yourself to people that now the second something goes wrong, you immediately think everyone’s waiting for you to fail again,— she murmured, her gaze staying on him, steady and warm. —But that’s not actually what’s happening, Lan. One bad strategy call doesn’t erase the fact that you’re still leading a championship fight because you’re good enough to be there in the first place.—

His expression barely shifted, but she felt the way his shoulders loosened just slightly underneath her hand anyway.

—It’s not one bad strategy call,— he muttered quietly, frustration threading back through his voice immediately. —It keeps happening. And every point matters now. Every mistake matters. I can’t just… smile through it forever while everyone keeps fucking up around me.—

The honesty of it sat heavy between them.

Not angry.

Just tired.

So deeply tired.

Amelie swallowed softly, knowing there wasn’t some perfect thing she could say to fix the feeling sitting inside him, no magical reassurance that would suddenly make the pressure disappear. Formula 1 didn’t work like that. Championships definitely didn’t. Still, she shifted slightly against the couch, one hand leaving his hair just long enough to brush gently across his cheek before resting there.

—You don’t have to smile through it with me,— she said quietly.

That got his attention more than anything else had.

His eyes finally lifted properly toward hers, tired and heavy and vulnerable in a way he only ever allowed in private, the tension in his face softening just slightly as she held his gaze.

—You’re allowed to be angry. Or scared. Or frustrated. You care about this more than anyone I know,— she continued softly. —And yeah, maybe the team messed up today. Maybe they’ve messed up before. But none of that changes who you are in the car. None of it changes the fact that you’re still one of the best drivers on that grid even when everything around you feels messy.—

A quiet silence settled after that, softer now, less suffocating than before.

Lando stared at her for a long second like he was trying to decide whether he believed her or just wanted to because it was her saying it. Slowly, his head turned slightly into her hand where it rested against his cheek, not even consciously, just instinctively seeking the warmth there.

—I hate how much this affects me sometimes,— he admitted eventually, almost embarrassed by it, his voice quieter now. —Like logically I know it’s one race. But it doesn’t feel like one race when you’re in it. It feels like everything.—

Amelie’s expression softened instantly at that.

Because she understood that feeling more than he realized.

Not Formula 1 specifically, not strategy calls or pit windows, but the crushing weight of living inside something people consumed publicly, the way one bad night could suddenly feel career-defining even when everyone else insisted it wasn’t.

Her thumb brushed slowly beneath his eye.

—That’s because you care,— she whispered simply. —And honestly? I think I’d be more worried if you didn’t.—

A small breath escaped him then, almost a laugh but not quite, the tension around his mouth easing faintly for the first time since they’d gotten back to the hotel. His eyes slipped shut again as she continued playing with his hair, quieter now, calmer, the storm outside filling the spaces between them while Charlie wandered back over and curled up near the couch like even he could sense the heaviness in the room easing slightly.

For a while neither of them spoke again.

They didn’t need to.

Lando stayed there with his head in her lap, no walls left up anymore, no pretending he was fine for the sake of anyone else, just exhausted and disappointed and human in a way very few people ever got to see. And Amelie held him through all of it without trying to solve him, without trying to make the pressure disappear, simply giving him somewhere safe enough to let it exist without carrying it alone.

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lanmelieupdates: lando and amelie spotted having breakfast together in miami this morning 😭☕️🤍

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papayagirl: THE CHEEK KISS 😭😭😭 → loveroflan: i’m unwell → lanmeliehub: too soft for me

ameliecore: wait… HE SHAVED 👀 → goldenhouramelie: EXACTLY → softamelie: met gala alarm bells

fanameliee: yeah no they’re definitely still going to the met → cherryvibes: that shave confirmed it

sunsetamelie: they look so domestic i can’t 😭☕️ → goldenhouramelie: just breakfast and being in love → softclouds: painful honestly

lanfan44: imagine casually getting breakfast and seeing THEM → papayaprincess: i’d faint → loveroflan: immediately

ameliecentral: the way she’s wrapped around his shoulders 🥹 → cherryvibes: comfort people

papayadreams: what were they smiling at on his phone 🤨 → loveroflan: memes probably → lanmeliehub: or pics of charlie 😭

fanpageamelie: the shave means SOMETHING idc

lanmeliezone: maybe they missed the flight because of weather and are flying later 👀 → papayaprincess: that’s my theory too → loveroflan: i refuse to lose hope

amelievibes: they genuinely look so happy lately 🥹 → cherryvibes: glowing

f1girlie: imagine they just skip the met to stay in miami together 😭 → gridwatcher: honestly iconic → f1tea: respect

softamelie: no because him shaving right after race weekend is suspicious → goldenhouramelie: exactly → sunsetamelie: he planned something

fanameliee: breakfast date before serving at the met would be elite behavior → cherryvibes: manifestation circle

lanfanclub: yeah no he looks TOO happy for someone allegedly stuck in miami → papayaprincess: exactly 😭 → loveroflan: suspiciously happy

amelieupdates: the kiss on the cheek pic feels straight out of pinterest

papayagirl: if they show up at the met tonight i’ll scream → loveroflan: same → lanmeliehub: collectively

sunsetamelie: they really turned a delayed flight into a date 😭 → cherryvibes: making the best of it

amelievibes: no because the shave genuinely changed the trajectory of my day 😭 → goldenhouramelie: SAME → softclouds: met gala panic mode

papayadreams: imagine they’re just chilling while the internet loses its mind over a razor → cherryvibes: exactly 😭

fanameliee: the little smile while she kisses his cheek 😭 → softamelie: he looks so gone → sunsetamelie: completely in love

lanfan44: if they skipped the met honestly i respect it

sunsetamelie: they look SO relaxed together lately 🥹 → goldenhouramelie: comfort level 100 → softclouds: home energy

ameliecentral: not us turning into FBI agents because he shaved → cherryvibes: we have no choice

lanmeliezone: what if dior is styling them both 👀 → papayaprincess: STOP → loveroflan: i’d pass away

coastallover: the wrapped around his shoulders pic is literally romance movie behavior → cherryvibes: airport romcom vibes

fanpageamelie: delayed flight but make it adorable 😭 → goldenhouramelie: silver lining → softamelie: cutest ever

papayagirl: imagine they board a flight last minute and suddenly appear at the met → loveroflan: cinematic entrance

ameliecore: they smile at each other like they know a secret 😭

lanfanclub: yeah no he definitely shaved because she told him to 😭 → papayaprincess: boyfriend behavior → loveroflan: absolutely

softamelie: breakfast date after race weekend sounds so intimate idk → goldenhouramelie: little moments matter → sunsetamelie: exactly this

fanameliee: if they don’t go to the met at least we got THIS content 😭 → cherryvibes: true

amelieupdates: the weather delay accidentally gave us the cutest pics ever → goldenhouramelie: blessing in disguise → softamelie: genuinely

gridgirlie: i just know the people around them were trying not to stare 😭 → f1tea: impossible task

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Lando genuinely didn’t know how the day had moved this fast.

One minute they had been downstairs in the Miami hotel restaurant, both of them half-awake over coffee and fruit neither of them really wanted, the storm still raging outside the windows while the team tried to figure out whether flights were even possible, and the next thing he knew they were being rushed through a private terminal with three different schedules being rewritten in real time because apparently the universe had decided they weren’t stressed enough already. He had spent most of the drive to the airport thinking maybe—just maybe—the delayed flight would at least give him a few quiet hours to shut his brain off before the insanity waiting for them in New York, before fittings and cameras and interviews and the Met Gala chaos neither of them had actually slept enough for.

Of course none of that happened.

Because things around them rarely ever went the easy way.

By the time they finally boarded near midday instead of the previous night, the private jet already looked less like transportation and more like a moving backstage area, garment bags hanging carefully from every available hook, makeup cases spread across counters, steaming devices hissing softly in corners while assistants moved around with the kind of controlled panic that came from being catastrophically late on a schedule nobody could afford to miss. The second they stepped on board, they had practically been separated without discussion.

