TireTrashDiaries

𝓐𝓾𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓻’𝓼 𝓘𝓷𝓽𝓻𝓸𝓭𝓾𝓬𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷:

name: lia

age: 25

pronouns: she/her

occupation: former emergency department nurse. now med-surg ☺️

fav artists: metallica, mcr, faouzia, and txt 💕

little note: hi! welcome to my world ♡ love writing so, here i am ◡̈ i only write mv3, ln1, and op81 fics! requests are finally open! stay safe and enjoy life ♡

Max Verstappen

- Since Bahrain 2021 (complete) (MV3 x OC)

- 1.2 Million Euros and a Problem (complete) (MV3 x OC)

- I Want That One! (complete) (MV3 x OC)

Lando Norris

- Our Kids Will Have Norris Curls (complete) (LN1 x OC)

- Stars As Our Witness (complete) (LN1 x OC)

- Until You Wake (complete) (LN1 x OC)

- Pine Cone and Ramen Head (complete) (LN1 x OC)

- When We Were Eighteen (complete) (LN1 x OC)

- The Medic-Nurse at Turn One (complete) (LN1 x OC)

Oscar Piastri

- The Freakiest Friday (complete) (OP81 x OC)

The sun hit the pit straight at an exact angle as it rose, lighting the track. Monza is waking up. Stacey Montague sat at a bench by the pit exit watching everything. Sipping her cold brew, she sighed contentedly. If she wasn’t a Volunteer Medic for the Monza GP this year, she would never have gotten the chance to see this. The tickets are too expensive for her.

It’s the first day of the race weekend and she had time before the debrief with the other Volunteer Medics. She adjusted her polo again and tied up her hair with a claw clip. She couldn’t help but stare at the pit straight, thinking. Mostly about how much her life had changed these past few years after running away from them.

Stacey closed her eyes as she finally felt the sun hitting her face, basking in its warmth. She sighed softly as a single tear slipped out of her eye. Deftly wiping it away, she looked down at her hands. The hands who had suffered so much trauma since she was a child.

The hands that had held many who were on their final breaths and the hands who had tried her very best to help anyone who needed it. But there’s also the late nights, overtime, lack of work-life balance, and so much more.

But she can’t help but ask herself:

There must be more than this life.

—

After the medical debrief with the FIA Medical Team and Volunteer Medics, Stacey stepped out of the room, ready to do inventory for one of the medical tents she would be manning with her colleague, Joseph. Joseph is a quiet guy in his 20s, so Stacey figured they just have to communicate about work and nothing else. Perfect for her, really.

Their medical tent is set up in the middle of the paddock. It’s mostly meant for any garage related incidents for the team. It’s the halfway point to the actual Medical Center and the only reason why they’re here is because the Medical Center gets overwhelmed at times.

The best part about working at that specific medical tent is that she could go through the paddock. She’s just quietly observing it as the two of them walk down, the paddock still waking up with the sounds of wheel guns and people chattering in the garages. She has been watching Formula 1 since she was 15. Being 25 now, she’s just proud of her younger self for being able to see all this.

The moment they reached the tent, they slowly set it up. After a brief discussion, they decided to split the tent into two assessment areas. Since both of them would be handling triage and assessments, having their own space would make things easier. Stacey took one table and Joseph the other. Calmly setting every bandage, gauze, saline or chlorhexidine for wounds, and many more items, Stacey’s lips tugged into a small smile.

She turned on her iPad that will be used for charting and adjusted the Blood Pressure cuff and machine. Arms crossed, she took a look at the setup and gave a satisfied nod. Turning on the industrial fan for their tent, Stacey plopped on her chair by the table and looked over at Joseph. He’s just finishing setting up and Stacey looked away.

Now, they wait.

—

Lando was at the garage, slowly suiting up for FP1. While pulling on his helmet, the edge of the visor mechanism caught the back of his hand—causing a cut. He winced quietly and sucked on it on instinct. His race engineer, Will, simply stared at it.

“Again? Really, Lando?” The older man deadpanned.

Lando smiled sheepishly.

“You have so many scrapes already.” He sighed tiredly. “Medical tent, now.” Will muttered, rubbing his eyes.

Lando blinked.

“There’s a medical tent?”

“Yeah. They just set it up for Monza. Apparently the organisers provided a medical tent for garage related incidents.” Will explained simply as he shifted his focus back to the telemetry.

Lando nodded once and left the McLaren garage.

He walked through the paddock and saw a green tent he had never seen before.

That must be it.

As he approached, he took a look at the tent. It’s like a mini clinic. But with the heat. So there’s a huge fan blasting at everyone. He saw a man and a woman in volunteer medic polo. The man was with another patient and the woman was looking down on her lap, typing something into the iPad.

He approached the tent slowly—unsure.

“Uh… hi. Is this the medical tent?” He asked awkwardly. The woman’s head snapped up.

Lando blinked.

Oh.

Jesus, she’s beautiful.

—

Stacey looked up, and saw Lando Norris holding his slightly bleeding left hand. As she looked at it, she noted that it was a small laceration.

“Steri-Strips,” she muttered to herself.

Lando blinked.

“Sorry?”

“Oh. I was just talking to myself. You need Steri-Strips. For your cut.” She explained calmly, gesturing at him to take a seat by her table.

“How did you sustain this injury?” She asked him calmly whilst preparing the blood pressure cuff.

“Uhm. The visor mechanism. Caught my hand.” He answered robotically, eyes glued to her.

“Looks like it happens often,” she said kindly, gesturing to his minor scars.

Lando chuckled softly and nodded.

“It does.”

She quickly checked his vital signs and Lando went rigid the second her hands brushed against his bicep with the blood pressure cuff.

Stacey blinked.

“Does it… hurt?” She asked him professionally—not wanting to judge this young man’s aversion.

Lando shook his head quickly.

“No! No.” He cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Please, just do your thing,” he muttered—mentally punching himself.

Stacey nodded once and began working.

She held her hand out.

Lando swallowed thickly.

Right. She has to check my cut.

He mechanically gave her his injured hand. She began gently cleaning his wound with saline and gauze, lightly dabbing it. After cleaning the wound, she applied a thin layer of antibacterial ointment around the area, secured the laceration with Steri-Strips, then covered it with gauze and a light bandage. Occasionally she would glance up to see his facial expression and continued working.

Lando kept a neutral face the whole time—and failed.

He’s blushing.

He thanked every single deity that she’s focused on her job and didn’t entirely notice it. She’s so professional. As she finished wrapping up his hand, she threw away her gloves and did a quick hand-rub with the sanitiser.

“All done,” she chirped simply. “Try to keep the wound dry. It might open up when you’re driving but you can always just come back to us. Or the medical center.”

Lando swallowed hard.

“Right. Yeah, I will absolutely do that.”

Stacey blinked.

“You want to… open up the wound?”

Lando’s eyes widened.

“Yes! I mean, no! That’s crazy!” He chuckled awkwardly—rubbing the back of his neck. He began mentally hitting himself in the head.

What the fuck was that?!

He cleared his throat again.

“I meant, I will try my best to not open up the wound.” He said solemnly—avoiding eye contact with her. Stacey nodded—satisfied.

“Good.”

Lando stayed seated, staring at her. Stacey looked around.

“Uh… do you need anything else?” She asked confusedly.

He mechanically gave Stacey his right hand. She stared at it in bewilderment.

“Is it… injured?”

Lando shook his head, not trusting himself to speak at the moment.

He simply took a pen from her table and gave it to her.

Stacey frowned.

“Do you… want me to write down the wound care instructions?”

“No.” Lando croaked.

“Please…” He took a deep breath, mustering every courage in him. “Write your phone number.”

Stacey stared at him as though he grew two heads.

“Excuse me?”

—

Lando smiled brightly as he walked away from her tent—with her number. He kept staring at it as he went back into the garage. He greeted Oscar casually, but was unable to hide the blush in his cheeks.

“Wow. What happened to you?” Oscar looked at his bandaged hand.

“Huh? Oh yeah. Visor mechanism.” He tried to answer breezily.

Oscar stared at him.

“So why are you blushing, mate?”

Lando’s hand darted straight to his warm face—and winced.

Right.

That’s my injured hand.

That she treated.

And then gave her number.

He switched hands and blushed even deeper.

Oscar smirked knowingly.

“So, what’s her name?”

“Huh?”

“The medic who treated you.”

“How did you know it was a woman? It could be a man,” Lando said defensively. Oscar put his hands up in defense.

“Okay then. What was their name?”

Lando went silent and looked down. He fidgeted with his race suit and sighed.

“Stacey.”

“Ah… Stacey. She’s pretty?”

Lando’s head snapped up.

He looked away quietly before mumbling, “Yeah.”

Oscar chuckled lowly and pointed to the numbers on his right hand.

“That’s her number?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice.”

—

Lando tried texting her before Qualifying started but the message kept failing. His phone simply refused to send it. He shoved his phone towards Oscar’s face and the Australian flinched.

“Why is the message not being sent out?” Lando demanded—having half a mind to buy a new phone. Oscar took his phone from him and looked at the screen.

As Oscar pressed his lips together, Lando felt a certain gnawing feeling in his stomach.

“Did she… give me a fake number?” He whispered quietly—ashamed.

Oscar looked at his teammate and sighed deeply.

“Yeah, mate. Looks like she did.”

—

After qualifying, Lando went out of his car feeling a newfound confidence. He didn’t even bother focusing on the debrief. He just wants to find her.

He quickly removed his bandage and began picking at the strips she applied. He winced as he felt his wound opening up.

Yeah.

That’ll do.

As he left the garage with Will yelling for him, he went straight to the green tent.

As he approached, he saw her. She was tending to an engineer with what seems to be a broken finger. As she gently held the woman’s hand and wrapped a splint, Lando’s heart stuttered silently.

She spoke so delicately to the engineer, making sure that she’s genuinely okay. Lando huffed a breath and took a step forward.

And another.

As he mechanically walked to the tent, she glanced up just as she was teaching the engineer discharge care.

“Okay, so you definitely need an x-ray. But for now, keep this finger iced, okay? It looks misshapen but I’m not an x-ray machine.” She chuckled lightly to the engineer.

The engineer smiled softly and nodded.

“Thank you, truly.”

Stacey smiled brightly at her.

“Any time. Come back if you need anything else.”

The engineer thanked her again and walked away. Lando finally stepped up. Stacey glanced at him and looked at the wound dressing she did to him. It looked bad. As though a dog dug through her perfect dressing and ate the Steri-strips.

She gaped.

“Wha—what happened to it?”

“It… came loose?”

Stacey blinked.

“How even?” She whispered quietly to herself, gesturing at him to sit down.

As she began redoing his wound dressing, Lando couldn’t hide the hurt in his chest anymore.

“Why did you give me a fake number?” He asked quietly, looking at her. Stacey’s hands on the bandage paused.

As she looked up at him, she felt a tug in her chest to see him so wounded.

“It… didn’t seem professional,” she answered honestly as she began wrapping his hand with that gentle touch.

Lando sighed quietly.

Stacey continued.

“I’m not exactly… a glamorous person. I’m a nurse, I don’t do… modelling.”

Lando frowned at her words.

“What does that have anything to do with—“

“It has everything to do with what you’re feeling.” She answered quickly—stretching the bandage a little tight. Lando winced.

“I’m sorry.” She quickly loosened it. Lando took a deep breath.

“I… I don’t care about models,” he said softly, looking intently into her eyes. Stacey blinked as he continued talking.

“Yeah, I used to date them but… none of them made me feel like this.”

“Like what?” Stacey whispered—hands still bandaging.

“Like I’m… the luckiest guy in the world.”

Stacey stared at him.

“We just met.”

Lando sighed audibly.

“I know!” He exclaimed softly, running hand through his curls.

“It’s crazy, believe me I know that. But, I can’t…”

“Lando.”

His head snapped up.

“It’s just an infatuation. You’ll forget about me the next time a pretty one comes along.”

Lando’s frown deepened.

“Is that how low you think of me?” His voice was full of hurt as he processed her words.

Stacey closed her eyes briefly.

“No, but I know how people think.” She said quietly, unable to look at him this time.

Lando sat with it.

As realisation dawned on him, he took another deep breath.

“I’m not like that. If you would give me a chance, I’d love to prove it to you.” He said sincerely, as she finished with his wound dressing.

Stacey pressed her lips together as she stared at him.

For a long time.

Exhaling, she took out her hand and Lando quickly gave her his phone.

She punched in her real numbers and a smile cracked across his face.

“This is… your real number?” He asked shyly, holding his phone as though it’s a national artefact.

Stacey nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

Stacey smiled softly at his exuberant smile and chuckled softly.

“You’re… persistent.”

Lando laughed loudly, garnering stares from people walking by.

“Oh. There’s more where this came from.”

“I’m sure.” She smiled kindly at him.

—

The next day, Stacey was back at the tent, setting everything up. Lando practically texted her the second he left the tent yesterday. As she was stocking up on the gauzes, she heard a familiar voice.

“Good morning.” He said brightly, handing over a cup of coffee to her.

Stacey blinked.

Iced Americano.

“How… how did you know my usual?” She asked quietly, taking the coffee from him. Lando shrugged.

“I have my ways.”

Stacey gasped.

“Are you… a stalker?” She whispered dramatically. Lando’s hand flew to his chest.

“Excuse me, ma’am! I am not a stalker!” He exclaimed softly as he chuckled.

“Fine. How did you know then?”

“I asked Joseph.” He said simply, sipping on his own coffee.

Stacey’s eyes darted straight to her colleague—who was pretending to not hear or admit to anything.

“Right.”

She couldn’t help but smile at Lando’s antics. As she sipped on her coffee, he plopped down on the chair by her table.

“So… what do you usually do if you’re not volunteering?” He asked curiously. Stacey hummed for a while.

“I’m in between jobs at the moment,” she answered honestly. “I used to be an Emergency Nurse for five years and then… I decided to quit.”

“Why did you quit?” He asked delicately. Stacey took a deep breath.

“It gets… too much sometimes. I love the adrenaline, yes. But too much of it… Plus, I’m looking for a good environment and there's none at the moment.”

Lando looked around.

“Do you enjoy this one?” He asked her quietly. Stacey hummed—thinking.

“Yeah. I don’t mind this volunteer job. It’s fun and the environment is good.”

Lando nodded, understanding.

“I wish I could understand you,” he whispered softly, looking into her eyes. “I get adrenaline from racing but I’m lucky to not experience the burn out.”

As she looked at him, a part of her was expecting him to be lying to her. Just a tiny fraction or a crack in the armour. But the other part of her knows he’s just a genuinely good guy.

There was none.

She huffed softly, mentally stopping herself.

Stop that. He’s not like them.

Lando saw her look. He figured she had something in her past that makes this guarded at times. He kept quiet—not wanting to push her to talk. They only met yesterday.

They sat in that comfortable silence for a moment.

A beat passes.

“What time is your lunch break?” Lando broke the silence as he rubbed the back of his neck. Stacey thought for a moment.

“12pm.”

Lando quickly checked his schedule through his phone. A grin broke out when he found out that he had a free time at 12pm.

“Do you… want to grab lunch together?” He asked quietly as he rubbed his uninjured hand on his team polo. A small smile tugged on her lips as he asked.

“That sounds good,” she said warmly, smiling gently at him. Lando’s heart tugged at the sight of her.

“Brilliant! Any allergies I should know about?”

“Pistachios.” She shuddered slightly. “I could get anaphylactic shock.”

Lando’s eyes widened.

Holy shit.

“Holy shit. Okay, no pistachios for the rest of our lives.” He said quickly—eyes widening as he realised his implication. He looked down to his hands immediately.

Stacey froze.

He… what?

“…Our lives?” She asked softly—not wanting to spook him. Lando swallowed thickly, finally looking up at her. He took shallow breaths as they stared at each other.