Lando had ended up trapped in the front section while stylists fixed his hair and argued quietly over jackets and accessories, the exhaustion from Miami still sitting behind his eyes while someone tugged gently at his curls for what felt like the millionth time that weekend. Somewhere further back in the cabin he could hear Amelie’s laugh drifting faintly between the noise, mixed with Meredith’s voice and Jared reminding someone not to wrinkle fabric that probably cost more than his first kart.

By the time the last person finally stepped back from him with an approving nod, his patience had completely evaporated.

—Perfect,— one of them announced brightly, like they hadn’t all been awake for nearly twenty-four hours straight.

Lando only managed a tired hum in response before standing slowly from the chair, rubbing one hand down his face as he muttered a quiet thanks that sounded more exhausted than polite. His shoulders ached. His brain felt heavy. The idea of stepping into another room full of people somehow already felt impossible.

The cabin shifted slightly beneath his feet as he moved down the narrow aisle toward the back section, loosening the collar of his shirt absentmindedly while voices grew louder the closer he got. The private room door near the rear of the jet stood half-open, and Amelie sat closest to it, one leg crossed carefully over the other while someone worked meticulously on her nails, tiny bottles and tools spread across the table beside her.

She looked up immediately when he approached.

Even tired, even surrounded by chaos, her face softened the second she saw him.

Lando’s hand brushed automatically against her shoulder as he passed behind her chair, fingers squeezing gently for just a second, and she tilted her head up toward him with that same soft smile that somehow always managed to make something unclench inside his chest no matter how exhausted he was.

He leaned down instinctively, pressing a quick kiss against her lips, slow enough to linger for a second before pulling back.

—You alright?— she asked quietly, studying him immediately in that way she always did, like she could tell the difference between tired and something heavier without him needing to explain it.

He nodded once.

—Yeah,— he murmured softly. —Just gonna grab my charger.—

It wasn’t entirely a lie.

Mostly just incomplete.

Amelie watched him disappear toward the private suite at the very back of the plane, her brows pulling together slightly as the door closed behind him. She stayed still for a second longer before letting out a tiny sigh through her nose.

—Sorry,— she murmured toward the nail artist before carefully shifting in her seat.

Immediately Jared looked up from where he sat across from Meredith and Carla, his expression already suspicious because apparently he knew her too well by now.

—Be careful with the nails,— he warned immediately, pointing at her without even pretending to soften the tone. —And I’m giving you five minutes. If you’re not back, I’m coming to get you myself.—

Amelie rolled her eyes automatically as she stood carefully, holding her hands slightly awkwardly away from herself while the fresh polish dried.

—Yes, dad,— she replied dryly, earning an unimpressed look from him before she slipped out the door anyway.

The hallway of the jet felt quieter away from the chaos, softer somehow, the steady hum of the engines filling the space underneath everything else. She pushed open the private suite door gently before closing it behind her again, immediately scanning the room.

Empty.

Well.

Mostly.

Charlie’s head lifted instantly from where he had claimed the center of the bed like he paid for the flight himself, ears perking up the second he saw her before he scrambled excitedly toward the edge, tail wagging hard enough to shake half his body.

—Sorry,— she murmured toward the nail artist before carefully shifting in her seat.

Immediately Jared looked up from where he sat across from Meredith and Carla, his expression already suspicious because apparently he knew her too well by now.

—Be careful with the nails,— he warned immediately, pointing at her without even pretending to soften the tone. —And I’m giving you five minutes. If you’re not back, I’m coming to get you myself.—

Amelie rolled her eyes automatically as she stood carefully, holding her hands slightly awkwardly away from herself while the fresh polish dried.

—Yes, dad,— she replied dryly, earning an unimpressed look from him before she slipped out the door anyway.

The hallway of the jet felt quieter away from the chaos, softer somehow, the steady hum of the engines filling the space underneath everything else. She pushed open the private suite door gently before closing it behind her again, immediately scanning the room.

Empty.

Well.

Mostly.

Charlie’s head lifted instantly from where he had claimed the center of the bed like he paid for the flight himself, ears perking up the second he saw her before he scrambled excitedly toward the edge, tail wagging hard enough to shake half his body.

A small smile tugged at her mouth despite herself.

—Hi, baby,— she murmured softly, walking toward the bed before practically dropping onto it face-first with a tired groan, careful only at the last second to avoid ruining her nails.

Charlie immediately climbed on top of her like he had been personally abandoned, paws pressing against her stomach while she laughed quietly and started scratching behind his ears automatically.

The bathroom door finally clicked open a few seconds later, soft light spilling across the darker cabin suite as steam drifted faintly out behind him, and Amelie lifted her head just enough from where it had sunk into the comforter to see Lando step back into the room. His tie was already loosened again despite the fact that someone would absolutely fix it the second he returned to the glam section, the sleeves of his shirt rolled unevenly to his forearms like he had stopped caring halfway through, exhaustion hanging from him in visible waves now that nobody else was in the room forcing him to hold himself together properly.

Charlie abandoned her immediately.

Traitor.

The dog scrambled off her stomach the second he noticed Lando, sprinting toward him with renewed excitement, and Lando barely had enough energy to react before Charlie’s paws hit his legs.

—Mate,— he sighed tiredly, though there was no real annoyance behind it, only exhaustion softened by affection as he bent slightly to scratch absentmindedly at the dog’s head.

His charger dangled loosely from one hand.

So apparently he had actually gone to get it.

Amelie watched him quietly while he crossed the room, the slight drag in his steps impossible to miss now that they were alone, the kind of tiredness that sat deeper than sleep. He dropped the charger somewhere near the nightstand without looking before sitting beside her on the edge of the bed with a long exhale, shoulders slumping forward for a second like his body had finally stopped pretending it wasn’t running on fumes.

Then, without a word, he let himself fall backward beside her.

The mattress dipped softly beneath his weight.

Charlie immediately settled between them like this had always been the plan.

For a few seconds neither of them said anything. They just laid there side by side staring up at the ceiling of the private suite while the low vibration of the plane hummed beneath them, muffled voices drifting faintly through the walls from the glam area outside. Somewhere further toward the front of the jet someone laughed too loudly before being shushed immediately after, and the normality of it made the moment feel strangely suspended, carved out from the chaos around them.

Amelie turned her head first.

Her eyes moved slowly across his profile, taking in the exhaustion sitting heavy beneath his eyes, the slight tension still lingering in his jaw even now, and something in her chest softened painfully at how hard he was trying to carry all of it quietly.

—You know…— she started softly, fingers absentmindedly scratching lightly at Charlie’s side while she spoke, —we don’t have to go if you don’t want to.—

Lando’s eyes shifted toward her slowly.

—To the Met,— she clarified gently. —We could literally fake our deaths and disappear in New York for a day. People would survive.—

That earned the faintest breath of amusement from him, barely there but enough that she noticed it.

—You’re performing tonight,— he murmured after a second, voice rough with exhaustion but softer than before. —Missing that’s probably not an option.—

Amelie shrugged one shoulder slightly against the mattress.

—Maybe I suddenly lose my voice dramatically. Very tragic. Very artistic.—

A quiet scoff left him at that, finally turning his head fully toward her now.

—No chance,— he muttered.

Her mouth curved a little at hearing something closer to him again instead of the distant version that had existed since Miami ended.

—Okay,— she conceded lightly. —Then you can be the one drinking tonight and I’ll be the responsible adult for once.—

Lando actually looked offended.

His brows lifted slowly as he stared at her for a second like she had just said the most ridiculous thing he had ever heard in his life.

—Really?— he asked flatly.

Amelie rolled her eyes immediately.

—Oh my God, shut up.—

—Responsible adult? You?— he continued, clearly too tired to properly tease her but unwilling to let it go anyway. —That’s genuinely one of the craziest things you’ve ever said to me.—

—I can be responsible,— she defended weakly, though even she didn’t sound fully convinced.