“I…” Lando’s mouth went dry. Stacey pressed her lips together as her heart thumped incessantly against her chest.

“Is that… something that scares you?” He asked her quietly. Stacey blinked, looking at this man who just casually said that he wants to spend the rest of his life with her.

“It’s just… we just met,” she answered softly, unable to look him in the eyes.

“That’s not my question,” he replied with a whisper.

Stacey swallowed thickly.

“I… would like to gather more data before I could make an informed decision.” She answered robotically, making Lando’s heart sink a fraction.

He understands.

“I understand. Gather all the data you need.” As he gave her a gentle smile, she returned it with a racing heart.

—

The next day during the race, Stacey was stocking up the tent with more requisites. Her walkie-talkie crackled.

“Medic support needed. Medic support needed. FIA medical team preoccupied. Please respond.” The familiar voice of their leader, Jong, crackled through the walkie. Stacey pressed the button and responded.

“Medic Montague here. Location? Over.”

“McLaren garage. A mechanic and a wheel gun. Potential broken finger. Over.”

“On my way. Over and out.” She answered swiftly—grabbing the go-bag they had prepared and waved goodbye to Joseph before running to the McLaren garage. She adjusted the sling of her go-bag and re-tied her hair. Running her hand through her brunette strands, she began thinking about the case.

The second she stepped into the garage, she spoke with confidence.

“Where’s the patient?” She asked a staff member. The man immediately pointed towards the side of the garage. There sat the injured mechanic, holding onto his hand—surrounded by concerned teammates. As Stacey approached him, she could tell it’s broken. Misshapen bone, odd angle, and bruising.

Everyone parted like the Red Sea the moment they saw her approaching. She crouched down to the floor in front of the mechanic. He looked like a young guy—mid-twenties. He looked away from her, embarrassed.

“Hey, I’m Medic Stacey Montague. What’s your name?” She asked gently—as though not wanting to spook him.

The mechanic swallowed thickly and finally looked at her. He grimaced for a moment before replying.

‘Matteo. My name is Matteo Sinclair.”

Stacey smiled gently at him.

“Nice to meet you, Matteo. Wish it was in a different circumstance.”

He laughed once humourlessly and nodded.

“True. Plus, it hurts a lot.”

Stacey frowned slightly as she took his hand in hers.

“What happened to it?”

“The wheel gun shot back and hit my middle finger.”

Stacey nodded, understanding.

She began explaining the process to him. The splinting and the imaging tests that he definitely needs.

Matteo groaned quietly—throwing his head back. This was not how he wanted to spend the race weekend.

“Sounds good. Thank you, Medic Montague.”

Stacey quickly began splinting Matteo’s finger. As she did that, she remained gentle—surprising Matteo. FIA medics are usually very firm and it could hurt.

“You’re very… gentle.” Matteo made a quiet observation. Stacey looked up and smiled at him.

“Well, my patient is in a lot of pain but it also helps that I’m a nurse. It’s… muscle memory at this point.”

Matteo’s eyebrows shot up.

“Muscle memory? Nah. What you’re doing right now takes skills and patience. Not everyone can be this gentle and patient. That’s why I’m a mechanic—not a nurse or doctor.” Matteo chuckled lightly—taking a jab at himself.

Stacey simply shook her head, chuckling.

—

The moment the race was over, Lando crossed the line P4. Considering the fact that both the McLaren cars are shit all season—he’ll embrace P4. He shook Oscar’s hand and they both walked back to the garage after post-race interviews

Lando frowned the second he saw Matteo’s splinted finger.

“Matteo, what happened to your finger?” He pointed to Matteo’s splinted middle finger. Matteo sighed and explained. Lando’s frown turned into a small smile at hearing Stacey’s name.

“Ah… Stacey Montague?” He asked the young medic rhetorically.

Matteo nodded.

“Do you know her?” Matteo asked.

Lando smirked.

“Yeah. She’s beautiful, right? And extremely good at what she does.” Lando gushed over her quietly.

“Uh… I didn’t really pay attention because I was in pain. But yes, I suppose… she’s pretty.” Matteo answered awkwardly—looking at everyone but Lando. Lando smiled brightly at Matteo—making the younger guy even more confused.

“She’s more than just pretty. She’s beautiful, mate. Like the moon and stars.” Lando whispered the last part quietly, praying no one heard him.

Oh, Oscar heard him for sure.

“Uh huh.” Oscar smirked.

“Shut up.” He snapped—cheeks tinted pink.

—

Six Months Later.

“No. No, absolutely not,” Stacey shook her head incessantly—staring at Lando’s quiet figure. Lando sighed quietly, rubbing his face once.

“It’s just a charity gala in Monaco, Stace.” He muttered quietly.

Stacey covered her face tiredly.

“I know, but… we’ll be going public,” she said exasperatedly—hoping he'd see the bigger picture.

“Does that bother you?”

“Doesn’t it?” Stacey challenged—breathing heavily as she processed his words. Lando pressed his lips together.

“Stace…”

“No.”

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!” He exclaimed softly.

“You were going to say that these past six months we’ve been soft launching on social media and you think it’s a good idea to go public at a gala.”

“… Yeah.”

Stacey groaned—throwing her head back.

“Please, love.” He said quietly, gently holding her hands in his.

“Don’t you think it’s time?” He asked softly—rubbing gentle circles at the back of her hand

Stacey sighed quietly.

“What if they… see me? It’s a public affair.” She whispered quietly, looking down to the floor.

“What if… they try to look for me? Or worse—go public about my past?”

Lando closed his eyes briefly.

He knows what happened to her. Those people made her life a living hell. No child should go through what she went through. She ran away at 18, cut off all contact, and did not look back.

So when they were lying on the couch on that Saturday, and Lando learnt everything—he swore on everything he had to protect her.

He gently lifted her head.

“I’ll be there the whole time. If they try those things, my security will deal with it. They will not touch you.” He said firmly, looking deep into her eyes.

She closed her eyes briefly.

“… I have nothing to wear,” she sighed quietly—slowly relenting.

A small smile tugged on his lips.

“Lucky for you, I know where to find nice gala dresses.”

Stacey stared at him and chuckled lightly.

“Sounds good.”

—

Stacey stared at the woman in the mirror. Her brunette hair is up in a beautiful updo with little rhinestones, the maroon backless dress hugged her figure. She blinked. The woman blinked back.

She looked down at herself. As she sighed quietly, she began thinking about the implications of her and Lando showing up in public. The sheer thought of the lights flashing, people shouting at them—makes a shiver run down her spine. She shut her eyes for a moment—half hitting herself mentally for dating such a famous guy.

Well, love doesn’t discriminate between the sinners and the saints.

It definitely doesn’t help the fact that Lando is the sweetest man she has ever met. She looked down at her hands. Those same hands that treated many people she will never meet again, the ones who hastily packed her bags in the dead of night—and the hands that treated Lando’s hands and many more of his minor injuries.

Her head snapped up the second she heard Lando’s usual soft knock. As he entered their room, his smile brightened. He sighed and gently kissed her neck.

“You look… wow. Beautiful.” He said quietly in reverence—gently holding her hands in his. He laid gentle kisses at the back of her hands. Lando took out his phone. Stacey raised her eyebrows.

“Come on. Let me take a picture of my beautiful girl,” he gently nudged her towards the balcony of their room—overlooking the Monaco harbour. Stacey smiled shyly and slowly walked out.

Lando gently guided her, making her back face the camera—showing off her exposed back. Lando whistled lowly as he took the photo—appreciating the view. As he showed the photo to Stacey, her eyes widened.

“Gosh, I definitely don’t recognise myself,” she laughed once—not believing her eyes. Lando pressed a soft kiss at her temple.

“I do. Makeup or none—you still look as beautiful as you are.” He said delicately—pulling her into his arms.

She laid her head on his chest as she felt that familiar heat creeping up her neck. Lando saw it in seconds—he always does. He chuckled quietly, pressing a soft kiss on the crown of her head.

They stayed like that for a while—watching the setting sun of Monaco. Lando sighed contentedly, inhaling the scent of her shampoo and perfume.

He could stay like this forever.

—

The second they stepped foot into the gala, the cameras began flashing quickly. Stacey took a deep breath and tightened her grip on Lando’s arm. He placed a hand over hers and gave her a steely gaze. He gently kissed her forehead and guided them into the gala. Some of the other drivers gave them knowing looks. They’ve known about Lando and Stacey since the second Lando got her real number. He practically text blasted the Drivers’ Group Chat that same second.

Stacey smiled politely and waved at the drivers and their partners. She exhaled quietly—continued looking at Lando. He was holding onto her hand firmly. It doesn’t hurt, just grounding.

Stacey kept thinking about what Lando told her in the car.

“Just keep your eyes on me, okay? I’m right here.”

Lando guided them to the bar, keeping his hand on her lower back—protective, and slightly possessive. As they ordered their drinks, they stood by the bar—watching the gala.

Everyone was standing around, talking to everyone. Their gaze fell upon Oscar Piastri and Lily Zneimer approaching them with a slightly sly look.

Oscar slapped Lando’s back—making the British guy nearly choke on his whiskey.

“Wow, mate! Finally going public! Nice to see you again, Stacey.” Oscar chuckled easily at Lando’s choking figure. He held a hand out for Stacey to shake. As they shook hands, Lando frowned slightly.

“Okay, that’s enough of a handshake.” He muttered quietly—lightly pulling Stacey away. Stacey closed her eyes briefly. She knows how possessive Lando could get, but didn’t mind it though. Oscar and Lily both coughed—stifling their laughs.

“Not this again, Lan.” She gave him a look. Lando looked away from her gaze. He mumbled something incoherent that almost made Stacey want to smack the back of his head.

“I’m sorry.” He muttered quietly. Stacey rolled her eyes and nudged his shoulder gently with hers. Lando finally looked at her. There was a playful glint in her eyes that made Lando’s heart stutter.

“Come on. Wanna dance for a bit?” She asked him quietly with a slight tint on her cheeks. Lando’s heart jumped at the sight of her blush. He bit his lip shyly and nodded—holding his hand out for her to take.

As they slowly danced, the music wrapped around them like a warm blanket. Lando kept his hand on her waist as they gently swayed to the music. As they rested their foreheads against each other—breathing the other in, Lando leaned in, placing a soft kiss on her lips.

Stacey’s hands went to the back of his neck and pulled him in—deepening the kiss. Lando exhaled against her lips and pulled her closer by her waist. His hand began wandering up her exposed back—making Stacey’s breath hitched.

As the night went on, neither of them knew of the amount of backlash and gossip that they will go through tomorrow. Let them enjoy this moment for now.

—

Stacey stood by the bar, nursing another glass of whiskey while Lando was out socialising with the sponsors. Lando wanted to bring her along but she politely declined—wanting some space to breathe on her own. Lando understood immediately.

Her gaze fell upon three beautiful women walking up to her. Blonde, tall, and dressed to kill. She looked at their predatory stances and straightened up instinctively. They stood a few meters from her and looked at her—sneering.

She forgot how ugly a sneer could look like on beautiful people.

She simply kept her gaze on them—unflinching. She’s 5’4 and those three towers in front of her loomed over her. But, she has faced bigger and taller people. One of them, a blonde with piercing blue eyes, opened her mouth. Stacey took a breath—preparing herself.

“You must be Lando’s.”

Stacey blinked.

Lando’s.

As though she was his property.

“I’m Stacey Montague,” she said calmly, introducing herself to the three vultures. Their sneers instantly flatlined.

“Cute name for a peasant.” One of them snapped, causing Stacey’s gaze to turn sharp. A few people around them began looking at the vultures circling the gazelle.

But Stacey is no gazelle.

“You’re the nurse.” She smirked snidely at Stacey.

The second those words escaped one of the blondies, the other two laughed derisively. Stacey took a deep breath.

“Yes. That’s me.”

“Wow. Can’t believe Lando would stoop so low. Funny. He always dated models.” That woman scoffed—glaring at Stacey.

Something clicked in Stacey’s brain.

Ah. She must have slept with him before. Or worse, he rejected her entirely.

“Well, I suppose Lando wouldn’t stoop as low as sleeping with… you.” Stacey sighed tiredly—sipping her whiskey. The woman’s eye twitched.

“What is that supposed to mean?!” Her voice screeched so loudly that more people were staring at them. Stacey stood even straighter.

“I meant, either you slept with him or worse, he rejected you. And I suppose my boyfriend wouldn’t stoop so low to sleep with a model wearing…fake Manolo Blahniks.”

The other two gasped—staring at the blonde’s heels. The gemstones are of a different shade and it was a little… off.

“These are authentic!”

“Is that what the street vendor told you?” Stacey smirked at the woman’s reddening face.

The woman gasped quietly—ashamed. She stood closer to Stacey, making the brunette smell the impossibly overpowering perfume.

Stacey blinked the second that woman wrapped her hands around her wrist—pulling her closer.

“HOW DARE YOU?!” The model screamed—claws out. Before she could slash at her—Stacey dodged easily. Bless the ED for training her how to defend against crazy people.

Stacey kept dodging the model’s slashes and screams. Lando—finally hearing the commotion from the other side of the hall—ran to Stacey’s aide.

He pulled Stacey away just when the model slashed her nails again at her. He pulled Stacey behind him, nose flaring at the blonde vulture.

“WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON HERE?” He roared—causing everyone but Stacey to flinch. Stacey was unfazed. Sure, she didn’t expect to be attacked at a gala but hey, trauma nursing and personal trauma trained her enough.

“Fucking hell.” She muttered quietly—sighing as she face planted gently against Lando’s back.

—

Lando moved Stacey away from the gala. As they stood at a random balcony of the hotel—inhaling the fresh air—Lando wrapped his arms around her like a protective cocoon. Stacey exhaled, feeling all the tension release from her shoulders.

“I’m so sorry, my love,” he muttered against her hair. Stacey closed her eyes briefly—taking in the view of the Monaco harbour.

“I’m alright, Lan. It’s just… it sucks to be seen as just ‘Lando’s’, you know?”

“I know. You’re more than just that, Stace. You’re strong, hard-working, and impossibly kind.” He said quietly—wishing the world would just disappear and leave them be.

“This entire thing… they’ll see it, won’t they?” Stacey whispered, closing her eyes and willing for it all to go away. Lando let out a breath.

“Maybe. But… you can’t live in fear, my love.”

“I know, but…”

“I know. I know.” He kissed her head tenderly, holding her even closer.

“I’m right here, my love. Let them come. They won’t be able to touch you.” He said firmly—planting a firm kiss on her head.

Stacey closed her eyes briefly—taking in the cold Monaco night air. Without realising it, her thoughts began spiraling. Their words, no matter how many years she’s been away from them, it still haunts her.

I should have left you on the road.

You’re so useless.

Who would ever love you?

You’re nothing but a mistake.

Every single lie that they told her, every moment in her upbringing points to nothing but torture.

When someone tells you things too often, it becomes your truth.

Lando felt the tension on her shoulder and began unclipping her hair from its updo—her long brunette strands falling past her shoulders down her back. He gently kissed her head repeatedly—as though kissing away every single bad thought in her mind.

“My love…” He whispered softly, still hugging her tight. Stacey blinked her eyes open—fresh tears slipping down her cheeks. She deftly wiped it away. Stacey is not the kind to lie and say, “I’m fine.” Lando knows her too well for that.

“Talk to me, my love.” He urged her gently—kissing her shoulder. Stacey’s breath shuddered.

“Do you love me?” She whispered, barely above a breath. Lando hugged her even tighter.

“Always.”

“Even when…” She choked out a sob. “Even when I’m useless?”

Her voice broke at the last word and Lando’s heart shattered.

“You’ve never been useless a single day I’ve known you. Please, my heart… don’t say such things about yourself,” he hushed sadly—placing gentle touches all around her.