Lando hummed skeptically.

—Mhm.—

She shoved his shoulder lightly.

—You’re annoying.—

—You once cried because a waiter told you they ran out of fries.—

—I was overwhelmed.—

—You also almost got arrested in Milan because you tried climbing a fountain at two in the morning.—

—That was one time.—

—There are photos, Amelie.—

She groaned dramatically, dropping her face into the pillow for a second while he let out the quietest laugh she’d heard from him all day, tired and rough around the edges but real enough to loosen something in her chest.

When she lifted her head again, he was already looking at her differently now.

Softer.

More present.

The heaviness from Miami still sat behind his eyes, still lingered around him like something bruised, but it wasn’t swallowing him whole anymore. Not here.

Not with her.

Amelie’s expression softened too as she looked back at him, her voice quieter when she spoke again.

—I just want you to have fun tonight,— she admitted honestly. —Like… actually fun. Not sponsor dinner fun.—

Something in his face shifted at that.

The corners of his mouth pulled upward faintly, tired but genuine, his gaze holding hers longer this time.

—With you I always have fun,— he said simply.

The words landed softly between them.

Too soft.

Too honest.

Amelie felt her smile break before she could stop it, smaller this time, warmer, and Lando’s eyes dropped briefly to her mouth like the movement had pulled him there automatically.

The space between them disappeared slowly.

Naturally.

Like it always did.

He leaned in first, one hand sliding lazily across the sheets until his fingers brushed against her waist, and she turned toward him without thinking, meeting him halfway as his lips touched hers in a kiss that started soft enough to almost feel sleepy. Exhaustion lingered in it, in the way neither of them rushed, in the way he exhaled quietly against her mouth before kissing her again slower this time, deeper, like the rest of the world had finally quieted enough for him to breathe properly again.

Charlie shifted indignantly between them, squished by the movement.

Neither cared.

Amelie’s hand lifted instinctively toward his jaw, fingertips brushing lightly against the slight roughness there while his thumb traced absentminded circles against her side beneath the fabric of her clothes, and for a second everything outside the room disappeared entirely.

The door suddenly swung open.

They broke apart immediately.

Too quickly.

Lando pulled back just enough to look vaguely guilty while Amelie blinked up toward the doorway, still slightly breathless, and there stood Jared with his arms crossed and the most unimpressed expression either of them had ever seen.

He pointed dramatically toward the watch on his wrist.

—Five minutes,— he said flatly.

Amelie let out a groan loud enough to qualify as suffering while Lando dropped his head back against the mattress with a tired laugh, one hand dragging over his face.

—You’re worse than Meredith,— Amelie complained.

—And yet somehow you fear me more,— Jared replied without missing a beat.

Unfortunately.

He was correct.

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hollywoodfix: BREAKING 🚨 Amelie Dayman’s private jet has officially landed in New York ahead of tonight’s Met Gala 👀 passengers were covered exiting the plane with umbrellas due to the rain, but fans are convinced it was Amelie and Lando Norris arriving together after spending the weekend in Miami…

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papayagirl: THE SHAVE MEANT SOMETHING AFTER ALL 😭 → loveroflan: WE WERE RIGHT → lanmeliehub: detective work successful

ameliecore: umbrellas??? this is already cinematic → goldenhouramelie: met gala movie scene

fanameliee: THEY MADE THE FLIGHT OMG → cherryvibes: barely 😭 → dreamygirlie: last minute kings

sunsetamelie: imagine them getting ready together for the met 😭 → goldenhouramelie: i can’t handle this

lanfan44: yeah no he definitely shaved for tonight → papayaprincess: confirmed → loveroflan: evidence complete

ameliecentral: the umbrellas are taking me out 😭 → cherryvibes: hidden identities

fanpageamelie: miami breakfast to met gala in one day is crazy work → goldenhouramelie: power couple schedule → softamelie: booked and busy

lanmeliezone: imagine being on that jet 😭

amelievibes: they really went from paddock mode to fashion mode overnight → cherryvibes: range → dreamygirlie: unmatched

f1girlie: lando at the MET GALA… yeah i need to see this immediately → gridwatcher: history

softamelie: the way fans clocked the shave HOURS ago 😭 → goldenhouramelie: we know our people → sunsetamelie: never miss

fanameliee: watch them step out looking insane tonight

lanfanclub: the weather trying to stop them and failing 😭 → papayaprincess: love wins → loveroflan: always

amelieupdates: the umbrella pics feel so old hollywood → goldenhouramelie: exactly

papayagirl: i just know anna wintour approved this relationship personally → loveroflan: PLEASE 😭 → lanmeliehub: honorary theory

sunsetamelie: imagine the afterparty pics we’re getting later omg → cherryvibes: i’m seated

amelievibes: the umbrellas are so gossip girl coded 😭 → goldenhouramelie: upper east side energy → softclouds: literally

papayadreams: from a miami breakfast date to the met gala in HOURS 😭 → cherryvibes: insane schedule → dreamygirlie: celebrity life fr

fanameliee: the way we all immediately knew the shave was suspicious 😭

ameliecentral: they probably landed and immediately got dragged into fittings 😭 → cherryvibes: no rest ever → dreamygirlie: exhausting but iconic

lanmeliezone: what if the umbrellas are because they don’t want us seeing the looks yet 👀 → papayaprincess: EXACTLY

coastallover: i just know her met look is gonna destroy everyone → cherryvibes: vogue paddock foreshadowing → dreamygirlie: she’s coming for blood

fanpageamelie: lando at the met gala feels fake still 😭 → goldenhouramelie: alternate universe

papayagirl: imagine the airport staff realizing who just landed 😭 → loveroflan: chaos instantly → lanmeliehub: i’d lose my mind

ameliecore: this whole relationship feels like a fanfic sometimes → cherryvibes: genuinely

gridgirlie: paddock boyfriend to met gala boyfriend pipeline 😭

softamelie: if they walk together tonight i’ll never recover → goldenhouramelie: genuinely → sunsetamelie: life changing event

amelieupdates: this might be their most iconic day yet

fanameliee: the umbrellas somehow confirmed MORE than seeing them clearly 😭 → goldenhouramelie: exactly → softamelie: mystery works

lanfanclub: imagine them in the car on the way to the hotel scrolling through all our theories 😭 → papayaprincess: laughing at us

--------------

The top of the Met steps felt almost unreal beneath their feet, the noise from below softened just enough by distance to turn into a constant hum of cameras, voices, and music drifting upward through the warm New York night. The rain from Miami already felt like another universe entirely, though the exhaustion from the chaotic travel day still lingered somewhere beneath the adrenaline, hidden under layers of couture, makeup, and practiced smiles. Spotlights washed everything in gold and white, catching every rhinestone stitched into Amelie’s gown until she practically shimmered each time she moved, the strips of photographic film layered through the Dior dress flickering under the lights like pieces of actual cinema wrapped around her body.

Lando stayed just behind her as they reached the interview platform, his hand brushing lightly against the small of her back while assistants adjusted microphones and photographers shouted their names from somewhere below the stairs. The black Dior tuxedo somehow made him look even taller under the lights, the sharp tailoring impossibly clean against the chaos around them, though the silver floral brooch pinned at his lapel softened it just enough to mirror her look perfectly. Together they looked less like two exhausted people who had gotten ready on a private jet six hours ago and more like they had stepped directly out of some old Hollywood film themselves.

La La Anthony greeted Amelie first with immediate excitement the second she stepped toward the interview spot. —Oh my God, look at you,— she said warmly, reaching for her hand while production slipped a microphone into Amelie’s grasp. —This is incredible.—

Amelie laughed softly, still slightly breathless from the carpet itself, her eyes flicking briefly toward the cameras before back to La La. —Hi,— she greeted warmly.