“I’m sorry.” Stacey’s shoulders racked with sobs as hot fresh tears slid down her face—ruining her makeup. A single tear slipped down Lando’s cheek.

“Don’t ever apologise to me. Not about this,” he croaked, turning her around and lifting her chin up to look at him. Her dark brown eyes, usually bright and shiny under the lights, are dulled and red-rimmed.

Lando pulled her closer to his chest—protecting her from her past.

“I will always love you.” Lando said firmly. “I hope you don’t mind patching me up for the rest of our lives.”

Stacey laughed wetly.

“I will always love you too, Lan. And yes, I’ll patch you up, no questions asked.”

“Good.”

—

The next day, social media blew up. Lando expected this and had already pre-empted his PR team to handle any issues. There were… several. The millions of his fans are split into three categories. The ones who expected Lando to date someone ‘prettier’ or a ‘model’, the ones who were happy to know that Stacey is a hardworking nurse, and the ones who genuinely doesn’t give a fuck and just wants to see him race.

Stacey only knew about the last two because Lando practically took her phone without her knowledge and began blocking the accounts. Until a quiet moment in her afternoon was shattered by an Unknown number calling her. Years of avoiding calls from Unknown numbers but this time, she picked it up. Blame it on the fact that she was watching ‘Friends’ and was distracted.

“Hello?” Stacey chirped over the line.

The person said nothing and just breathed heavily.

“Stacey.”

She froze.

“Found you.”

The call clicked off—making Stacey’s blood run cold. She recognised that voice. That voice was a part of her reality a few years ago.

Her aunt.

Stacey struggled to breath as her heart began pounding incessantly. She flipped through her recent calls and immediately blocked the number. She knew it’ll be futile. They’ll call from other numbers. They’ll find her.

They’re all the way in Italy. There’s no way they know she’s in Monaco…

“Lan?” She called out quietly—voice shaking. Lando immediately peeked his head out of his room. He was doing his sim and he immediately walked up to her the second he saw her troubled look.

“Bunny, what happened?”

“That was Ginevra.”

Lando froze. His heart and blood ran cold at her words.

“What?”

—

Without saying another word, Lando immediately took her phone and ripped out her sim card.

“You’re getting a new number.” He said quietly, throwing her sim card away. Stacey closed her eyes. This moment takes her back to 7 years ago when she threw away her old sim card before climbing out the window.

She could almost feel their presence enveloping her like a tundra. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stared silently at the photo of her and Lando in Boracay 3 months ago. Their smiles were as bright as the sun shining on them. His arms wrapped around her like a warm sun.

Lando sat beside her on the couch and repeated that same gesture. She shivered slightly from his touch. Grabbing a throw blanket, he wrapped themselves up under it.

“They’re going to find me.” Stacey finally spoke—unblinking. Lando exhaled through his nose.

“They won’t.” He insisted, nuzzling his head against her neck. “I’ll alert my security detail. I have their photos. You sent it to me before.”

Stacey’s breath shuddered at his words. As she looked up at his steely hazel eyes, her breath hitched. They were so full of determination and anger directed at the situation.

“I’m right here.” He said quietly, kissing the top of her head. “I’m not going anywhere. You’re safe.”

Stacey blinked away her tears, collapsing into his touch. Lando squeezed her tighter, giving her so much warmth and certainty.

I’m safe.

—

Stacey hasn’t been able to find a job as a nurse for a while. Until 2 months after she met Lando, she found a job at Princess Grace Hospital in Monaco as an Emergency Nurse. She thoroughly enjoyed her job. The colleagues are supportive and friendly, her Nurse Managers are understanding, and to top it all off—the job itself is fantastic.

Lando was driving her to work three days after the blow out. He tried going against it but he knew better. His grip on the steering wheel was knuckle-white, thinking about exit strategies and his security handling this situation.

“Are you sure you want to work?” His voice came out low, controlled. Stacey sighed imperceptibly.

“Yes, Lan. I… I have to feel normal.”

“Stacey. There is nothing normal about this situation.” He said quietly, glancing sideways at her on the passenger seat.

“I know! I know there is nothing normal about a nurse dating a F1 driver. I know that there is nothing normal about those people who are actively hunting me down. I know that!” She exclaimed softly, running her hands through her hair.

Lando’s nose flared fractionally.

“I just… I want to feel normal again. People still need nurses. I just want to go to work and do my job well.”

Lando sighed deeply.

“Alright.”

“Your security won’t hinder my job, right?”

“They’ll just be outside the ED, watching the entrance. They know how… those people look like.”

“Okay.”

—

Stacey was in the middle of an active resuscitation case. Her hands flew around expertly—drawing out accurate medication dosages and matching it up to the timings. While she did that, her colleague continued CPR and another one was preparing the airway for an intubation sequence.

Their Emergency Physician, Dr Munroe, a slightly graying gentleman, was ready for intubation. Stacey finished preparing the medications for the post-intubation sequence. After the intubation was successfully completed, the red phone in the Resus Room—making everyone’s head snap up.

The red phone almost never rang. When it did, it meant fire, violence, or a threat to the department.

Everyone’s breath stilled when Dr Munroe picked up the call.

“Resus Room, Dr Munroe speaking.”

The muffled voice of the person over the line was rushed. As the person stumbled through their sentences, Dr Munroe’s face went from confusion to sheer shock. Darting his eyes towards Stacey, he took a slow deep breath.

“Stacey.”

She straightened up and placed the syringe with medication down.

“Yes?”

“Do you know a woman named Ginevra?”

Stacey froze. Her body turned rigid, hands frozen in place. She didn’t breathe for a few heartbeats. Finding her voice, she whispered.

“Yes.”

—

Stacey was crouched down at the corner of the resus room. After they stabilised the patient and sent them up to the ICU, the resus bay is completely empty. Her colleague, Lina, gave her a bottle of water. She took it with trembling hands.

That call was an hour ago.

Lando’s security intercepted Ginevra when she tried entering the triage area—screaming for Stacey and pushing every nurse away. The nurses scrambled around—calling their Nurse Manager, Sister Rose, for help. Ginevra told Sister Rose that Stacey is mentally unstable, needs help, and is all alone in Monaco.

“You have to understand. Stacey is only 25. She shouldn’t be out here in the world, trying to play nurse. Our family is worried for her. She ran away at 18! And now, she’s dating some race car driver that will ruin her life!” Ginevra exclaimed loudly to Sister Rose—making every patient and visitor in the triage area turn to them.

“Ma’am, Nurse Stacey is currently at the Resuscitation Bay with a patient.” Sister Rose calmly began speaking—but Ginevra wouldn’t have any of it.

Without any rhyme or reason, she escalated.

“Stacey Montague shouldn’t be a nurse! Why did you hire such an unstable person?!” She yelled crazily—her short stature making her look almost comical. A junior nurse passing by gasped quietly when she heard Stacey’s name.

“I WANT TO TALK TO HER!”

Sister Rose’s eye twitched fractionally.

Ginevra didn’t appreciate the stone face of Sister Rose.

“I WANT TO TALK TO MY NIECE! STACEY, I KNOW YOU’RE HERE!”

Every patient at the triage area was looking at the two women talking. Naturally, some were filming.

As Stacey’s Nurse Manager, Sister Rose knew who this woman was. The older woman had worked with Stacey long enough to know these accusations didn’t match the woman she knew.

The moment the Hospital and Lando’s security forcefully removed her from the triage area, the entire world knew what went down with Lando’s girlfriend at Princess Grace. Stacey stared catatonically at the floor of her resus room, hand clutching onto that bottle like a lifeline.

My life is ruined.

—

The second Lando received a call from his security team about Ginevra, he left his PR meeting and rushed down to Princess Grace. Driving his PR manager’s understated Nissan, his grip was tense.

“Lando.” His PR manager, Tom, spoke quietly from the passenger seat.

“Not now, Tom. Not until I know she’s safe.”

Tom remained silent for the remainder of the ride.

They called Stacey’s Nurse Manager beforehand and she told them that Stacey is still in the Resus Room. Sister Rose mentioned that they will move Stacey into the Nurse Manager’s office for privacy.

“Mr Norris, Stacey might need a moment before she could walk to the office.” Sister Rose said calmly as she laid a gentle hand on Stacey’s trembling shoulders. Stacey was crying silently—surrounded by her entire Resus Team.

Dr Munroe was muttering angrily under his breath about people not understanding staff privacy, Lina was hugging Stacey gently, and Zeke was offering water and sustenance.

“I understand. I will be reaching in 10 minutes.” Lando said quietly—voice tight with concern.

The moment Lando turned the corner and saw Princess Grace’s Emergency Department—him and Tom gasped.

There was a huge crowd of paparazzi swarming Princess Grace’s Emergency Department Triage area. There were police officers for crowd control and the Hospital and Lando’s security team were trying to divert the paparazzi from filming.

“Everyone, no filming is allowed in hospital premises.” One of their voices boomed across the triage area—making some of the cameras to lower down a fraction.

Lando’s eyes darted towards the sliding doors of the Resus Bay, where Stacey would most likely be. He knew he’s not allowed to enter. He took a deep breath and drove away from the crowd. He parked at a private parking area and entered through the back entrance where Sister Rose was waiting for them.

“Mr Norris. Right this way, please.” Sister Rose said quietly—guiding the two of them into the staff area. Lando looked around the staff area and saw a staff bulletin board. His eyes darted to a photo of Stacey and a group of nurses in the pantry.

There was a huge birthday cake on the table in the photo that said "Happiest 25th Birthday To Super Nurse Stacey!” They were smiling so brightly and one of the older female nurses had her lips planted on Stacey’s cheek. It was maternal.

Lando’s lips twitched into a small sad smile.

The second he entered Sister Rose’s office, he paused. Stacey was sitting on the couch, shoulders wrapped up with what seemed to be the hospital blanket. The second her eyes landed on him, tears brimmed.

“Lan…”

Lando gasped quietly, never hearing such a broken tone on his girl before. He walked up to her in 3 long strides and hugged her trembling figure.

“I’m here…”

—

Sister Rose was speaking in hushed tones outside her office. As she spoke to the upper management, the Director of Nursing contacted the board and they began drafting a statement with Lando and Stacey. Both McLaren Racing and Princess Grace Hospital will release statements.

Lando wants to pursue a lawsuit against the Montagues or place a restraining order on the entire family. Stacey immediately refused.

“No, Lan. That’s not the way.”

“She’s going to keep escalating. Now it’s your workplace, next will be our home.” Lando said firmly—running his hand through his curls. He rested his arms on his knees and looked at his girlfriend.

She was still slightly trembling but there is no hiding the strong tone of her voice.

“Going through all that will crack open my past, Lando. I don’t want to do that. I don’t want strangers prying into my personal life.”

“We will do it privately. No need for the media.”

“My lawyers will do it. You don’t have to face them at all.” He added quietly—keeping a firm gaze on her. Stacey met his gaze and his eyes softened. He felt the anger dissipating from his heart and sighed quietly.

“Bunny.” His voice came out soft. Stacey closed her eyes briefly. Lando took that chance to pull her into another hug.

“I…” She whispered.

“I want to face them.”

Lando’s breath hitched.

With wide eyes, he asked, “Are you sure, my love?”

Stacey looked at him with a steely gaze.

“It’s time.”

—

The entire legal process was nothing short of a nightmare. Stacey had to dig through her old phone to collect the evidence of their abuse. Every mark on her skin since she was a teenager was photographed by her. She even managed to record a conversation where at 17, she was not allowed to leave the house to go to school because they said she is “Too stupid to learn. So, you might as well stay at home.”

Every time her grandparents and her aunt said such things, it was recorded discreetly. God knows why they didn’t even notice her recordings. But she thanked Him every day that they didn’t. When their lawyer, Mitchell, was going through the evidence, his jaw was clenched the entire time.

This was the first time Lando heard the conversations and one particular conversation made him stand up abruptly.

“I told you to bring your cake to school to eat it.” Ginevra’s voice rang through from the recording, making Stacey look down on the mahogany table in front of her.

“I’m sorry, I forgot about it. I was thinking about the exam today.” Young Stacey’s voice replied—shaky and uncertain.

“This is your birthday cake! You clearly don’t care enough about it! I bought it for you!” Ginevra screamed, making everyone in the room tense.

“I do care about it!” Young Stacey exclaimed softly—voice tearing at the edges.

“It’s long gone. I threw out your entire cake because you are extremely ungrateful and selfish. I hope this teaches you a lesson.” 

“Please don’t throw it! I’m so sorry! I’ll eat it all, I promise!” Young Stacey was fully crying, her racked sobs echoing through the cold room of Mitchell’s office.

“Too bad. Next year, I’m not going to bother celebrating your birthday. Useless. Ungrateful.” 

The recording ended there.

The entire room fell silent. Adult Stacey stared at the mahogany table—shaking slightly. Lando looked at his girlfriend. He immediately went up to her and hugged her tight.

“You deserve so much better than that.” He whispered quietly, kissing the top of her head.

That was one recording out of a hundred that Stacey managed to collect. Hundreds of photographs documenting her physical injuries lay alongside transcripts and recordings of years of verbal abuse.

Another photo almost made Lando punch a wall. It was a selfie taken by Young Stacey—face bruised up and tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t have been younger than 13. Mitchell looked at the photo in shock.

“Who… who did this?” He whispered, eyes wide in disbelief.

“My aunt.” 

Mitchell looked at the photograph of Ginevra that Stacey provided. She’s a small woman—easily 4’8. And she is also quite tubby. Mitchell couldn’t seem to wrap his head around how this short woman was able to beat up a 13 year old girl who is slightly taller than her.

“How?” He whispered.

Stacey swallowed thickly.

“I was asleep. She was… upset that I didn’t clean the dishes. So…”

Lando said nothing. His hands curled into fists on the table and his jaw was tight. He wrapped a protective arm around Stacey. Every time Stacey told him about their abuse, he wishes every day that he had known her since young. His parents would have taken her in. 

Mitchell closed his eyes briefly. Never in his 20 years as a lawyer has he seen such heavily documented abuse. He knew for a fact that these evidence would hold up in court but he couldn’t believe his eyes. 

“Your parents,” Mitchell spoke gently—trying to find the truth about them. “Where were they?” 

Stacey took a deep breath.

“My father and mother got their divorce finalised when I was two. My father was in prison for bike theft and my mother didn’t have a home. So, the court ordered for custody. It was taken by my grandmother.” Stacey explained calmly. She had told this story many times to her teachers who questioned her home life.

But none of them took a step further to protect her from them. 

Mitchell sighed deeply, looking at this strong 25 year old woman. 

“We will pursue this matter.” He said quietly, voice filled with determination. Stacey looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“Will these…” she whispered, pointing to the evidence laid out on the table. “Will these be enough?” 

Mitchell took a deep breath.

“More than enough.” 

—

Stacey straightened out her court outfit. It was a simple blue button down blouse with pants and beige heels. She looked at Lando who was dressed in the same colours as her. He locked her gaze and immediately hugged her.

“What’s going through your mind?” He muttered gently, brushing a strand of her hair back. Stacey sighed quietly, looking down.

“Afraid. Afraid that I’ll be seeing them again after 7 years.” She whispered, holding his arms to ground herself.

“You don’t have to look at them during the entire hearing. Just… keep your eyes on me, okay?” 

“But, you’ll be behind me.” 

“Turn your head.” He shrugged, chuckling lightly. Stacey scoffed lightly—shaking her head at her boyfriend.

“I’m gonna get a stiff neck, Lan.” 

“Eh. Worth it, no?” He smiled softly, dimples showing as he hugged her tight. Stacey chuckled softly, hugging him back.

He placed a gentle kiss on the top of her head.

“I’m right here.” 

“I know, bun.” 

—

The second court was adjourned, Stacey looked back at Lando with happy tears in her eyes. Their entire family was given a restraining order and was not allowed within 100m from her. As Stacey stood up, she looked at them for the last time. Ginevra was glaring at her, eyes full of betrayal. Her Nonna was crying silently, but Stacey knew better that it’s just crocodile tears. And her grandfather looked away from her—gaze straight towards the judge. 