Her gaze shifted almost immediately past the camera setup, finding Lando lingering just outside the frame while someone adjusted lighting near him.

—Lan, come here,— she called automatically, already reaching one hand out toward him.

He laughed quietly under his breath at the nickname slipping out so naturally before stepping closer without hesitation, moving beside her while someone hurried to place another mic in his hand. He greeted La La politely, exchanging a quick hug before settling beside Amelie, close enough that his arm brushed hers naturally.

La La looked between them dramatically. —You two are actually ridiculous tonight,— she declared, making both of them laugh immediately. —Like… this is art. Tell me everything because I cannot stop staring at this dress.—

Amelie looked down instinctively at the gown, carefully lifting a section of the skirt slightly between her fingers. —It’s custom Dior by Jonathan Anderson,— she explained, her voice softening slightly into something more genuine the second she started talking about it. —And it’s inspired by Sabrina, the Audrey Hepburn movie.—

—One of my favorite films ever,— she added quickly, smiling wider now. —The whole dress is made from strips of photographic film from the movie, which is insane because it took forever. They were literally sewing little Audrey Hepburn scenes onto me this morning.—

La La gasped dramatically, leaning closer to examine the details. —Stop. That is unbelievable.—

Lando looked over at her with a small smile that had already shifted from public-camera mode into something softer, more personal, like he genuinely still couldn’t get over seeing her in it.

—She’s been talking about this dress for months,— he added lightly. —I’ve known about Sabrina against my will for at least half a year now.—

Amelie elbowed him immediately, laughing. —You love Sabrina. Don’t lie.—

—I know the plot now,— he defended himself with mock seriousness. —That’s commitment.—

La La laughed loudly at that before turning toward him. —Okay, but this tux? Sir. You look good.—

Lando glanced down instinctively, slightly awkward already under the attention. —It’s Dior too,— he explained. —Jonathan basically tied both looks together with the silver details. Mine’s a bit simpler because obviously…— he gestured vaguely toward Amelie’s gown. —There’s no competing with this.—

—You clean up nicely though,— Amelie added sweetly, looking up at him with exaggerated sincerity.

—Thank you,— he replied immediately, completely serious in a way that made her laugh harder.

La La smiled watching them before shifting the conversation again. —Amelie, I have to ask. Coachella. That performance was unbelievable. How did that feel?—

Amelie blinked once like she genuinely had to think back to it. —Honestly? I think I blacked out a little bit,— she admitted, laughing softly. —Like… I remember getting on stage, and then suddenly it was over and I was in a car crying, so… I think it went well?—

La La burst into laughter. —That is the realest answer ever.—

—No, genuinely,— Amelie continued, smiling wider now. —It was so fun though. Terrifying, but fun. I think when something matters that much your brain just kind of… protects you from fully processing it in real time.—

Lando nodded beside her immediately. —She came off stage crying for like an hour after.—

—Okay, traitor,— she muttered under her breath, making him grin.

La La shifted toward him next. —And speaking of huge moments… world champion.—

The words still sounded strange every time somebody said them out loud.

Lando let out a tiny breath through his nose, smiling shyly almost immediately. —Yeah… weird,— he admitted honestly. —Really weird. Good weird. I still don’t think it fully feels real half the time.—

—You earned it though,— La La replied warmly.

His smile softened at that, quieter now. —Thank you.—

She looked between them again, clearly enjoying how naturally they bounced off each other. —Both of you have insane schedules. How do you make a relationship work with everything you each have going on?—

The question settled softer between them than most of the others had.

Amelie looked at Lando briefly before answering first. —A lot of FaceTime,— she said immediately.

—A concerning amount,— Lando corrected.

She nodded seriously. —Like genuinely unhealthy amounts.—

La La laughed while Lando continued. —I think it’s mostly just understanding each other’s worlds. Like… she gets when racing gets insane, and I understand when she disappears into rehearsals for twelve hours and forgets her phone exists.—

—I don’t forget it exists,— Amelie argued.

He turned to look at her flatly. —You once left me on delivered for fourteen hours.—

—I was working!—

—You posted on Instagram during those fourteen hours.—

La La was laughing so hard now she had to lower her microphone briefly.

Amelie shook her head dramatically before smiling again, softer this time. —We just try really hard to show up for each other whenever we can. Even when schedules are awful.—

Lando nodded once beside her, the edge of his thumb brushing lightly against her hand where nobody except the closest cameras would notice. —Yeah. That part matters most.—

La La visibly melted for a second before immediately recovering. —Okay, important question. Is tonight technically a date night?—

Both of them looked at each other at the exact same time with matching expressions of confusion, like neither had actually considered it before now.

—I mean…— Amelie started slowly, laughing.

—It’s been stressful enough today that I don’t think either of us remembered this was supposed to be glamorous,— Lando admitted.

—Our flight got rescheduled because of the weather,— Amelie explained. —So we literally got ready on the plane trying to make it here in time.—

La La gasped dramatically. —No.—

—Yes,— both of them answered at once.

Lando shook his head. —There were curling irons flying around turbulence. It was horrible.—

—Traumatizing actually,— Amelie added.

La La laughed again. —But now? Now it’s date night?—

Amelie smiled, glancing around the museum entrance glowing behind them. —I think now that the carpet’s over… yeah. Probably.—

—Yeah,— Lando agreed softly. —Now we can actually enjoy it a bit.—

—What are you most excited for inside?— La La asked.

—Friends,— Amelie answered immediately. —There’s so many people we haven’t seen in forever here tonight.—

—The performance,— Lando added casually.

Amelie’s head snapped toward him so fast the jeweled film-strip on her forehead caught the light dramatically.

—That's always fun, yeah— she say slowly, eyes narrowing suspiciously.

His expression immediately shifted into fake innocence. —Yeah...—

—You’re literally impossible,— she muttered, though the smile breaking across her face ruined any attempt at annoyance.

La La laughed loudly again, already shaking her head. —You two are adorable. I’m obsessed.—

Lando groaned softly at the word adorable while Amelie laughed beside him, leaning slightly into his shoulder without even noticing as flashes exploded around them all over again.

--------------

liked by papayadreams, lanmeliezone, and others

lanmelieupdates: “there were curling irons flying around turbulence” 😭✈️ lando and amelie’s met gala interview tonight was basically 10 minutes of them exposing each other, flirting, surviving weather delays, and somehow still looking like the prettiest people alive on the carpet 🤍

View all 831 comments

papayagirl: “i’ve known about Sabrina against my will for at least half a year now” 😭😭😭 → loveroflan: boyfriend of the YEAR → lanmeliehub: he learned the plot willingly btw

ameliecore: THE WAY HE LOOKS AT HER WHEN SHE TALKS ABOUT THE DRESS 😭 → goldenhouramelie: completely obsessed with her

fanameliee: “you posted on instagram during those fourteen hours” OH HE CLOCKED HER 😭 → cherryvibes: evidence presented immediately → dreamygirlie: no hesitation

sunsetamelie: “curling irons flying around turbulence” is taking me OUT 😭✈️ → goldenhouramelie: genuinely sounds traumatic

lanfan44: yeah no they’re actually best friends AND in love → papayaprincess: the perfect combo → loveroflan: exactly

ameliecentral: the thumb brushing against her hand part i’m SICK → cherryvibes: tiny gestures kill me

papayadreams: “a concerning amount” of facetime 😭 → loveroflan: long distance warriors → lanmeliehub: realest couple ever

fanpageamelie: “our flight got rescheduled” and they still showed up looking like THAT???