The judge was a 40 year old man who was simply shocked at the mountain of evidence that Stacey and Mitchell showed. Their defense team simply called it “Disciplining a disturbed child.” But everyone knew it was false. The second the evidence of the abuse was shown, Ginevra screamed angrily.

“YOU USELESS CHILD! IS THIS HOW YOU REPAY OUR GENEROSITY?! BY TAKING PHOTOS?!” 

“Ma’am, please sit down.” The judge’s voice boomed across the courtroom.

“No! This kid is running around, fucking a Formula 1 driver and bringing shame to our family!” 

“Order.” 

“NO! This idiotic kid thinks a rich Formula 1 driver can love her as much as we did! HE DOESN’T LOVE YOU, STACEY. NO ONE WILL!” 

“Ma’am. Sit. Down, or I will hold you in contempt!” The judge raised his voice, reaching his limit with this short woman.

Stacey closed her eyes briefly, ignoring her entirely.

Ginevra finally sat down, not before shooting a dirty look at Stacey. The courtroom fell silent. The sheer notion that this woman just called a 25 year old woman ‘kid’ sent ripples through them.

The sound of the gavel broke the silence.

The second the judge issued the restraining order, Ciccily, Stacey’s grandmother wailed.

“No… our sweet girl. Please come back to us. Leave him! He is corrupting you!” She screamed, pointing at Lando in an accusatory manner. Stacey didn’t even look at her and simply stared ahead at the judge.

“LOOK AT US! You have ruined the family! Is this what you want?!” Ginevra screamed—trying to make Stacey look at them.

She didn’t.

“YOU’RE A USELESS CHILD! A COWARD! I SHOULD HAVE LEFT YOU AT THE ROAD!” 

“ENOUGH!” The judge roared, making Ginevra shut up for once. 

“You were given the responsibility to look after a child. Instead of honouring that—you decided to abuse her for 18 years. I have never seen such an extensive abuse to a minor. Any of your family members were to set foot near her, will answer to the court of law.” He boomed, voice echoing against the walls of the cold courtroom.

“Court is adjourned.” 

—

Six months later.

Stacey entered the paddock with a smile on her face, breathing in the nice atmosphere of Zandvoort. Lando stood beside her, hands wrapped around hers. These past few months have been nothing short of a miracle. The Internet died down and is now fully supporting her and Lando. Her private life is still sealed shut, and the Montagues haven’t been harassing her. 

Lando brought her home to Bristol for Easter Sunday and Cisca, his mum, hugged her tight and placed a big kiss on her cheek. Stacey spent the entire weekend surrounded by his family. His cousins, siblings, nephews, nieces, and many more. Little Norrises ran around, playing tag with her. 

As they sat down for a family dinner, Cisca hugged Stacey tight and whispered, “You’re always welcome here any time, sweet girl.” Cisca knew what happened to Stacey and she wished every day that she was the adult that took care of her. 

The second Lando and Stacey stepped into the McLaren hospitality, they were hit with the scent of coffee. Stacey smiled contentedly. Lando chuckled at her expression and gently nudged her.

“Sit down at our booth. I’ll grab your Iced Americano.” 

As Stacey sat down in their booth, she looked outside at the pit straight of Zandvoort. She couldn’t help but smile at everything. She looked down at her hands. The hands who had suffered so much trauma since she was a child. 

The hands that had held many who were on their final breaths and the hands who had tried her very best to help anyone who needed it. But…

These are also the hands that held Lando tightly. The ones who treated his little weekly injuries and the ones that held his jaw as she kissed him. 

She likes these hands. She’s thankful for them. For them, she has this beautiful life ahead of her. Turning her gaze towards Lando who was queueing up for their coffee, her gaze softened.

She loves that man. The man who stood by her side, giving her every weapon in his arsenal to help her win the war against them, the one who will never stop hugging her till his dying breath. And the one who always kisses her goodnight.

There’s a lot to love about this life, and Stacey is proud of her young self and adult self for holding onto it. For if she didn’t, she wouldn’t be this happy. She wouldn’t be this blessed to be surrounded by chaotic Norrises, her loving boyfriend, and her colleagues and friends. 

I love this life. 

Thank you.

-final author’s note-

and that’s it! couldn’t stop crying when i wrote the last section with faouzia’s ‘unethical.’ it was a little tough for me to write this story, because part of what the oc went through was what i went through as a minor. i will be forever grateful to my bf for always being there for me. i’m no longer in that environment and i thank the Universe everyday. i hope everyone enjoyed reading the story.

and if you’re a minor and you find yourself in a similar situation, please find a trusted adult that will hear your story. there will always be someone. just remember that you are special, you are the one thing in life you can control, and you will take back what is yours.

stay safe, and enjoy life.

2014

Stacey adjusted her uniform and tied up her hair in front of the mirror of her room. Her mother is downstairs, cooking pancakes for her—and Lando for when he shows up. As she was tying her shoelaces, she heard the front doorbell ringing. Her head snapped up as a small smile tugged on her lips. 

She quickly slung her tote bag over her shoulder and went downstairs. She walked past her living room and entered the kitchen where Lando was sitting by the kitchen island.

“Hey, Curly,” she smiled softly at him. Lando’s smile brightened, opening his arms for her. She hugged him tight and he kissed her head gently.

“Hey, Bunny.” They stayed hugging each other tight for a while.

Her mother, Victoria, looked at them and gave a pointed cough—breaking them apart. Stacey shyly tucked a hair behind her ear as Lando cleared his throat. 

“You two saw each other yesterday.” Victoria deadpanned, shaking her head at these two kids in love. Stacey pressed her lips together, not wanting to say anything desperate. Lando just shrugged and said, “Well, I miss her already.” 

Victoria stifled a laugh and shook her head endearingly at them. 

“Enjoy your youth, you two. God knows you won’t be able to when you’re adults.” 

The young couple simply looked at each other and smiled. Lando gently placed a kiss on Stacey’s cheek—making her blush. Victoria sighed quietly and gave them the pancakes.

“Eat up. School starts soon.” 

As they both ate at the kitchen island, they would occasionally bump feet with each other playfully and giggle to themselves. Victoria quietly retreated to the living room but still within eyeline of the two of them. 

Lando quickly looked at Victoria and saw that she went to the bathroom. He quickly held Stacey’s hand and gave her a quick kiss on her lips. Stacey gasped softly and smacked his hand playfully. 

“You’re naughty,” she blushed—eyes darting around the living room for her mother.

“You love it.” 

Stacey looked down—shy.

“I do.” 

“Good.” 

He looked around again and quickly gave her another kiss. Slower this time, more meaningful and deep before gently pulling away and kissing her nose.

“I love you, Bunny.” 

“I love you too, Curly.” 

—

Saturday

Lando bounded excitedly to Stacey’s house—ready for their date. They have both completed all of their homeworks (and checked thoroughly by both sets of parents), and Lando had a great idea for their date today. As next door neighbours, both parents were naturally close and they’ll often spend their weekends together. 

Cisca and Adam, Lando’s mum and dad, shook their heads at the sight of their teenage son jogging up to the Sinclair’s front door.

“I thought boys your age are very…discreet when it comes to girls they like,” Adam said with a soft laugh. Lando gasped dramatically and shook his head.

“I’ll never be discreet about her. She’s too precious.” 

Cisca’s heart melted at her son’s words. She looked at her husband and smiled brightly at him.

“Reminds me of someone I know,” she said pointedly at Adam with a smile. Adam chuckled endearingly and kissed the top of her head. 

As Lando rang the doorbell, he quickly adjusted his t-shirt (one of the better looking ones) and smoothened out his hair. Victoria opened the door with a bright smile.

“Norrises! Come on in! Lando, Stacey is in her room.” 

“Thank you, Victoria!” Lando said excitedly, bounding up her stairs.

Victoria called out quickly, “Remember keep the door open—“

“Three inches! Got it!” Lando cut her off quickly, entering Stacey’s room excitedly. 

Victoria sighed affectionately and hugged Cisca. 

“Young love.” 

“You got that right,” Cisca laughed, as they went into the patio to enjoy their afternoon tea and snacks. 

“Was I that passionate at 15, my love?” Adam asked Cisca. Cisca huffed a short laugh and looked at Victoria.

“He still is.” 

Victoria laughed into her hand.

—

Lando brought Stacey to the park, wanting to teach her how to rollerskate. He brought an extra helmet, knee and elbow pads for her. As he kneeled down to the floor to tie up her rollerskates, she adjusted her helmet strap. Lando looked up and smiled brightly at her. Stacey smiled softly at his dimples and lightly pecked his cheek. 

Lando stood up, holding his hand out for her to grab. As she skated wobbily, Lando chuckled lowly and held her hand and waist gently.

“You’re doing great, bunny,” he said encouragingly, kissing the top of her helmet. She almost tripped from blushing so brightly at him. Lando quickly held her up as they continued roller skating around the park.  

They skated happily, occasionally laughing when one of them almost trips. Stacey is the one tripping half the time. Lando’s grip on her waist never wavered. 

Stacey insists she can skate by herself.

Immediately almost falls.

Lando catches her.

“You were saying?”

“Shut up.”

As the sun began dipping low in Bristol, Lando and Stacey sat on a bench near a lake. Their skates were on the floor as Stacey placed her head on Lando’s shoulder. 

“You have your karting championship race this weekend, right?” She asked him delicately, looking up at him. Lando bit his lip and nodded shyly.

“Yeah. Are you…coming?” He fidgeted with his tshirt. Stacey chuckled heartily at his shyness.

“Of course, I am! I always do, Lan!” She hugged his waist gently. Lando’s heart bloomed at her words. She’s always supportive of him. 

“What about you? When’s your next snowboarding competition?” 

Stacey hummed, thinking. 

“Next month. Junior FIS event in Austria. It’s the Junior World Championship. Are you…gonna watch it live?” Stacey whispered softly, a little shy. Lando blushed softly and nodded excitedly.

“Of course I’ll catch it live. I always do,” he chuckled lightly, nudging her shoulder lightly. Stacey’s smile widened as they looked at each other. Lando kissed her cheek gently as he tucked a stray hair behind her ear. As his fingers gently brushed her jaw, he leaned in and gave her the faintest kiss on her lips. 

Stacey smiled into the kiss and gently deepened it. Lando’s hands remained respectful on her waist as she gently cupped his jaw. When they pulled away, they leaned their foreheads against each other’s and breathed in the same air. Their eyes fluttered closed, feeling the soft breeze and budding love between them. 

Lando gently opened his eyes and looked at his girlfriend. His heart kicked a little, seeing how her eyes were still closed. So trusting of him. Lando’s smile widened as he delicately pecked her cheek. Stacey made a sound of contentment and opened her eyes. 

“Hi.” Lando whispered shyly, hand in her hair, lightly tugging the black strands.

Stacey giggled lightly.

“Hi.” 

—

“PUSH LAN, PUSH!” Stacey screamed excitedly at the grandstands of the karting track. Both sets of parents were standing behind her, yelling for him as well. The entire grandstand was filled with parents, other children, and coaches who were rooting for their own racer. 

The moment Lando crossed the line P1, Stacey screamed happily—immediately running straight to him. The adults chuckled warmly at the mere sight of Stacey sprinting at full force towards Lando. Lando was exiting his kart, about to remove his helmet when he heard her voice.

“CURLY!” She screamed happily as she ran towards him. A massive, dimpled smile broke across his face. He opened his arms for her. She crashed into it, hugging him so tight. 

“I’m so proud of you! So proud!” She smiled brightly, flipping up Lando’s helmet visor to see his eyes. His hazel eyes were crinkling at the corners, ecstatic. Her smile widened as she hugged him again. Lando wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his helmeted face against the crook of her neck. 

“Thank you,” his voice came out shaky and broken. Stacey backed away a little and kissed his helmet. Particularly the spot where his lips would be. 

“I’m always proud of you, baby. Always,” she pulled him back into her arms. Lando released a soft, broken laugh as he felt her head on his chest as they hugged. 

—

Lando turned the TV volume up, his parents sitting on the sofa—watching Stacey’s snowboarding competition. The FIS Junior World Championships is for the best of the best and Lando’s heart swelled with pride when she told him about it. 

He sent her a quick text before her section, the Halfpipe. 

Curly:

I’m so proud of you ❤️

Watching all the way from Bristol.

Stacey didn’t reply, which makes sense to Lando. She’s busy gearing up, mentally preparing herself for her programme. 

The commentator’s voice cut through his thoughts.

“Final rider. Great Britain. Stacey Sinclair.”

Lando sat cross-legged on the floor of his living room, eyes glued to the screen. His parents occupied the sofa behind him, equally invested in the competition.

His knee bounced nervously.

“Relax,” Adam chuckled.

“I am relaxed.”

“You’ve been chewing on your sleeve for ten minutes.”

Lando immediately dropped his sleeve.

On screen, Stacey adjusted her goggles at the top of the halfpipe. The camera zoomed in briefly. Lando’s heart kicked. She looked beautiful. The snow in her hair, the all white gear she had on.

“There she is,” he whispered.

The start buzzer sounded. Stacey pushed off. Lando leaned forward immediately.

“Come on, Bunny.”

She accelerated down the pipe. First wall. Stacey launched into a McTwist.

Lando’s stomach dropped.

“OH MY GOD.”

She landed cleanly. The commentators erupted in excitement.

“Beautiful execution from Sinclair!”

Lando released a breath.

“Okay.”

Second wall. She pulled a Backside 720. Perfect landing.

“Okay.”

Third wall, another Frontside 900. The commentators nearly shouted. Lando was now fully kneeling in front of the television.

“Okay.”

Cisca exchanged an amused glance with Adam.

Their son looked like he was witnessing a national emergency. On screen, Stacey gained speed. More speed. Even more. The commentator’s voice sharpened.

“Sinclair is setting up for something huge here.”

Lando froze.

The final wall approached. Stacey exploded into the air. The living room fell silent. One rotation.

Then another.

Then another.

Lando’s eyes widened.

“No way.”

The commentator practically screamed.

“DOUBLE MCTWIST TEN EIGHTY!”

Stacey completed the rotation.

For one horrifying second she seemed to hang in the air forever.

Then—

She landed. Clean. Perfect. The crowd in Austria exploded.

So did Lando.

“YES!”

He launched off the floor so fast he nearly knocked over the coffee table.

“YES! YES! YES!”

Adam burst out laughing. Cisca clapped happily. On screen, Stacey threw her arms into the air. The scores appeared.

1st.

Lando stared. Then grinned so hard his cheeks hurt.

His Bunny was Junior World Champion.

Before the commentators could even finish speaking, he was already grabbing his phone. Stacey answered on the second ring.

“Hi, Curly.”

The sound of her voice made him smile instantly.

“You were upside down.”

Stacey laughed.

“Hello to you too.”

“You were upside down twice.”

“I’m aware.”

“You could’ve died.”

“I won.”

“You could’ve died and won.”

Stacey laughed so hard she nearly dropped the phone. After they hung up, she went straight to her coaches and parents who hugged her tight. 

—

The medal was still around Stacey’s neck when everything started to blur into noise again.

She couldn’t believe it.

Junior World Champion.

Her.

People kept congratulating her. She was still smiling—kind of stuck in it—when she found her mum again near the side of the venue.

Victoria pulled her into a tight hug immediately.

“I’m so proud of you,” she said, voice slightly unsteady. “So, so proud.”

Stacey just nodded into her shoulder, a wide grin still stuck on her face. 

That was when she noticed it.

A man standing just a few steps behind her mum.

He didn’t look like a fan. He looked like he had been waiting.

“Mrs Sinclair?” he said gently.

Victoria turned.

“Yes?”

He smiled politely.