amelievibes: the way they answer questions together without thinking 🥹 → cherryvibes: synced up → dreamygirlie: soulmates idc

f1girlie: “you’re literally impossible” 😭 → gridwatcher: the fondness in that sentence

softamelie: him saying she cried for an hour after coachella 😭 → goldenhouramelie: proud boyfriend → sunsetamelie: so soft

fanameliee: “there’s no competing with this” ABOUT HER DRESS 😭 → cherryvibes: he admires her so much

lanfanclub: the fact he survived a plane full of glam teams and curling irons 😭

amelieupdates: “friends” “the performance” THEY’RE SO CUTE 😭 → goldenhouramelie: she got suspicious immediately

papayagirl: “now we can actually enjoy it a bit” 🥹 → loveroflan: finally date night → lanmeliehub: after all the chaos

sunsetamelie: this interview felt way too intimate to be public 😭 → cherryvibes: we witnessed something

ameliecore: lando groaning at being called adorable 😭 → goldenhouramelie: meanwhile he’s the most adorable man alive → softclouds: exactly

coastallover: “they were literally sewing little Audrey Hepburn scenes onto me this morning” 😭 → velvetroses: the dedication → midnightamelie: couture queen

lanmeliezone: the way he instantly thanked her compliment seriously 😭 → starrylan: “thank you” PLEASE

ameliehearts: “i think i blacked out a little bit” after HEADLINING coachella 😭

f1romantics: the interview started as fashion and turned into couple therapy 😭 → paddocklove: genuinely → raceweekendd: and i loved every second

goldenpapaya: “you left me on delivered for fourteen hours” 😭 → cherrysoda: he’s BEEN holding that in

sunflowermelie: the way she looked at him after he mentioned the performance inside 👀 → lovelane: she KNOWS him → dreamersclub: suspicious instantly

tracksidebabe: “i know the plot now. that’s commitment.” 😭 → lovergirlie: boyfriendism

ameliezone: no because them surviving turbulence while getting ready for the met is SO them → coastallover: chaotic glamorous couple → softclouds: romcom leads

papayaprincesss: “that part matters most” with the thumb brushing her hand 😭

velvetamelie: lando talking about her rehearsals like he’s witnessed all of it 🥹 → starrylan: because he probably has → moonlightvibes: support system fr

gridgirlypop: “adorable” making him groan 😭 → raceweekendd: meanwhile he’s literally smiling at her every 2 seconds

softpapaya: them looking at each other at the exact same time when asked if it was date night 😭 → dreamersclub: same brain

ameliehearts: “i’ve known about Sabrina against my will” meanwhile he knew every detail 😭

lan4worldchamp: him calling himself “public camera mode” without saying it 😭 → paddockangel: and then instantly softening around her → softfilms: you could SEE it

midnightamelie: the chemistry is actually insane → velvetroses: effortless

f1fairytale: this interview is gonna live in my head for months → moonlightvibes: permanently → raceweekendd: engraved into history

--------------

The applause still clung to her skin by the time she stepped away from the performance space, warm and echoing somewhere deep in her chest even as the orchestra area behind her slowly dissolved back into the polished chaos of the Met Gala dinner. Her heartbeat hadn’t fully settled yet, adrenaline still humming softly through her veins beneath the gown that shimmered every time the lights hit her. Conversations seemed louder now after being on stage, the entire museum alive with music, laughter, camera flashes, and the low clinking of glasses against plates, but everywhere she walked people stopped her, turning toward her with smiles and congratulations and lingering praise that made her feel slightly detached from herself, like she was watching the night happen from somewhere just outside her own body.

One actor stopped her to tell her the performance was “cinematic.” A designer grabbed both her hands dramatically and declared she had “healed old Hollywood.” Someone else kissed her cheek while talking excitedly about Coachella and the transition into the orchestra arrangement she had done tonight. She smiled through all of it warmly, graciously, still slightly breathless as she thanked each person one after another, her fingers curled loosely around the champagne flute somebody had handed her at some point and that she still hadn’t actually drunk from.

The room blurred softly around her as she continued back toward her table, until a familiar face caught her attention near one of the floral installations, and immediately her expression softened into something more genuine.

—Hailey,— Amelie greeted warmly.

Hailey Bieber turned toward her almost instantly, smiling wide before stepping forward to hug her carefully around the gown. —Oh my God, you were amazing,— she said immediately, pulling back just enough to look at her properly. —Like genuinely insane. Everyone was losing their minds at our table.—

Amelie laughed softly, still flushed slightly from performing. —Thank you,— she said honestly. —I was trying not to fall down the stairs the whole time.—

Hailey snorted quietly. —Nobody could tell.—

Amelie smiled again before something softer crossed her expression, her fingers brushing lightly against the stem of the untouched glass in her hand as she tilted her head slightly. —Actually… I wanted to thank you again,— she admitted.

Hailey blinked once, surprised. —Me? For what?—

A small, almost shy laugh escaped Amelie as she looked briefly down at the floor before back at her. —For Coachella. For the whole “One Less Lonely Girl” thing.—

Recognition immediately flashed across Hailey’s face, followed by immediate amusement.

—Oh my God.—

Amelie smiled wider now, softer around the edges. —I know that song is really special to you,— she continued carefully. —And I know the whole thing probably could’ve felt weird, but… I don’t know. It made little me really happy. Like genuinely healed some inner child thing I didn’t know I still had.—

Hailey’s expression melted instantly into something affectionate and understanding, a laugh slipping out of her as she shook her head lightly.

—You do not have to thank me for that,— she said immediately. —Besides, like I told you that day, the person who actually coordinated all of it was your boyfriend.—

Both of their heads turned almost instinctively toward the direction of Amelie’s table.

Lando sat there with his jacket unbuttoned now, tie loosened slightly, leaning back in his chair while talking animatedly with Marcello Hernández, one hand moving dramatically as he told some story that had half the table laughing. Even from across the room she could tell he had been drinking, the looseness in his posture obvious now compared to the carefully composed version of him from the carpet earlier. His cheeks were slightly flushed under the warm lighting, curls messier than before from repeatedly running his hands through them throughout the night.

Hailey followed Amelie’s gaze before smiling knowingly.

—He is so in love with you,— she said casually, though the certainty behind it made the words land heavier than expected.

Amelie looked back toward her slowly, the corners of her mouth lifting almost helplessly.

—So am I,— she replied quietly, meaning herself.

Hailey’s smile widened instantly at that. —Okay then,— she teased lightly. —When’s the ring coming?—

The question was clearly meant jokingly, playful and easy beneath the glamour and champagne haze of the night, but the reaction it pulled from Amelie happened before she could stop it.

Just a flicker.

A tiny hesitation.

Her smile faltered for half a second too long.

Hailey noticed immediately.

Her expression softened almost at once, concern replacing the teasing sparkle in her eyes. —Oh God,— she said quickly, lowering her voice slightly. —Did I push too much?—

—No,— Amelie answered immediately, shaking her head just as fast, the denial genuine even as she exhaled softly afterward. —No, you didn’t say anything wrong.—

She glanced back toward Lando again unconsciously, watching him laugh at something Marcello said before taking another sip of his drink.

—We both know we’re… it for each other,— she admitted more quietly now. —That part’s never really been the problem.—

Hailey tilted her head slightly, studying her. —Then what’s stopping you?—

The question sat between them gently, without judgment.

Amelie let out a soft breath through her nose, fingers tightening slightly around the stem of the glass. —Our lives,— she admitted after a moment. —The schedules. The traveling. Everything’s always moving so fast and… complicated.—

Hailey laughed softly at that, not mockingly, more like someone who had already lived through the exact same fear before.

—Babe, that’s not gonna change,— she said simply.

Amelie looked back at her.

—I got married young,— Hailey continued with a small shrug. —And Justin and I still have insane schedules. That part never suddenly becomes easy one day. If anything, life just keeps getting busier.—

Her smile softened into something more sincere now.

—So what’s really the difference between getting married tomorrow or getting married in ten years?—

The question lingered longer than Amelie expected it to.

Not heavily.

Not painfully.

Just enough to settle somewhere quiet inside her chest while the noise of the gala continued around them, chandeliers glowing above tables overflowing with flowers and crystal, conversations folding into laughter and music somewhere deeper inside the museum halls. She looked down briefly at the untouched champagne in her hand, watching the bubbles rise slowly toward the surface while Hailey’s words circled softly through her head.

What really was the difference?

Five years.

Ten years.

The schedules would still exist. The flights. The rehearsals. The races. The weeks apart followed by nights clinging to each other like they had to make up for lost time before being pulled away again. None of that was magically going to disappear one day because the timing finally became “perfect.”

Perfect didn’t really exist for people like them.

Amelie opened her mouth slightly, ready to answer even though she still wasn’t fully sure what the answer actually was, but before she could, warmth suddenly pressed against her back.

Two arms slid carefully around her waist from behind, familiar and heavy in that loose way that immediately told her exactly how much champagne and whiskey Lando had consumed while she had been performing. His body folded naturally against hers, chest warm against the exposed back of her gown as his head dipped toward her shoulder, lips brushing softly against her skin just below her ear.

—There she is,— he murmured lowly, voice roughened slightly by alcohol and exhaustion and affection all tangled together.

The scent of expensive cologne mixed unmistakably now with liquor, warm and sweet against her skin, and despite herself she smiled instantly, her body relaxing back into him on pure instinct alone.

His lips pressed another lazy kiss against her shoulder.

—You were so good up there,— he added softer this time, almost like he was saying it more to himself than anyone else.

Amelie tilted her head slightly toward him, smiling helplessly now as one of her hands came up to rest lightly over his forearm where it crossed her waist. —Looks like someone had fun while I was gone,— she teased gently, turning her face just enough to glance back at him from the corner of her eye.

Lando only hummed against her shoulder, entirely unashamed. —You told me to,— he replied simply.

Hailey watched the entire interaction with the kind of expression people got when witnessing something so obviously intimate it almost felt invasive to stand near it, though amusement still danced in her eyes.

Amelie rolled her eyes fondly before turning her head enough to kiss him softly.

It was meant to be brief.

Just quick affection.

A small public kiss.

But Lando followed it immediately the second she pulled away, chasing another one lazily like he physically couldn’t help himself now that he had her attention, his grip around her waist tightening slightly as he smiled against her mouth.

—Hi,— he murmured belatedly, clearly deciding greetings came after kissing apparently.

She laughed quietly against his lips. —Hi.—

His chin rested briefly against her shoulder afterward, eyes half-lidded and softer now than they had been all weekend, the sharp edges of Miami finally dulled beneath alcohol and exhaustion and her presence beside him. From this close she could see the flush high on his cheeks, the slight heaviness in his posture that only appeared when he’d crossed from tipsy into genuinely drunk, though he still held onto her carefully, consciously mindful of the gown and the film strips layered through it.

Hailey crossed her arms lightly, smiling wider now. —Okay, yeah. Never mind. He’s obsessed with you.—

Lando lifted his head just enough to look at her with complete seriousness despite the alcohol. —Obviously,— he answered like it was the dumbest observation in the world.

Amelie actually laughed at that, full and genuine now, her hand sliding up to brush lightly through the curls at the back of his neck while he immediately leaned into the touch without thinking.

Hailey pointed at him dramatically. —See? This is what I’m talking about.—

Lando blinked slowly. —What are we talking about?—

—Marriage,— Hailey replied bluntly.

Amelie immediately closed her eyes for one second in quiet embarrassment.

Lando, meanwhile, looked completely unfazed.

Actually worse than unfazed.

Interested.

His brows lifted slightly before he looked down toward Amelie, still tucked comfortably against him. —Oh?—

—Stop,— she muttered immediately, lightly elbowing him in the ribs.

He laughed softly under his breath, the sound warm against her shoulder as his grip around her waist tightened again just slightly.

—No, genuinely,— Hailey continued, now fully entertained by both of them. —I asked what was stopping you two and apparently the answer is schedules.—

Lando let out a quiet scoff through his nose. —That’s a terrible excuse.—

Amelie turned her head sharply toward him. —Excuse me?—

He only smiled sleepily at her, completely unbothered. —You think if we’re still doing this in ten years our schedules are suddenly gonna be normal?—

Her mouth opened slightly before closing again because annoyingly—deeply annoyingly—he sounded far too similar to Hailey.

—You’re drunk,— she informed him instead.

—Correct,— he nodded immediately.

Hailey burst into laughter while Lando looked entirely too pleased with himself for someone currently half-hanging off his girlfriend in the middle of the Met Gala.

Amelie shook her head softly, trying to hide her smile as she looked back down at the champagne glass in her hand, though now the nervousness sitting in her chest felt different somehow. Smaller.

Less frightening.

Lando’s thumb moved absentmindedly against her waist beneath the delicate layers of the gown while his attention drifted between her and Hailey’s conversation, still lazily attached to her like he had no intention of letting go anytime soon, and maybe that was the thing.

Maybe he never really had.

--------------

liked by ameliedayman, quadrant, and others

lando.jpg: some things deserve film

View all 1,341 comments

ameliedayman: oh you’re INSANE actually 😭 → lando.jpg: worth it → fanameliee: STOP THIS IS SO ROMANTIC

maxfewtrell: bro thinks he’s a director now → lando.jpg: i am → quadrant: cinema

carlossainz55: these are beautiful mate → lando.jpg: thank you 🫡 → fanpageamelie: CARLOS APPROVED

oscarpiastri: not bad → lando.jpg: highest praise possible → papayaprincess: oscar giving compliments omg

alex_albon: alright mr artist → lando.jpg: respect the vision → lilymhe: he cooked actually

ciscanorris1: my favorite account 🤍 → lando.jpg: favorite subject helped → softamelie: SCREAMING

flo_norris_showjumping: these belong in a museum → ameliedayman: stop i’ll cry → fanameliee: TOO LATE I’M ALREADY CRYING

carmenmmundt: okay photographerrrrr → lando.jpg: learning from the best → georgefan44: this is cute wait

lilymhe: these are CRAZY good

georgerussell63: better than your driving → lando.jpg: unnecessary → fanameliee: GEORGE 😭

papayagirl: “some things deserve film” HE’S IN LOVE BAD 😭 → loveroflan: down catastrophically → lanmeliehub: no recovery possible

ameliecore: the way he photographs her… → goldenhouramelie: like she’s art → softamelie: because she is

charles_leclerc: alright these are actually very cool → lando.jpg: thank you charles → fanameliee: rare wholesome interaction 😭

arthur_leclerc: pinterest boyfriend final boss → alexandramalenaleclerc: literally → lando.jpg: i’ll take it

pierregasly: not enough photos of yourself mate → lando.jpg: intentional actually → papayaprincess: HE ONLY HAS EYES FOR HER 😭

fanameliee: yeah no these are boyfriend photos not paparazzi pics → cherryvibes: exactly

sunsetamelie: the black and white one just changed my life → goldenhouramelie: genuinely breathtaking → softclouds: unreal

rebeccadonaldson: these feel like old hollywood ✨ → ameliedayman: exactly what we wanted 🥹 → softamelie: THEY HAD A VISION

kikagomes: okayyyy cinematic

lanfan44: he took these like he was in a period drama 😭 → papayaprincess: jane austen man

ameliecentral: this man got a photography account just to post her btw → cherryvibes: and i support him → dreamygirlie: fully

fanpageamelie: not the MET carpet becoming a couple photoshoot 😭

madelyncline: excuse me????? → ameliedayman: RIGHT???? → goldenhouramelie: everyone losing it 😭

coreyfogelmanis: this belongs in a gallery somewhere → lando.jpg: working on it → dreamygirlie: stopppp

papayadreams: the caption being FILM when her dress was made of film strips 😭 → loveroflan: OH MY GOD → lanmeliehub: wait that’s insane

amelievibes: he sees her like she hung the moon i’m sick → cherryvibes: exactly this

fanameliee: not him understanding the MET theme better than half the celebrities there 😭 → cherryvibes: EXACTLY → dreamygirlie: committed to the bit

papayagirl: the way every photo looks so soft and intimate 🥹 → loveroflan: he photographs her like he loves her → lanmeliehub: because he DOES

ameliecore: boyfriend camera syndrome hit him BAD → goldenhouramelie: terminal case

sunsetamelie: i just know she cried when she saw these → goldenhouramelie: immediately → softclouds: i would too

lanfan44: “some things deserve film” and the dress being made of film strips… cinema

ameliecentral: the lighting, the framing, the DETAILS??? → cherryvibes: he locked in → dreamygirlie: genuinely talented

fanpageamelie: this account started as photography and became a public declaration of love 😭 → goldenhouramelie: and i support it

papayadreams: he took these like he couldn’t believe she was real → loveroflan: EXACTLY THIS