“My name’s Mark Reynolds. I’m with the British snow sports development programme.”

Stacey blinked. Her mum’s arm tightened slightly around her shoulder.

“Oh,” Victoria said carefully. “Right.”

Mark’s gaze flicked briefly to Stacey, then back to her mum.

“We’ve been following Stacey for a while,” he continued. “But after today… I think it’s fair to say she’s made things a little more urgent.”

Stacey didn’t move. She just stood there, still in her gear, medal cold against her collarbone.

Urgent.

Her heart pounded against her ribs.

“We’d like to invite her into our national development pathway,” he said. “Training camps, assessments, long-term planning. She’s still very young, but she’s… clearly ahead of her age group.”

Victoria glanced down at Stacey for half a second, like she needed to make sure she was still there.

Stacey gave a small, automatic nod. 

“Right,” her mum said again, slower this time. “And what does that mean exactly?”

Mark hesitated—not unsure, just careful.

“It means we think she has genuine Olympic potential.”

The noise around them didn’t stop.

But it felt like it went further away.

Stacey’s fingers tightened around the strap of her snowboard bag.

Olympics.

The word didn’t feel real when it was said like that. Not in magazines. Not in daydreams. Not even when she and Lando joked about it.

It feels heavier now. Realer.

Victoria exhaled slowly through her nose.

“Can she… still be a kid?” she asked quietly.

Mark nodded immediately.

“Of course. That’s the point of the development programme. We build gradually. No pressure to rush anything.”

He paused, then added, softer:

“But she’s not just talented. She’s already competing like someone much older.”

Stacey finally looked up properly.

“I just… went down the pipe,” she said, a little confused, like she was trying to understand why everyone was suddenly speaking about her like she wasn’t standing right there.

Mark smiled slightly.

“Yes,” he said. “But not many people go down the pipe like that.”

A beat.

Then he held out a card to Victoria instead of her.

“We’d like to stay in contact,” he said. “If you’re open to it.”

Victoria took it slowly. Like it might change something just by being paper. Stacey watched her mum look at it for a moment too long.

Then Victoria nodded once.

“Okay,” she said. “We’ll… talk about it.”

Mark gave a small, professional smile.

“Congratulations again.”

And then he was gone, melting back into the crowd like it was nothing.

Stacey stood still. Her mum turned to her properly.

“You alright?” she asked gently.

Stacey swallowed.

“I think so,” she said.

A pause.

Then, quieter:

“Did I… do something different?”

Victoria let out a soft laugh—not mocking. Just overwhelmed.

“No,” she said, brushing a strand of hair from Stacey’s face. “You’ve just been good for a long time.”

Stacey looked down at her medal again. It suddenly felt heavier than it had ten minutes ago.

Somewhere far away—across countries, across noise, across everything—

Lando would be watching.

And for the first time, Stacey didn’t know how to explain this part to him yet.

—

2017

Stacey hadn’t told him yet. Not properly. She stared at her phone on her desk, thumb hovering over the message again. It was just a normal announcement. Nothing dramatic. Nothing that should make her hands feel like this.

But it did anyway.

Lando had done it first.

McLaren Young Driver Programme.

She had seen the photos, the articles, the way people suddenly started saying his name differently. Like it meant something bigger now. As though he was becoming something fixed.

Stacey pressed her lips together and finally typed.

Stace: 

I got called up.

She paused.

Deleted it.

Typed again.

Stace:

I’m going into the national programme.

Deleted that too.

Her jaw tightened slightly. The words felt wrong no matter what she did to shape them.

Her phone buzzed.

Curly: 

just saw the news

Stacey froze. Of course he had. Of course he always did. Another message came through before she could respond.

Curly: 

you didn’t tell me

She stared at it for a second too long.

Then.

Stace: 

I was going to

Three dots appeared immediately. Then stopped. Then it started again.

Curly: 

that’s good though right

She let out a small breath she didn’t realise she was holding.

Stace: yeah. it is

Another pause. Longer this time.

Curly: 

i wish you told me first

Her chest tightened.

She leaned back in her chair, phone still in her hand, staring at the ceiling for a second like it might help. Because she knew. He wasn’t angry. He just wanted to be there. Like he always was.

Like he still thought he could be.

Stace: 

I know

Another buzz.

Curly:

I’m proud of you

Her throat caught slightly at that. She blinked once, then again.

Curly:

like really proud

She typed and deleted twice before finally settling.

Stace:

I know

A pause.

Then:

Stace: 

i’m proud of you too

This time the reply took longer. When it came, it was simple.

Curly: 

yeah?

She smiled a little without meaning to.

Stace: 

yeah

Another pause.

Then:

Curly: 

we’re doing it then

Stacey looked at the message for a long time. We’re doing it. Like it was still one thing. Now they’re both eighteen. She wished she could say otherwise but even she couldn’t deny the space between them anymore. The space between Austria and England and circuits and training camps didn’t exist yet. She can’t keep ignoring the distance that has been growing between them for almost a year.

Her fingers hovered. Then she replied.

Stace: 

yeah

And for a moment, that was enough. 

—

She saw him two weeks later. It wasn’t planned like it used to be. Just a gap in schedules that somehow lined up. Stacey was at home, cleaning up her gear when the doorbell rang. She went downstairs and saw him for the first time in almost two months.

He was waiting outside like he always used to. Except he didn’t move straight away this time. He just looked at her first.

Like he was checking she was real. Then he smiled.

“Hi,” he said.

Like nothing had changed. Stacey stepped forward anyway.

“Hi,” she replied.

And when he finally pulled her into a hug, it felt the same.

Almost.

As they hugged each other tight, she smelled the engine oil and his aftershave. He smelled mountain snow and her usual vanilla scent. They both hated that a part of their new world is now a part of their scent. He pulled her in tighter. Much tighter. They pulled away, looking at each other. 

Stacey looked different. 

So did he.

Her eyes are more quiet, less of the Stacey he once knew. He still loves her, but… he couldn’t put a finger on it.

Lando is still who he is, with something heavy weighing him down. It must be the pressure of being McLaren’s developing driver. 

Without saying anything, she gently placed a hand on his jaw—memorising him again. Lando leaned into her touch and sighed fractionally, feeling the weight coming off his shoulders. 

As he opened his eyes, they stared at each other for a long time. 

They still love each other, right? 

Even with all the obligations, the responsibilities, the lack of calls and messages between them? They couldn’t help but acknowledge that there is a certain distance between them that could not be avoided anymore. 

Lando huffed under his breath, looking into her blue eyes. They’re so full of… uncertainty. Like there is something that has been holding her back this past year. Lando took a deep breath and leaned in. 

As they kissed in front of Sinclair's front porch, they couldn’t help but notice how different it is now. It’s as though things between them no longer have that same... 

Love.

They pulled away and Lando’s breath hitched. 

Stacey had tears in her eyes.

“Hey…hey, what’s wrong?” His voice came out soft and hesitant. Afraid to hear what he has been noticing these past few months. Her distance. His distance.

“I…fuck.” Stacey stuttered, unable to look at him. Lando’s frown deepened. Something happened.

“What happened?” He whispered quietly—unwilling to hear the truth.

Stacey finally looked at him.

“We can’t do this anymore, Lando.” 

Lando.

He hasn’t heard her say his name in this tone. He stared at her wordlessly, heart fracturing at her words. He refused to believe this. 

Is she breaking up with him?

“Do what? What—what are you talking about, Bunny?” Lando’s voice came out quick and hurried—refusing to acknowledge this. 

Stacey pressed her shaking lips together. She doesn’t want to be the one to do this. She couldn’t. 

“I…I think we should break up.” She felt her heart shattering at her fabricated words. Lando gasped quietly, taking a shaky step away from her. 

“No…you…no.” Lando shook his head repeatedly as tears welled up in his eyes. Stacey took a shuddering breath and stepped away from him. 

“We…” She fidgeted with her shirt. Lando’s eyes were searching for answers in her. 

“You’re lying.” He said quietly, fully aware of her lie. Stacey swallowed thickly, unable to look at him. 

“Stacey. Look at me, please.” His voice broke as tears streamed down his face.

“You’re throwing us away?”

Stacey’s lips trembled further. She couldn’t do this. She…but she had to.

“I don’t love you anymore,” she looked straight into his eyes, face neutral. Her eyes betrayed her. She felt her own heart breaking by yet another lie coming from her. Lando gasped, mouth agape as he processed her words. 

He couldn’t.

Instead, he simply took a deep breath and took a shaky step away from her. 

And another.

Until his back was turned as he walked back to his house with his heart shattered. 

Stacey looked at his bowed head and she immediately ran up to her room—slamming the door shut. She crashed onto her bed and cried on her pillow. 

She just broke his heart.

And her own.

For what?

—

2025

Stacey got off the phone with her manager who told her that she would be sponsored to go for a Formula 1 race in Monaco. Sponsored by Red Bull, her own sponsor for the Olympics. 

A lot of things have happened since 2017 on her front porch. She went to be an Olympian for the 2022 Winter Olympics and won Gold. She went around the world competing, training, taking photoshoots for advertisements, and many more. Lando went into F1 and no one knows this—but she’s following his career well. 

She knows that this year, his team, McLaren, is doing extremely well. He could be World Champion. And now, she has to go into the paddock for the first time in her life and pray to whichever deity that would listen to her. She prays to not bump into him at all. 

As she entered the paddock, cameras began flashing as they spotted the Olympian Gold Medalist. She waved politely at the cameras and pushed her sunglasses higher.

As she greeted the PR manager for Red Bull and they began taking videos and photos of her at the garage, her eyes kept darting around the garage—hoping to not see him. 

It would be ridiculous to see him in the Red Bull garage, but Stacey’s heart hasn’t stopped drumming incessantly. She took a deep breath and smiled again for the camera. 

As she stood to the side, watching the team prepare for qualifying, she couldn’t help but appreciate the teamwork they have. Every person in the garage has something important to do. 

Max Verstappen came into the garage and her breath hitched slightly. He had his race suit unzipped at the waist. They’ve met a couple of times due to sponsorship dinners and he might have tried asking her out once or twice. She simply waved at him and a smile cracked through his face.

He went up to her and hugged her. 

“Good to see you,” he said delicately at her in his accent. Stacey smiled simply and nodded.

“The garage is fantastic, by the way. Great teamwork and effort.” 

Max’s smile widened at her words.

“Yeah? You should see them do a pitstop for the race. Even more impressive.” 

“Oh, I’d bet,” she chuckled airily as Max looked at her with that same unguarded look. He cleared his throat slightly and nodded towards his car.

“I’m going to prepare for qualifying.” 

“Go ahead, good luck!” She said with a small smile, waving goodbye to him. 

He nodded once and went to his car—fidgeting with his racing gloves.

—

Right before qualifying started, her PR manager pulled her to the side and told her something in a hurried tone.

“Okay, they need you to present the Pole Position Award later.” 

“Okay…” 

She walked with her PR manager—unsure, as they went near the Parc Fermé. 

“Just stand on the podium platform, hand over the award, quick photos, then you’re done.” Her PR manager said quickly, stepping away from her. 

As the qualifying sessions proceeded, she began noticing that Lando was going much faster than the rest of the grid. 

Oh. 

Oh no.

What if he gets pole?

She swallowed thickly, staring at the screen and somehow willing for any other driver to take the pole position away from him. But the McLarens are too fast. Too dominating. Her eyes widened and a chill went down her spine when the commentators shouted, “Lando Norris on provisional pole for the Monaco Grand Prix!” 

Fuck.

Oh. 

Oh no…

Stacey swallowed thickly, removing her sunglasses with shaky hands. She wiped her sweaty hands on the front of her jeans as she saw Lando’s car parked at the Number 1 spot. He was smiling to the cameras, holding up the number ‘1.’ 

He looked different in real life. He had clearly grown into his looks. A small part of her hated that he looked so good. She closed her eyes briefly as her heart pounded against her ribs. 

One of the FIA staff handed her a small Pirelli tire to sign it. It’s the Pole Position award. With shaking hands, she held the silver marker and did her autograph and small congratulatory note.

‘Congratulations for Pole Position. Good luck for the race, Curly. - Stacey Sinclair’

Her eyes widened when muscle memory kicked in—writing ‘Curly’ instead of ‘Lando.’ There’s no way to erase this. She tried rubbing the silver permanent marker off slightly but it won’t even smudge.

Fuck.

Her grip on the tire tightened as she saw Lando finishing up with his interview. He was walking towards the stage, still unaware of her presence. She took a deep breath and the FIA staff gently nudged her to get on there as well. 

With a shuddering breath, she walked up to the stage, darting her eyes to the ground. The commentators spoke, causing Lando’s head to snap in her direction.

“Presenting the Pole Position Award is Olympian Gold Medalist, Stacey Sinclair!” 

As Stacey stepped up to the stage with him, their eyes found each other. A beat passes. 

Another. 

Lando’s breath hitched as he fully took her in. She looked beautiful in that light blue blouse and dark jeans. Her long black hair was tied up in a half up-do. With shaking hands, Stacey handed him the Pirelli tire and he looked at the note. 

Without realising it, tears brimmed in his eyes. 

He looked at her. 

She couldn’t. 

She was looking straight at the camera with a rigid smile, ready for the photo taking. Lando kept staring at her quietly, his heart fracturing again.

“Uhm…Lando? Photo time.” The photographer said quickly, causing Lando to snap his head at him and matched Stacey’s smile. After they’re done, Stacey took a deep breath and looked at him.

“Congratulations.” She muttered quietly, unable to look at him. She began blinking rapidly to stop the tears. Lando nodded once—rigid.

“Thank you.” 

As Stacey walked away, Lando couldn’t stop his heart from breaking all over again. He watched her retreating figure and felt a certain resolve settling in his bones.

He took a deep breath and ran after her. 

“Stacey!” 

She gasped softly as she heard him call her name. She didn’t turn.

“Stacey!” 

Didn’t turn. 

Quickly walking down the paddock. Squeezing herself amongst the other people.

“BUNNY!” 

She froze in her steps. 

Her breath hitched as tears formed in her eyes.

Lando pushed past the crowd and gently turned her around. He swallowed thickly and gently guided her away from the prying eyes of the paddock. 

—

Lando guided her to the back of the McLaren garage. She couldn’t help but a single tear went down her face as she looked up at him. Without thinking—Lando hugged her. Tight.

She broke down against his chest as she felt something that has never happened since 2017. 

Home. 

“I’m sorry,” she hiccupped, voice breaking at the seams. “I’m sorry for breaking us up. I was afraid.” 

Lando buried his head in the crook of her neck. Inhaling her mountain snow and vanilla scent. 

“Afraid of what, Bunny?” 

“That our worlds will tear us apart before we’re too late to stop it.” 

Lando gasped softly, burying his face even further into her shoulder. He had a death grip on her blouse, afraid that this was a dream. Afraid that after all this time, he would wake up in those same cold hotel rooms, beside strangers he never cared for. 

His breath shuddered as they held each other tight. 

“I still love you, Curly,” she whispered—finally looking up at him. Lando gave her a broken smile as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

“I still love you too, Bunny.” He pressed a kiss against her lips and felt every single tension bleed out of him. She made a small sound as they kissed each other desperately, hands gripping onto his race suit. He grabbed her gently by her nape and deepened the kiss. 

She pulled him closer by his race suit and wrapped an arm around the back of his neck. As they tasted each other, the world around them seemed to stop. Nothing else matters. Just this. 

Just home.

—

Abu Dhabi was sweltering. Stacey adjusted her long dress and her shades. Lando chuckled softly as he saw her fidgeting. 

“Bunny, you know you can just wear anything. It doesn’t have to be long sleeved,” he pecked her cheek lovingly. Stacey blushed.

“It’s Abu Dhabi. I want to respect their culture and religion. I’m not showing up in shorts.” She explained with a small huff. Lando nodded, appreciating her words. He kissed the top of her head gently as they entered the paddock.

This is the race that will decide Lando’s Championship. Stacey knew for a fact that it would be his. She has absolute faith in him. Lando hasn’t been sleeping well recently but she has been there the whole time. 

The Winter Olympics is in February 2026 and she has a few weeks off before she has to fly to Austria for her training. 

Stacey hugged Cisca and Adam tightly the moment she saw them. They were devastated to find out that they broke up back in 2017. But now, they’re back together and everyone is thrilled. She ignored some of the comments his fans have placed on social media about her. 

Mostly were positive but there will be those who hate her. She didn’t mind it much—she’s already used to those comments since she joined the Olympics. 

As they stood in the McLaren garage watching the formation lap, she clasped her hands and prayed to every deity she knew. As the race went on, she kept her hands clasped. She did not even glance at the camera as it panned to her. 

He just needs P4 and the Championship is his. 

P4. 

As he overtook Tsunoda and got P4, Stacey’s heart leaped out of her chest. She continued praying even harder. For his safety, for his win, for anything.

The second the final lap came around the corner, the McLaren mechanics dashed out of the garage and climbed the pitwall, ready to welcome their champion home. Stacey and his parents were guided to Parc Fermé, where the cameras and he will be. 

The second he got out of the car, he went straight to Stacey. They both ran up to each other. Stacey screamed, “CURLY!” And jumped into his open arms. Lando laughed excitedly as he spun her around, arms tight around her waist. Lando is all sweaty from the race but Stacey didn’t mind. The cameras went crazy around them. They didn’t notice.

“WORLD CHAMPION CURLY, YOU ARE WORLD CHAMPION!” She screamed happily as he twirled her around in the air. Lando couldn’t hide his big grin, showing off his dimples. Stacey smiled brightly at him as unshed tears brimmed her eyes.

She gently kissed his cheeks and Lando hugged her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. He couldn’t help inhaling her scent. Mountain snow and vanilla.

He pulled back and cried happy tears. Stacey gently kissed his tears away, kissing his eyelids tenderly. Lando closed his eyes—embracing this feeling. 

It’s his core memory. 

—

Lando pulled his puffer jacket closer as huffs of air escaped him. It’s cold here in February at Milano Cortina. Stacey had to go and change into her gear before her programme so he’s holding a mug of hot chocolate and standing with Stacey’s parents. He spotted Stacey in her usual all white gear and his heart swelled with pride. He knows how hard she trains, those late nights at the half-pipe, the long distance calls and texts. Since it’s his off season, and pre-season testing for the new cars aren’t until next week, he has been spending his time with her. 

The moment Stacey approached them, he opened his arms wide for her. She giggled softly and hugged him tight. He breathed in her signature scent that he has grown to love and gently kissed her helmeted head. Her parents stepped back a little, giving the couple some space.

“I’m so proud of you,” he said delicately, full of pride. Stacey blushed and shook her head.

“Silly. I haven’t won anything yet.” 

Lando huffed out a laugh.

“You don’t have to win anything. I’ll always be proud.” 

“Aww, Curly. You can’t say things like that!” She exclaimed softly, covering her blushing face. Lando chuckled endearingly and brought her hands down.

“Don’t hide from me like that. I love seeing you blush,” he whispered, gently kissing her blushing cheeks. Her face turned crimson. 

“Okay, I have to go now. I’ll see you after, okay?” She kissed him gently. Lando kissed her back as he held her waist and leaned his forehead against hers.

“I’ll be here.” 

—

Gold. 

“STACEY SINCLAIR WINS GOLD FOR THE WOMEN’S HALF-PIPE!” The commentators screamed—ecstatic. The crowd at Milano Cortina cheered and screamed for her as she boarded down the hill. She covered her face in excitement and screamed happily. 

Immediately unbuckling the straps of her board, she ran straight to Lando—who already had his arms open.

“BUNNY, YOU DID IT! GOLD MEDAL!” He yelled excitedly, bouncing her around and making her laugh and giggle. She buried her head against his chest as he twirled her around. He looked into her blue eyes and saw pure, unadulterated joy. He kissed her hard, in front of everyone. As they kissed, Lando couldn’t help but notice the happy tears in her eyes. 

He gently kissed them away. 

“I’m so proud of you, Bunny.” He whispered hoarsely, kissing her cheeks relentlessly. 

“So, so proud.” 

“Thank you, Curly.” 

“I love you. So much,” he kissed her wet cheeks. 

Stacey huffed out a soft laugh, staring at her boyfriend.

“I love you so much too.” 

As they embraced each other in front of thousands of spectators, her parents, the entire world, and God, they knew one thing for sure. 

Nothing could tear them apart. 

Not fear, nothing. 

They will continue dominating the motorsport and the Olympic world, both shattering records that nobody thought was possible. 

But to them? They’re still just Bunny and Curly.

-final author’s note-

i truly had fun writing this! i hope everyone enjoyed reading that ◡̈ i looped ‘18’ as i wrote this. it truly was a visceral experience. i wish to write more stories like this. something light-hearted with a hint of angst. also, can’t believe it’s my 10th fanfic! i have had a great time writing these stories! thank you everyone for reading my stories. stay safe and enjoy life!

Act I

Aurelia pulled off her balaclava roughly, tossing it away. She glared at the screens showing his stupid face with that P1 on it. All the cameras at Parc Fermé were crowding him. Her braided black hair tumbled out, extremely messy and sticky from sweat. Her nose flared—glaring at the back of his stupid head. 

Pushing past the cameramen, she shoved him from the back—hard. He lost his footing. 

“Ow! What the fuck?” Lando turned around. Before he could say anything, Aurelia shoved him again.

“What the hell was that move at Eau Rogue, Norris?” She snapped, pushing him again and again. Lando was swatting her hands away, annoyed more than hurt. All the cameras were pointing to a livid Aurelia pummeling Lando with attacks.

“Quit it, Sinclair! It was a racing incident!” He snarled, finally pushing her away. Aurelia stumbled backwards, her hair spilling out of its braid. 

“Yeah, a ‘racing incident’ that caused me a shot at the podium!” 

Her black hair tumbled down to her waist as she snapped her gaze at him. Everyone gasped quietly. She growled and charged straight at him—hair flying wildly. Lando’s eyes widened in fear. 

The moment she went up to him, she grabbed a fistful of his curls and yanked it hard. Lando yelped.

“OW! STOP THAT! WHAT THE FUCK?!”

“I’LL FUCK YOU UP, RAMEN HEAD!” 

“I THOUGHT YOU GAVE UP THAT NICKNAME!” 

Aurelia pulled him down to her level and wrapped an arm around the back of his neck—pulling him down even further. Lando squealed even louder.

“LET GO OF ME! OW! WHAT THE FUCK!” 

Before Lando could retaliate, she felt someone wrap an arm around her waist and pulled her off. As the person lifted her 5’4 self off the ground, she was thrashing about, wanting to grab Norris again.

“LET ME GO! LET ME AT HIM! I’LL FUCKING KILL YOU RAMEN HEAD!”

“Enough, Aure.” 

She froze, recognising the voice. That quiet, deadly calm voice of her best friend and teammate.

Max. 

He gently placed her feet down to the ground after stepping away a few meters from Norris.

“He said what happened between us was a racing incident!” She snapped at Max, pointing an accusatory finger at Norris. Max exhaled deeply, rubbing his temple.

“Was it?” He asked quietly. Aurelia scoffed defensively. 

“He pushed me wide, I almost kissed the wall and he overtook me because he left the track and gained an advantage! No penalty! Either way, I have already filed it with the stewards. They’ll be talking to us soon.” 

Turning around towards Lando, she added:

“And I hope they give him a 5 place grid penalty for being an ASSHOLE!” 

Lando winced quietly, trying to ignore her words. He couldn’t.

“Get a grip, Sinclair. You’re just here for marketing purposes.” He snapped.

The air turned to ice. 

Max closed his eyes, wishing he didn’t just hear Lando say something so fucking stupid. Aurelia’s face turned neutral—but her eyes sharp. She quietly walked up to him. 

Lando flinched when he saw her. 

The second he saw her expression, regret punched him in the stomach. Swallowing her pain, she took a deep breath, glaring at his hazel eyes. 

“Watch your back, Norris,” she whispered. “Say hello to the wall at Turn 1 next week.” 

Lando swallowed thickly, staring at the back of her head as she walked away silently. 

She meant it. 

—

Aurelia was pacing her motorhome, wringing her hands. Max was on her couch, watching his best friend pace around like a caged animal. He took a deep breath, wanting to say something—but Aurelia held her hand up.

“I don’t want to hear it. I don’t care what the stewards said. I’m putting him in the wall next week.” 

Max sighed deeply. They grew up together. Racing karts in Belgium, through F3, school, everything. They have been through hell and back together. Max has seen her like this. Numerous times. She has always meant it.

“Aure, look,” he exhaled, running his hand through his hair. “You can’t just kamikaze Lando and expect the stewards to not slap you with a race ban.” 

“I DON’T CARE, MAX!” She yelled, her voice ringing through the motorhome.

“They won’t give him a penalty! During the meeting with the stewards, he was such an asshole and was so in contempt with almost putting me in the wall!” 

“But Aure, you won’t be able to recover from bulldozing him next week. Your reputation—“

“Is already on thin ice! What is a ‘racing incident’ going to do about it, anyway?” She snapped, grabbing a Coke and chugging it. Max closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“They won’t see it as an incident, Aure. They’ll see it as a suicide mission that you orchestrated,” Max slowly raised his voice. “You will be ending your race and his. Is that what you want? You’re already P4 in the Championship fight. In your 2nd year in F1. Think, please.” 

“Whatever.” She mumbled quietly. Max pressed his lips together. He knew he was getting to her. 

Continuing, he said, “Look, prove him wrong. You’re not a marketing strategy. The whole grid knows that. You overtook me and got your maiden win in F1 last year. We all know you’re capable. Don’t ruin it because of him.” 

Aurelia sighed, looking at her best friend. Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Opening her eyes, she stared at him.

“We’ll see.”

Max groaned, throwing his hair back. 

—

Lando was in his motorhome, staring quietly at the floor. Oscar came in, and saw his teammate in shambles. He sighed and approached the man. Oscar opened his mouth.

“Don’t.” Lando said quietly. 

Oscar closed it.

“I know I shouldn’t have said that. It was sexist and bullshit. I’m just afraid that she’ll actually do it.”

“Do what?” Oscar finally spoke.

“Put me in the wall at Turn 1.”

“Oh. Yeah, she’ll absolutely do it, mate. Remember what happened to Stroll last year?”

Lando winced, remembering how Stroll clipped her front wing during a race. She yelled over the radio, “I’LL FUCKING KILL HIM LATER!” and she shoved him so hard at Parc Fermé, he fell to the ground. She had always meant her threats seriously. 

Lando covered his face in embarrassment. Oscar went up to his teammate and patted his back.

“Just brace yourself, alright? Or qualify P1 or P20 so she won’t be able to get you.” 

Lando looked at Oscar incredulously through his fingers.

“Really? That’s the game plan? Be a coward?” Lando deadpanned.

Oscar shrugged.

“Either that or you get hit. Or…you can always apologise to her.” 

Lando shuddered. 

“Fuck no. I’m not apologising to that witch.” 

“Witch, really?”

“Did you see her hair just now? It was to her waist and it was flying wildly like the wind was on her side!” Lando exclaimed.

“It probably was on her side. You really did push her wide on purpose.” 

Lando gaped.

“I can’t believe you’re defending her.” 

“Would you rather I defend sexist bullshit like you, mate?” Oscar huffed, chuckling at Lando’s reddening face.

“I didn’t mean it, okay!” 

“Then tell her that.” Oscar shrugged, not seeing the big deal about this.

“And get her to punch me?” 

“Either she punches you now, or you kiss the wall next week. Your choice.” 

Lando groaned, covering his face again.

—

Lando stopped right outside her motorhome. The lights are on and he could hear the race replay from just now playing inside. He sighed deeply, running his hand through his curls. He has to do it. Taking a deep breath, he raised a fist to knock on her door. Before he could—

Max opened it and walked out. He froze as he saw Lando standing outside in his McLaren hoodie with his fist raised. Max raised his eyebrows and stared at the McLaren driver.

“Good luck.” 

That was all that Max said before he walked away, back to his motorhome. 

Lando swallowed thickly, pushing the door open. He knocked on it gently. 

“Did you forget something, Max?” Aurelia’s soft voice called out from her bedroom. Lando had never heard her sound so soft before.

“It’s not Max.”

The moment Aurelia heard his voice, she huffed angrily. Storming out of her bedroom, Lando saw her hair flying wildly again. 

Seriously? There’s no wind right now!

He quickly raised his hands in defence, wanting to have a peace talk. Aurelia paused, glaring at him with her arms crossed.

“What do you want, Ramen Head?” She snapped, rolling her eyes tiredly at him. Lando pressed his lips together—trying to not snap at that stupid nickname.

“I just…I want to talk.” He muttered quietly, unable to look at her.

“About?”

“About what I said at Parc Fermé. I…I didn’t mean it.” 

He finally looked up, meeting her sharp gaze. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Get out.” Aurelia said flatly—disinterested in his apology. Lando’s eyes widened.

“W—what?” 

“Get the fuck out of my motorhome.” She repeated quietly, glaring daggers at him.

“I’m trying to apologise! I didn’t mean it I swear, Aurelia!” Lando exclaimed, wanting to get her to see the truth. Aurelia wouldn’t have it.

“GET OUT OF MY MOTORHOME!” She yelled loudly, voice echoing through the space. Lando flinched, stepping back. Sighing quietly, he took a step closer to the exit. Turning back, he whispered, “I really am sorry.” 

“OUT!”

Without saying anything else, Lando quietly shut her door. 

Aurelia stood there, breathing hard. She closed her eyes briefly and shook it off. She has had it with this kid. 

She quickly locked her motorhome door and went to bed.

—

The moment Lando left her motorhome, he shot a quick text to Oscar.

Lando:

I’m qualifying P20.

Oscar:

Ok. Fun.

—

Act II

The next day.

Aurelia and Max sat at their Team Principal’s, Laurent Mekies’ office, silent. Aurelia’s anger is reaching its absolute limit because of Norris. Laurent stared quietly at his drivers. He exhaled deeply and removed his glasses.

“Look, Aurelia,” he spoke quietly, placing his glasses on the table. 

“The FIA said that what you did to Mr Norris at Parc Fermé warrants a hearing.” 

Before Aurelia could open her mouth to retaliate, the older man raised his hand.

“I don’t want to hear it,” he said firmly. Aurelia closed her mouth begrudgingly. 

“They saw the whole Parc Fermé fight and the hearing will be happening later.” 

“That’s ridiculous, honestly! All I did was yank that stupid curly hair of his! Seriously though,” she looked at Max incredulously before continuing, “He’s just a little pussy that hates it when I’m in front of him!” 

Laurent sighed, rubbing his eyes.

“Did you mean what you said?” He asked quietly, staring at her.

Aurelia swallowed.

“When I said what?” 

“That you will put him in the wall next week at Hungaroring.” 

Aurelia went silent. 

“Aurelia.” Laurent stared at her quietly.

“I—I don’t know, okay!” She raised her voice defensively. Max placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. Aurelia exhaled deeply. Laurent simply stared at her.

“Please tell me you won’t actually ruin your own race over something stupid.” 

Aurelia pressed her lips together.

“He apologised to me,” she whispered quietly, looking down at the table. Max’s eyebrows shot up.

“He did?” Max asked quietly, looking at her. She nodded.

“I threw him out of my motorhome after that because it was obvious that he apologised because he didn’t want to die!” Aurelia yelled, not caring who could hear her from the garage outside. 

Max and Laurent sighed simultaneously. Laurent gave Max a silent look. 

Talk to her, please. 