--------------

The suite door barely had time to fully swing open before Alex and Corey were already half-carrying, half-dragging Lando through it, his weight leaning dramatically between them in a way that would’ve looked concerning if he wasn’t grinning lazily at absolutely nothing. The polished calm and elegance from the carpet earlier had dissolved somewhere between champagne number three and whatever Marcello had convinced him to drink afterward, leaving behind a version of Lando that was flushed, exhausted, overdressed, and very clearly taking her earlier you should have fun tonight comment far too seriously.

—Careful,— Amelie whispered automatically as they maneuvered him through the entryway, quickly stepping back to hold the door wider while Charlie trotted excitedly around everyone’s legs like this was the best possible ending to his evening.

—Mate, I am being careful,— Alex muttered under his breath, adjusting his grip around Lando’s arm before shooting Amelie an amused look. —He’s the one trying to walk sideways.—

—I’m not,— Lando protested immediately, though the words blurred together slightly as he lifted his head with the determination of someone who thought he sounded significantly more sober than he actually did. —I’m literally fine.—

Corey snorted softly. —You almost thanked the elevator.—

—I did thank the elevator,— Lando corrected with complete seriousness, like that somehow proved his point instead of destroying it further.

Amelie bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing too hard, one hand covering part of her mouth as she shook her head and started guiding them toward the bedroom. The exhaustion from the night still sat heavy in her bones, makeup beginning to feel tight against her skin now after hours beneath lights and cameras and performing, but watching him like this softened something inside her immediately, the edges of the long day blurring into something lighter.

By the time they reached the bedroom, Lando had given up pretending he could walk independently and practically collapsed onto the mattress the second Alex and Corey finally released him. He bounced slightly against the expensive hotel bedding before groaning dramatically into the pillows, one arm thrown over his face while his tie hung crookedly around his neck.

—Oh my God,— Amelie murmured through a laugh, moving toward him immediately. —You’re impossible.—

—He’s gone,— Corey informed her casually while beginning to tug Lando’s shoes off. —Mentally. Spiritually. Completely gone.—

Lando pointed vaguely upward without opening his eyes. —That’s rude.—

Alex ignored him entirely while helping pull off his jacket, tossing it carefully over the chair nearby before straightening back up with a sigh. —At least he made it through the event before becoming a disaster.—

—I heard that,— Lando mumbled into the mattress.

Amelie smiled helplessly, reaching down to brush his curls away from his forehead while he immediately leaned into the touch on instinct, eyes still closed.

The sight softened all three of them for a second.

Because beneath the drunkenness and exhaustion and chaos of the night, there was still something quietly intimate about the way he relaxed the second she touched him, like his body knew her before his brain could catch up.

Eventually Alex straightened fully, patting Lando’s shoulder once. —Alright. He’s alive. Our work here is done.—

Corey nodded in agreement before both of them started backing toward the door quietly, careful not to make too much noise now that the room had settled into something calmer.

Amelie followed them out, pulling the bedroom door mostly closed behind her once they stepped back into the suite’s living area, Charlie immediately abandoning his spot near the bed to trot after her again.

—Thank you,— she whispered sincerely once they reached the entryway.

Alex leaned down first, pressing a quick kiss to her cheek warmly. —Anytime.—

—Good luck,— Corey added with poorly hidden amusement before doing the same.

She rolled her eyes affectionately. —Shut up.—

Their quiet laughter followed them out into the hallway, and the second the suite door clicked shut behind them, the silence settled differently now. Softer. More private.

Charlie stayed glued to her heels as she crossed the suite slowly toward the kitchen area, finally kicking off her own heels with a relieved sigh before reaching for a glass. The cold water filled quietly while she grabbed painkillers from her bag nearby out of pure habit, already knowing tomorrow morning would hit him like a truck.

The city outside glittered through the windows, New York still awake beneath them despite the late hour, but inside the suite everything had finally slowed down.

She carried the glass and pills carefully into the bedroom, setting both gently onto his nightstand before glancing toward the bed.

The bedroom lights had been dimmed sometime while they were gone, leaving the room washed in the soft amber glow from the city outside instead, New York flickering endlessly through the floor-to-ceiling windows while rain still clung faintly to the glass from earlier. Lando hadn’t moved much from where they had left him, sprawled diagonally across the bed in complete exhaustion, one arm still half-thrown over the pillow beside him, curls a mess against the sheets. The expensive black dress shirt he still wore had come untucked slightly, the first few buttons open now, and his breathing had finally slowed into something calmer compared to the chaotic energy from half an hour earlier.

Amelie stood there quietly for a moment after setting the water and pills down, just looking at him.

There was something impossibly soft about him like this.

Not the world champion version everyone saw. Not the polished version from the carpet or the teasing one from interviews or the frustrated one from the paddock after bad races.

Just him. Completely unaware of how loved he looked.

A tiny smile pulled at her mouth before she finally disappeared into the bathroom attached to the suite, the familiar process of taking everything off beginning slowly after what felt like the longest day imaginable. The rhinestones and film strips from the gown had been carefully removed hours ago by a small army of stylists, but traces of the night still clung to her skin—glitter dusting faintly across her collarbones, hairspray stiffening the edges of her curls, makeup sitting heavy beneath tired eyes. Piece by piece she stripped the Met Gala away until all that remained was herself again, wrapped eventually in one of Lando’s oversized shirts and soft shorts, her face bare, exhaustion finally catching up to her now that the adrenaline had worn off.

When she stepped back into the bedroom, Charlie immediately lifted his head from the rug before recognizing bedtime mode and sighing dramatically, circling once in his own little bed near the window before collapsing into it with the seriousness of someone ending a very long shift.

Amelie laughed softly under her breath before climbing carefully into bed beside Lando, the mattress dipping slightly beneath her weight.

The movement stirred him almost immediately.

Slowly, lazily, he turned his head toward her, blinking his eyes open through the haze of exhaustion and alcohol until they finally found her in the dim light.

—Hi,— she whispered softly.

Lando made a quiet sound somewhere between a hum and a sigh, his face relaxing the second he saw her there beside him. His eyes were still heavy, unfocused slightly at the edges, but he shifted automatically toward her anyway like his body worked on instinct when it came to her.

Her hand slid gently into his curls, fingers combing slowly through the soft mess of them, scratching lightly against his scalp the way he loved most, and he closed his eyes immediately with another quiet exhale, the tension visibly leaving his body inch by inch beneath her touch.

For a minute neither of them spoke.

The room stayed wrapped in soft silence, broken only by distant city noise and Charlie’s occasional sleepy snore from across the room.

Eventually Lando opened his eyes again slightly, watching her through heavy lashes. —You okay?— he murmured quietly, voice rough with sleep and alcohol.

Amelie’s expression softened instantly at the question, her fingers slowing slightly in his curls as she looked down at him properly, the dim light catching in the tiredness beneath her eyes now that the glamour and adrenaline of the night had finally worn away. The oversized shirt she wore had slipped slightly off one shoulder when she settled into bed, and she pulled the blanket a little higher over herself absentmindedly before brushing her thumb lightly against his temple.