Max silently nodded as Laurent told them to leave his office. He gently held her shoulder supportively as they walked down the corridor. Aurelia’s gaze kept to the floor, ignoring the stares that were coming from the mechanics and engineers. 

“Aurelia.” Max said quietly as they stood at the corridor of the garage, away from the prying eyes. She looked up and stared at him. Max’s breath hitched when he saw the tears in her eyes. He immediately pulled her into a hug. Aurelia sobbed against his chest.

“It really hurt, Max. After all I’ve done to achieve this, he…” 

“Shh…”

Max soothed her, rubbing circles on her back. As he grounded her, he pulled away and looked into her eyes firmly.

“He’s an idiot. It’s not true at all. You are not a marketing strategy. You earned your place here, Aure.” 

Aurelia hiccuped at his words, tears still brimming. Max pulled her back in and soothed her again.

“Do what you must, Aure. But…just think twice, okay?” He whispered softly into her hair, calming her down.

Aurelia muttered something incoherent against his chest and then mumbled, “Okay…” 

Max huffed a laugh and kissed the top of her head gently. 

“Come on,” he said delicately, pulling her arm gently towards the exit. “Let’s get you some ice cream.” 

Aurelia managed a small smile and nodded quickly. Max returned her smile and they walked quietly through the paddock.

—

Lando and Oscar sat at Zak Brown’s office. Lando was just stewing. After Zak told him there’s a disciplinary hearing, he just blocked out everything the older man was saying.

“…Lando? Are you even listening to me?” Zak’s voice cut him away from his own thoughts. Lando sighed, rubbing his face once.

“Yeah.” 

“What did I just say?”

“Something about the hearing.” He mumbled.

“No! I was talking about your words to her at Parc Fermé yesterday!” Zak exclaimed, exhaling deeply at his World Champion.

“This is not the behaviour I expected from my drivers. Especially not you,” Zak said firmly, staring at Lando disappointedly. Lando closed his eyes briefly.

“Do you know what everyone is talking about today? Not your win, not your borderline illegal overtake. They’re talking about your words.” Zak added, sighing quietly at Lando.

“I know, but I didn’t mean it. I apologised to her yesterday but she threw me out!” 

“As she should.” Oscar finally spoke, looking at Lando. Lando groaned, throwing his head back in frustration.

“I really did apologise! And I meant it!”

Zak sighed quietly.

“It’s not the apology that she wants, Lando. Right now, she wants retribution. And you gave it to her on a silver platter.” The older man said quietly, looking at Lando. 

Lando pressed his lips together.

“What can I do?” He finally spoke after a long moment of silence. 

Zak shook his head.

“Go for the hearing. Don’t be an asshole, and apologise again. Before the race next week, pray you don’t kiss the wall.” 

Lando sighed, covering his face in defeat. 

—

FIA Hearing. 

The moment Aurelia, Max, Laurent, and one of the Red Bull Racing’s lawyers entered the room, she felt the atmosphere. It’s suffocating and tense. 

They quietly took a seat on one side of the long table. 

Her shoulders tensed up as she sat down in between Max and their lawyer, Mitchell. Max quietly placed a supportive hand on her right shoulder as she stared at the five FIA officials to her left. As she looked at the empty chairs opposite her meant for Norris and his team, she exhaled quietly, closing her eyes briefly. 

“Keep your head down, okay? I’m right here.” Max whispered encouraging words in her ear. Aurelia bit her lip and looked at her best friend. He kept his gaze at her firmly—unflinching. She nodded and exhaled through her nose. 

The moment Lando, Oscar, Zak Brown, and McLaren Racing’s lawyers entered the room—the atmosphere shifted from tense to ice cold. Aurelia clenched her jaw at the mere sight of him. She turned her head away sharply and simply looked at the FIA officials. 

Max could practically feel the heat radiating off of her. He held her shoulder gently. Aurelia relaxed a fraction, appreciating her friend. 

One of the FIA officials cleared her throat.

“Let’s begin.” 

—

During the hearing, the FIA officials asked for a recount on both incidents from the two drivers. They were only allowed to speak when it’s their turn and Aurelia almost wanted to throw a shoe when Norris said this:

“Genuinely, I locked the rear and accidentally pushed her wide.” 

Aurelia’s eye twitched, but she didn’t retort. She took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, imagining herself pummeling that little fucker to the ground. Max quietly held her arm. She closed her eyes briefly. She hates how well Max knows her. 

The FIA officials looked at Aurelia who had her eyes closed as she tried counting to a thousand. Laurent spoke up instead.

“We looked at the telemetry that McLaren sent to us and there was no evidence of a rear tire lock up.” 

Aurelia opened her eyes.

Looking straight at Lando, she kept her face neutral—and failed.

“Tell the truth, Norris. You did it on purpose. The whole room knows it.” 

Lando huffed defensively, pointing at her.

“You’re the one who was in front of me for 15 laps straight!” 

“It’s called racing, you stunted child!”

“Wha—stunted child?” Lando exclaimed incredulously. “I am one year older than you!”

“THEN ACT LIKE IT!” Aurelia yelled unforgivingly, making Lando freeze. The whole room took a deep breath. Max gently held her arm and tried to get her to sit down. She didn’t realise she was already standing. 

Taking her seat, she seethed quietly. Max gently rubbed her shoulder. Aurelia finally relaxed. Lando’s eye twitched at that scene. He looked away—then snapped his eyes back. 

Lando opened his mouth.

Closed it.

Opened it again.

“Get a grip, Sinclair.”

Max opened his mouth to say something but Aurelia beat him to it.

“YOU SHOULD GET A GRIP! You’ve been in Formula 1 for 7 years and you drive like a rookie!”

Lando scoffed.

“A rookie? A rookie wouldn’t be the World Champion, Pine Cone.” 

Aurelia’s jaw slacked. Standing up, she pointed angrily at Lando who was smirking. 

“THAT WAS ONE TIME!” 

“Still counts. Pine Cone.” 

“YOU BIT—“ 

“May we please take a breath?” The FIA officials said firmly, cutting her words. Aurelia took a deep breath and sat down again. Max closed his eyes and held her arm like an anchor. 

—

They were slapped with €25,000 fines each for ‘Behaviour Misconduct’ and a mandatory ‘FIA counselling session’ with a therapist. Both of them. Before the two drivers could retaliate, the FIA official held her hand up.

“This is not up for discussion. The counselling session is to ensure that this situation does not get out of hand.” 

Aurelia bit her lips together, drawing blood. Lando exhaled angrily, running his hand through his hair. 

She finally spoke up.

“Seriously? €25,000 for grabbing a handful of ramen?” She scoffed derisively, crossing her arms. Lando frowned and opened his mouth to retaliate. Oscar stopped him quickly, making Lando back down. 

As the FIA official read the incident report, both Laurent and Zak face palmed.

“Driver 1 shall be Ms Sinclair and Driver 2 shall be Mr Norris.” 

“Driver 1 repeatedly shoved Driver 2 at Parc Fermé. Driver 1 subsequently grabbed a handful of Driver 2’s hair and pulled it. Driver 2 then shoved Driver 1. Driver 1 called Driver 2 ‘Ramen Head.’”

Lando butted it saying, “Yeah, can we put that in the official record? She’s been calling me that since F2!” 

Aurelia rolled her eyes.

“Because it does look like ramen.” She deadpanned.

Lando’s eye twitched. 

“You should stop tripping over pine cones, Pine Cone.” 

Max and Oscar groaned simultaneously.  

—

Act III

Hungarian GP. 

Aurelia tugged at the collar of her Red Bull team kit, glaring at nothing. The stupid ‘FIA Counselling’ session is in 15 minutes and she’s waiting outside for Norris and the therapist. Max patted her back supportively when she told him that she’s going for it. 

“You’ll be fine, Aure. Just…don’t kill him in there alright? Especially if there’s a witness around.” He said firmly with a small smile, holding her shoulder. Aurelia huffed a laugh.

“Will you help me bury him?”

“Absolutely.” 

Aurelia snapped out of her thoughts as she saw Norris walking in with that Papaya McLaren team kit of his. He had that stupid swagger that made her want to punt him to death. She looked away. 

“Sinclair.” He said quietly.

Aurelia didn’t reply. 

Lando sighed, rubbing his face.

“Aurelia.”

She closed her eyes and opened them. Standing up, she looked at him straight. 

“Don’t call me by my name.” She said quietly, still hurt by his words.

“What am I supposed to call you, then?”

“Anything else.” 

“Why can’t I—“

“Because you’re an asshole!” 

“How was I an asshole?” Lando scoffed defensively, crossing his arms. Aurelia pressed her lips together and exhaled deeply. Ignoring him, she saw the therapist walking into the room and pushed him aside—walking in. 

Lando closed his eyes briefly before walking in. 

Let’s go.

—

Lando sat on one end of the couch, and Aurelia on the other. They looked quietly at their therapist, Dr Elena Voss. She’s a 36 year old lady who looked a little too tense to be a therapist. Maybe the FIA gave her the hot gossip for this session. 

“Alright, let’s begin.” She said professionally, giving the drivers a slight smile. “Let’s start from the beginning. How did you two meet?”

“F3.” They mumbled quietly together. Dr Voss nodded, writing it down. 

“How was your relationship from the get go?” 

This made them freeze. They briefly glanced at each other and kept quiet—looking back at Dr Voss. Dr Voss raised her eyebrows and felt the shift in the atmosphere. After a long moment of silence, Aurelia spoke up.

“He pushed me to the ground.” She said quietly. Lando sighed deeply, closing his eyes. 

“It was an accident, Aurelia.” 

“I told you not to say my name.” She snapped quietly, making Lando flinch. 

Lando looked at Dr Voss quietly.

“It truly was an accident. She was smaller than me, and I accidentally shoulder checked her. She…fell to the ground but I didn’t notice because…” He sighed, rubbing his face.

“Because I was celebrating my win.” 

“I was a stupid 15 year old kid, and she was…14 then.” He added quietly, wringing his hands. Aurelia exhaled deeply.

“You never told me that.” She finally spoke, still not looking at him. Lando pressed his lips together. 

“Well, every time you see me you go straight for the insults.” 

“Deserved.” She muttered.

“Oh for fucks’ sak—“

“Okay, let’s continue from there.” Dr Voss butted in, trying to keep the conversation going somewhere else. 

“Mr Norris, tell me one thing you appreciate about Ms Sinclair’s driving.” 

Lando groaned quietly, turning his head away. He didn’t speak for a moment. Aurelia scoffed silently, expecting him to say some bullshit. 

“Her…” He cleared his throat. “Her defense skills are good.” 

Aurelia’s eyes widened at his words. 

“She defended against Charles at Suzuka very well last year.” He added quietly. 

Dr Voss smiled at his words, nodding appreciatively. She then looked at Aurelia who was staring at Dr Voss’ Monstera as though it held answers to the Universe.

“Ms Sinclair?” 

Aurelia snapped her gaze to Dr Voss.

“Tell me one thing you appreciate about Mr Norris’ driving.” 

Aurelia exhaled through her nose and looked away. 

“He has…good tire management skills.” She said quietly, looking down at her hands. Lando’s eyes widened at her words. He genuinely was expecting her to throw her shoe or an insult at him instead.

“Good. That’s good.” 

The counselling continued. 

—

Aurelia fiddled with the edges of her Red Bull polo, as Dr Voss spoke at the end of the session.

“We will be having this counselling session every week until the month ends. You two are doing better than expected.” 

Lando huffed quietly, looking down. Aurelia looked at the Monstera again. The two of them didn’t speak. 

“I do have an exercise that the two of you should do before our next session.” 

Their heads snapped up at the same time, looking at Dr Voss in surprise.

“During this race weekend, your homework is to have a cup of coffee, and just…talk.” 

Aurelia gaped at her words. Lando frowned. 

“Talk about what?” Lando spoke up, voice slightly shaky.

“Anything at all.” 

“Great.” Aurelia muttered sarcastically, leaning back against the sofa. Lando scoffed quietly.

“She might throw the coffee in my face.” 

“What? Afraid I’ll drench your Ramen Head?” 

Lando threw his hands up in frustration.

“Again with that! Can it, Pine Cone.” He huffed derisively, crossing his arms

Aurelia rolled her eyes.

“Pine Cone is such a stupid nickname.” 

“Would you rather I call you a Frigid Bitch then?”

Aurelia opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Dr Voss beat her to it.

“Lastly, try not to insult each other.” 

“Whatever.” Aurelia mumbled, pulling the edges of her polo.

“Yeah.” Lando muttered, rubbing his neck.

—

Act IV 

Aurelia walked back to the Red Bull garage thinking about the counselling session. Lando was unusually calm and perceptive during the counselling. Aurelia huffed softly and lightly kicked a pebble. She watched it tumble across the floor and briefly closed her eyes. 

She felt a gentle, yet firm and grounding hand on her shoulder. Her lips twitched into a small smile before opening her eyes. 

She looked at her best friend.

“Are you okay? How was the session?” Max asked quietly, squeezing her shoulder gently. Aurelia sighed softly, deliberating for a moment before nodding.

“It was okay, Max. He…said I have great defense skills.” 

Max’s eyebrows shot up. 

“Wow, didn’t expect him to say that. It is true. Your defense skills are one of the best.” 

Aurelia chuckled wryly and rubbed the back of her neck. 

“I told him that his tire management skills are good.” 

“Oh, I'll take it back. I didn’t expect that one!” Max chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. 

Aurelia stared at Max. Max smirked at her reddening face. 

“What? Worried that you had just complimented a Ramen Head?”

“No!” She groaned loudly, trying to hide her face against Max’s chest. 

His chest rumbled as he chuckled lowly, looking at Aurelia who was trying to avoid blushing.

“You can’t hide forever…” Max whispered softly, lightly kissing the top of her head. Aurelia groaned, finally burying her face on his chest.

Max laughed louder.

“Come on, little one. Let’s go…FP1 soon. You can blush in the cockpit.” 

“Jesus.” 

—

After FP1 and FP2 were over, Aurelia stood near her race engineer, Stacey and discussed the race. As they were talking, Max saw Lando hanging outside the Red Bull garage like a lost dog. He cocked an eyebrow and walked to the guy.

Before Lando could turn and walk away, Max called out to him.

“Hey, mate. What are you doing here?”

Lando swallowed thickly, heart racing a little. He took a quick glance at Aurelia and snapped his eyes back to Max.

“Nothing. Just…wondering if…you’d like to get coffee?” Lando asked awkwardly, unsure if he had just shot himself in the foot. Max fully raised his eyebrows—not buying it.

“Me? Or Aurelia?” Max smirked at the reddening McLaren driver. Lando sputtered, huffing incredulously.

“What?” He stuttered. “Yeah, just you! Don’t invite Pine Cone!”

“Mmhm.” Max hummed, not believing him. Lando huffed, running his hand through his curls. 

“There’s just…the therapist told us to have a little chat over coffee. I’m just afraid that she’ll…” Lando trailed off, unsure if he should continue.

“Afraid that she'll do what?” Max pushed.

“Afraid that she’ll pour coffee on me!” Lando blurted, face turning red. Max laughed loudly, not believing his ears. 

“Afraid of that or kissing the wall like she promised?” 

Lando’s eyes widened. He completely forgot about that threat. 

“Both.” He muttered softly, looking down on the floor. 

Aurelia finally approached them. 

“Hey, Max. Ramen Head.” She greeted them easily. Max swiftly put his arm on her shoulder like he always does since they were karting buddies. Aurelia wrapped a comfortable arm on his waist. Lando’s jaw twitched at that movement. He turned away sharply, ignoring the hammering of his heart. 

Why is he feeling this way?

Snapping his gaze back at her, he couldn’t help but notice that Max is now rubbing circles on her arm. He seethed quietly. 

“Are you free?” He asked quietly to Aurelia, voice strained. 