—Yeah,— she answered quietly. —I’m okay.—

Lando studied her for another second like he was trying to decide if he believed her completely, his gaze still heavy with exhaustion but clearer now than before, the haze of alcohol softened into something quieter. The city glowed faintly behind her through the windows, outlining her in soft gold and silver light, and something about the sight made his chest ache in that familiar way it always did when he looked at her too long.

Her fingers continued moving slowly through his hair before she spoke again, more carefully this time.

—About earlier… with Hailey,— she murmured.

His brows lifted faintly at that, curiosity flickering across his face despite how tired he was. —Mm?—

Amelie hesitated for the briefest second, her gaze dropping to the sheets between them before returning to him again. The conversation from downstairs still lingered somewhere in her chest, tangled up with champagne bubbles and the sight of him across the room laughing with his friends like she was the safest thing in his universe.

—You asked if I was okay,— she started softly. —And I just… don’t want you thinking I don’t wanna marry you or something because of what I said.—

The words landed gently in the quiet room.

Lando didn’t interrupt her.

Didn’t joke.

Didn’t immediately brush it off.

He just watched her carefully while she spoke, his head still resting against the pillow beside her thigh.

Amelie let out the tiniest breath through her nose before continuing, her fingers absentmindedly curling around one of his curls. —I think maybe before… I was scared of it because everything in our lives already moves so fast all the time. And I kept thinking if we added one more thing to it, maybe it would just become harder.— Her mouth curved faintly, almost embarrassed by her own honesty now. —But I don’t think it’s that I don’t want it. I think maybe I just didn’t want it yet.—

Silence settled softly between them again.

Not uncomfortable.

Just full.

Lando’s eyes stayed fixed on her face, something gentler unfolding there slowly the longer she talked, the sharpness he had carried since Miami finally nowhere to be found anymore. His hand slid lazily across the mattress until his fingers brushed against her leg beneath the blanket.

—Okay,— he murmured quietly after a moment.

Amelie blinked down at him. —Okay?—

A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, sleepy and crooked and impossibly soft. —Yeah. Okay.— His thumb traced absentmindedly against the blanket. —I mean… not now is fine.—

Her chest tightened painfully at how easy he made it sound.

Like there was no pressure.

No expectation.

Just certainty.

Lando shifted slightly closer toward her then, lifting himself enough to press a slow kiss against her mouth, lingering there lazily like he had nowhere else to be anymore. The kiss tasted faintly like champagne and mint and exhaustion, and Amelie melted into it immediately, one hand slipping from his hair to cup lightly against his jaw.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested briefly against hers.

—Besides,— he mumbled sleepily, voice quieter now, teasing threading faintly through it again, —we could basically be engaged already if you think about it.—

Amelie laughed softly under her breath. —Oh my God.—

—No seriously,— he insisted, eyes barely open now as he shifted onto one elbow with sudden drunken determination. —We’re basically married anyway. You steal all my hoodies. Charlie likes you more than me. You boss me around constantly.—

—I do not boss you around constantly.—

Lando gave her a look.

She immediately started laughing harder.

—Okay, maybe sometimes,— she admitted through a grin.

—Exactly.— He nodded once like he had won something important before his attention suddenly drifted toward the nightstand beside him. His brows furrowed in concentration for a second before he leaned over clumsily, reaching toward the remains of the room service tray still sitting nearby from earlier.

His fingers fumbled clumsily through the tray for a second before finally grabbing one of the folded dinner napkins that had been abandoned beside the untouched dessert plates, his concentration suddenly absurdly serious for someone who could barely keep his eyes open. Amelie watched him with growing amusement as he carefully tore off a thin strip from the edge of it, the paper ripping unevenly beneath his hands while he squinted down at it like he was working through an engineering problem instead of whatever drunk idea had just formed in his head.

—Lando,— she laughed softly, already knowing this was about to become ridiculous. —What are you doing?—

—Shh,— he murmured immediately, the sound oddly offended, like she was interrupting something deeply important. His tongue pressed lightly against the inside of his cheek while he focused, fingers slowly twisting the strip of napkin into a tiny circle with all the determination of a man building something life-changing instead of a paper disaster at two in the morning.

The room felt impossibly soft around them, wrapped in muted city light and the quiet exhaustion that always came after nights too full of emotion. Outside, New York still glowed endlessly awake beneath the rain-slick streets, but inside the suite everything had narrowed into this tiny little bubble of warmth and sleepiness and honesty that only seemed to exist when it was just the two of them. Charlie sighed heavily from his bed near the window, fully asleep now, while Lando finally looked up with the expression of someone extremely proud of himself.

—There,— he announced quietly.

Amelie bit her lip immediately to stop herself from laughing too hard as he reached for her hand beneath the blankets, carefully taking it into his own with an almost surprising gentleness despite the alcohol still clouding his movements. His fingers were warm against hers, slightly rough from years behind steering wheels and gloves and endless racing weekends, and her chest tightened unexpectedly at how careful he suddenly became.

The tiny paper circle slid onto her finger crookedly, barely surviving the journey before he leaned back again to admire it with completely genuine satisfaction.

—Perfect,— he murmured sleepily.

Amelie stared down at the pathetic little napkin ring sitting loosely against her finger before finally breaking into quiet laughter, the sound soft and helpless in the dark room. —Oh my God,— she whispered, shaking her head while looking back at him. —This is the worst ring I’ve ever seen.—

—Rude,— he mumbled instantly, already settling back against the pillows again. —That’s custom made.—

Her heart hurt.

Actually hurt.

Because he looked so impossibly sincere about it despite being drunk out of his mind, his eyes already half-closing again while she kept staring at the paper ring on her hand like somehow it carried more weight than it should’ve.

Lando turned slightly onto his side afterward, one arm lazily slipping around her waist beneath the blankets while exhaustion dragged at him harder now, but before sleep could fully pull him under again, his voice broke through the quiet one last time.

—Doesn’t matter though,— he murmured softly.

Amelie looked down at him immediately.

His eyes stayed closed now, lashes resting heavily against flushed cheeks, curls falling messily across his forehead while his thumb moved absentmindedly against her hip beneath the oversized shirt she wore.

—If you don’t think it should happen now… that’s okay,— he continued quietly, words slower now but somehow more honest because of it. —But the second you change your mind, I’m not waiting anymore.—

Her breath caught.

Lando’s face pressed slightly closer against her stomach as he kept talking, his voice rough with sleep and champagne and vulnerability he probably wouldn’t even fully remember tomorrow morning.

—I’ll put a ring on that pretty finger so fast,— he mumbled softly, his hand lazily lifting hers slightly beneath the blankets like he needed to feel it there again. —The biggest one you’ve ever seen too. Massive. Obnoxious probably.—

A watery laugh almost escaped her at that, but it got trapped somewhere painfully behind her ribs instead.

Because suddenly her entire chest felt too full.

Too tight.

Too warm.

Fear curled there immediately beside the excitement, impossible to separate one from the other anymore, both emotions wrapping around each other until she couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began. The thought of forever with him no longer scared her in the same way it used to, which somehow terrified her even more. Somewhere along the line, without noticing exactly when it happened, Lando had stopped feeling like a beautiful possibility and started feeling inevitable.

Like home.

Like certainty.

Like something she physically couldn’t imagine losing anymore.

Her fingers trembled slightly where they rested against the back of his neck, the stupid paper ring still looped around her finger beneath the blankets while she looked down at him in the dim New York light. He was already drifting now, breathing evening out slowly against her, completely unaware of the effect his words had just left behind inside her chest.

Amelie swallowed hard, blinking quickly toward the ceiling for a second before finally curling closer against him, pressing her face softly into his curls while holding him tighter.

She still didn’t know if the ache spreading through her heart was panic or happiness.

Maybe it was both.

Maybe loving someone enough to imagine forever always felt a little bit like standing too close to the edge of something enormous.