Aurelia blinked.

“Yeah, what’s up? Wanna do the therapy homework?” 

Lando nodded quickly. 

“Yeah. It’s…just the two of us, right?” He asked unsure, eyes darting at Max before going back to her. 

Aurelia hummed, agreeing. 

As she bade goodbye to Max, Lando’s eyes betrayed him by staring at them. Max gently kissed the top of her head and she squeezed his waist in familiarity. Lando’s nose flared fractionally. 

As they both walked towards the Paddock Café, Lando couldn’t help the gnawing question in his heart. 

“Are you two dating?” Lando asked quietly, glaring at the ground. Aurelia laughed, shaking her head.

“God, no. Can you imagine?” 

Lando’s eye twitched.

“So…why does he kiss your head?” He asked quietly.

Aurelia shrugged.

“He’s been doing that since we were kids. Guess it’s just a brotherly thing.” 

“Right. Of course it is.” 

Aurelia noticed his sharp tone.

“Ramen Head, you okay?”

“Yeah.” He replied swiftly—voice clipped.

“Okay…”

—

As Aurelia and Lando sat at the far corner of the paddock café, anyone with a pair of eyes could see how tense they were. Aurelia thrummed her fingers against her coffee cup, looking anywhere else but him. Lando rubbed his sweaty palms on his thighs and pulled at the collar of his McLaren polo. 

“So…” Aurelia broke the silence, looking quietly at him.

“So…”

Aurelia awkwardly looked at her coffee cup and stayed silent. Lando looked at her and bit his lip, hating the silence. He sighed loudly, and threw his head back.

“Jesus, Pine Cone. Say something.” He grumbled softly, sipping his coffee to ground himself. Aurelia scoffed at him.

“I told you not to call me that!”

“You were the one who tripped over a pine cone and fell at the Canadian GP last year,” Lando smirked at her. Aurelia gasped, pointing a finger at him.

“Only because you were doing that weird Irish jig!” 

“Ah, so you were looking at me.” He smirked at her. Aurelia felt her cheeks turning red. 

“How can I not stare at the stupid Championship contender doing a random Irish jig to a Nicki Minaj song?” Aurelia demanded—chuckling softly. 

“Hey, that song demands the Irish jig, okay?” He scoffed defensively, a small smile tugged at his lips. 

“Super Bass?” Aurelia laughed loudly—snorting into her coffee cup.

“IT’S A GOOD SONG, OKAY?” Lando yelled light-heartedly, glaring playfully at her. Aurelia laughed heartily, clutching her stomach.

“Does it warrant an Irish jig, though?” 

“YES!” 

“Sure, Ramen Head. Sure.” 

—

They fell into a comfortable silence, threats and insults left at the door for once. They sipped their coffees calmly, occasionally glancing at each other. Aurelia pressed her lips together, trying not to smile into her coffee cup. Lando cleared his throat, wanting to say something. 

“Wow, look at this! Guess Lando wasn’t bludgeoned to death by the coffee machine.” Their heads snapped up at that sharp, teasing tone of Oscar Piastri. 

“Oscar,” Lando deadpanned. “What are you doing here?” 

“Zak sent me to make sure that you weren’t covered in coffee—or get your head bashed in by the coffee machine.” Oscar said easily, taking a sip of his matcha latte by their table. 

“Well, I’m fine, thank you for asking…” Lando mumbled quietly into his coffee cup, wishing Oscar would just leave the two of them alone. Before Oscar could say anything, Aurelia looked at the time. Almost time for her Engineering briefing. 

Lando saw that look on her face. 

Oh, she’s leaving already. Right.

“I gotta go soon, Engineering debrief. Nice chat, Ramen Head. See you around, Oscar,” she said breezily, grabbing her coffee and walking away. Lando sighed quietly, looking into his coffee cup. A part of him wishes that they could talk a little more.

Oscar saw that look on his teammates face and grinned. 

“You’re down bad for her, aren’t you?” 

Lando turned crimson.

“I’m not!” He threw a napkin at Oscar. Oscar dodged it and laughed heartily.

“Sure. Keep telling yourself that, Ramen Head.” 

“Hey, don’t call me that.” Lando said quietly—voice serious for once.

Oscar raised his eyebrows.

“How come?” 

Lando fidgeted with his polo.

A realisation dawned on Oscar.

“Ah…because only she can call you that. Got it.” 

Lando opened his mouth to retort but before he could, Oscar had already walked out of the paddock café.

—

Act V

Qualifying Day. 

Aurelia qualified P5. 

Lando P4. 

Lando swallowed thickly as he looked at the results. He knows it’s irrational to be afraid of her threat from last week. Especially since they’re becoming more…civil with each other. 

But a man can have fears.

He fidgeted with his racing gloves and chucked it at his table in his driver’s room. He groaned quietly, flopping on his small bed. Oscar didn’t bother knocking on his door. 

“You should have qualified P20. At least pole.” 

“Not now, Osc,” Lando grumbled, his hands covering his face.

Oscar smirked at his teammate.

“No way we can get pole position with our car, mate.” Lando added quietly, sitting up. Oscar nodded simply—agreeing that their cars aren’t the best this year no matter how hard they try. 

“I don’t think she’ll actually do it.” Oscar shrugged, trying to calm him down. Lando’s eye twitched.

“Think? Nah, mate. ‘You think’ and ‘you know’ are two entirely different things.” 

Oscar sighed, sitting on a chair. 

“I mean, she’s no longer insulting you, right?” 

“She called me Ramen Head yesterday! You were there!” Lando exclaimed loudly, covering his eyes.

Oscar chuckled lowly.

“Yeah, but that’s like…I don’t know, a cute pet name or something.” 

Lando’s face flatlined as he stared at his teammate.

“Cute pet name? Are you high on glue, Osc?” 

“It’s true. There’s a difference between how she said it before and now.” 

Lando simply stared at Oscar, slightly gaping at his incredulousness. 

“Bloody hell.” 

—

Aurelia was talking to Stacey when she felt her hat pulled off her head. She whipped her head around and saw Ramen Head standing near the Red Bull garage—chuckling and smirking at her. With her hat in his hands. 

He waved cheekily at her and ran off.

“Hey!” 

She dashed after him, almost colliding with a tire rack. She chased him down the paddock, laughing and screaming.

“GIVE IT BACK, LANDO!” 

“NOPE!”

He laughed wickedly as he weaved through the crowd. Everyone is just pointing and laughing at them. Aurelia laughed and then she almost body slammed George Russell by accident.

“Whoa!”

“Sorry, George!”

She picked up her pace and sprinted closer to him. Lando’s eyes widened when he saw her closing in. He ran into the McLaren garage and Aurelia went after him.

“LANDO GIVE IT BACK!” 

Lando laughed breathlessly, thrusting the cap way above his head. Aurelia huffed and tried reaching for it—and failed. Lando smirked at her as she pushed his shoulder down, trying to grab it. The engineers and mechanics are just looking at these two kids—and filming them.

“It’s mine now.”

“Lando, it’s mine!”

“Finders keepers. Losers weepers.” 

Lando leaned down to her height and lightly flicked her forehead.

“You’re tiny as hell, Pine Cone.”

Aurelia gasped at his words and lightly poked his stomach. Lando doubled over and she took the chance to grab her cap. But Lando had a death grip on it. They’re now wrestling for the cap. Both giggling like idiots. 

Aurelia huffed, giving up. 

“Fine. But watch your back, Ramen Head. Retribution is coming.” She threatened playfully, walking out of the garage with a small smile. 

Lando toyed with her cap and put it on. Oscar pursed his lips and walked up to a grinning Lando.

“Nice hat.” Oscar smirked, looking at Lando’s new Red Bull hat.

“Shut up.”

“Looks familiar.”

“Oscar.”

“Didn’t know Red Bull signed you.” Oscar walked away, leaving Lando who was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

He won this time. 

—

Lando was reading his telemetry data with his engineer, Will. His hat was on the table in front of him. Out of a sudden, he saw it snatched away from the corner of his eyes. He gasped and looked up. 

There stood Pine Cone, wearing his cap proudly like a spoil of war. Lando stood up abruptly—chair screeching. Aurelia smiled brightly at him, teeth all white and shiny—and dashed out of the McLaren garage like it was on fire.

“PINE CONE, THAT’S MINE!” Lando roared, charging after her. Will sighed and sent a text blast to the group chat:

Will:

> They’re at it again 🙄

Zak:

> Are they fighting?

Will:

> Worse.

> Playing catch. 

Zak: 

> 🤦🏻

The moment Aurelia burst into the Red Bull garage, all the mechanics and engineers stared at her wearing the McLaren cap and sighed simultaneously. Someone began playing ‘Kiss It Better’ by Rihanna—loudly. 

Her eyes darted around the room looking for one person—Max. The instant she saw him, she dashed to him, making Max flinch. She hid behind his 6’0 foot self as Lando entered the garage, asking everyone about Aurelia.

“Pine Cone, c’mon! Give me back my hat!” 

Aurelia giggled behind Max silently like a schoolchild. 

Max exhaled silently, rubbing his face and barricading Aurelia from Lando’s view. He shook his head in exhaustion and decided to fuck it. He shifted and before Aurelia could follow him—Lando saw her.

“PINE CONE!” 

Aurelia squealed, actually squealed, and tried running off. Before she could—Lando wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her away. She laughed and kicked as Lando practically carried her out of the garage. 

“LET GO OF ME, LANDO!” 

“NEVER!” 

They chuckled giddily as Aurelia tried to wrestle her way out of his grip. Aurelia managed to dig her heels to the ground, stopping Lando from carrying her further away. As they stood in the middle of the paddock, Aurelia breathed heavily—hand still clutched onto Lando’s hat. 

Lando sighed exhaustedly and placed his hand out to her. Without thinking—Aurelia smacked it gently. Lando gaped. 

“No, you muppet! My hat!” Lando chuckled at her silly self.

“Oh.” 

A beat passed.

“No.” 

Lando pressed his lips together. He tried grabbing it from her hand but she held the cap far away behind her. Lando grunted and tried again and again—almost going around her. Until Aurelia decided to do something dumb.

She held the cap above her head. Lando, being 5’10, simply reached out and plucked the hat from her grasp and smirked. 

Aurelia blinked.

“What?” She looked confusedly as she looked up at her hand. Then she looked at Lando.

“Oh.” 

She sighed quietly—defeated. 

Lando smirked victoriously. 

“I win again, Pine Cone.” 

She blushed softly—embarrassed.

“Shup up, Ramen Head.” She mumbled quietly under her breath.

“Mkay.” 

Lando looked at her reddening cheeks. His heart jolted at the sight. She’s adorable. Annoyingly adorable.

Without thinking—Lando pecked her cheek. His eyes widened as he realised what he had done. Aurelia’s jaw slacked at his kiss. Before she could say anything else—Lando sprinted away from her as though she’s fire. 

Aurelia blinked.

What the fuck was that?

—

Without them knowing, at least 15 people were filming them during the whole ‘Hat War.’ They’re already trending on all social media platforms. The entire grid sent non-stop memes and texts to the drivers’ group chat, making Aurelia’s phone vibrate non-stop—it fell off the table. 

She was in her motorhome, looking at the video of them. She face palmed and continued watching through the gaps of her fingers. They looked…

I don’t know.

Aurelia sighed, tossing her phone away and flopping down on the sofa. Her fingers gently brushed against the spot Lando pecked. Without her realising it, she’s already blushing. Aurelia closed her eyes—trying to get some rest before the ground swallowed her.

Someone knocked twice and entered her motorhome. 

Without opening her eyes, she said, “Max, not now.” 

The Dutch driver sighed quietly, sitting on the sofa she’s laying on. 

“It’s not that bad, honestly.” 

Aurelia’s eyes snapped open—staring at Max.

“Aren’t you a straight-forward guy? Why are you lying?” She huffed quietly, looking away from him.

“I’m not lying, Aure,” he said quietly, looking down at her. “It just seemed like…two people who genuinely enjoyed being around each other. It doesn’t have to be more than that.” 

Aurelia exhaled, running her hand through her long black hair. She covered her face and sat up, looking at Max. She pressed her lips together and face-landed on his shoulder.

Max’s shoulder was strong and broad, which she appreciates. Should always have friends who are well built. 

“He pecked my cheek.”

“I know,” Max said delicately, gently rubbing her head. Aurelia sighed contently against his shoulder, appreciating his touch. 

“How did you feel after he did that?” Max asked softly, looking down at her.

“…Good. Or…bad. I—I don’t know,” she grumbled softly against his shoulder. Max chuckled lowly, his shoulders jostling her a little. Aurelia looked up from him and frowned.

“What?” She demanded softly, not raising her voice. Max shrugged.

“Okay. Let me rephrase the question.” He said quickly, looking firmly at her.

“Don’t think, answer it in a second.” 

Aurelia wanted to fight against it—but nodded.

“Sure.”

“Okay. Did the peck feel good? 3, 2,—“

“Yes.” 

Max raised his hands up in victory.

“I rest my case.” He smiled brightly at her cowering figure on the sofa

“Bloody hell.” 

—

Act VI (finale) 

One might think that after the ‘Hat War’ went down, both Aurelia and Lando would be…together. Or at least friendlier. 

Nope. 

Somewhere between Aurelia’s meltdown in her motorhome and Lando’s panic stewing in his—the two of them came to a stupid conclusion.

Double down and make it worse. 

They barely acknowledged each other. They spent the entire before and after the race standing away from each other. Heck, even Aurelia didn’t do well with her last week’s threat and shot past him like a bullet—leaving him behind. When Aurelia crossed the line in P2, and Lando P3, they barely sprayed each other during the champagne celebration. It’s entirely odd. It’s as though they’re back to who they were before the counselling session. 

One time, Lando accidentally shoulder checked Aurelia and before he could process it, she had already shoved him roughly, almost making him stumble. 

“Watch it, Norris. Flat ass motherfucker.” 

“What the fuck?” 

—

Aurelia genuinely doesn't know why she’s behaving this way. She told herself she’s protecting herself from doing something stupid like falling in love with Ramen Head, or even worse—falling in love with an unrequited Ramen Head. Max promptly told her that she’s being an idiot (thanks, Max) and that a guy wouldn’t kiss a girl’s cheeks if he’s into her.

Aurelia scoffed at him.

“You kiss my head all the time!” 

“Yeah. I kiss Victoria’s head too.” Max deadpanned. Aurelia closed her mouth. Can’t argue with that. Max does kiss his sister’s head often. Just brotherly affection.

Aurelia groaned, tossing her head back in denial.

Fuck.

—

Lando went on a downward spiral. After he kissed her cheek, he sprinted straight to his motorhome and decided to fuck care about McLaren’s engineering meeting. He was on his sofa, head in his hands—rocking silently. Oscar entered his motorhome without knocking and sighed at the sight of his teammate spiralling.

“Lando.” 

“Not now, mate.” 

Oscar groaned softly, flopping on the sofa beside him. 

“What happened?” 

“You saw it.” 

“Yeah, but I want your perspective,” Oscar said calmly, looking at his teammate and friend.

“I—I kissed her cheek.” 

“Uh-huh. Why?”

“She was blushing,” Lando answered quickly—his face turning crimson as well. Oscar pursed his lips slightly and nodded.

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Lando frowned. 

“Yeah. What do you want me to say?” 

“I—I don’t know! What should I do now?” 

“Just talk to her, mate. Tell her the truth or something.” Oscar answered quietly, looking out the motorhome.

“What truth? That…that I want to make her laugh and smile like that for the rest of my days? Or that her brilliant green eyes are so shiny and beautiful that I forget my words?” Lando said quickly—fidgeting with his McLaren polo. 

Oscar gaped. 

“Well, not entirely like that but a gist of it.” 

“No.” Lando said firmly, shaking his head repeatedly.

“What?” 

“No. No. No. No! She would spit in my face, mate! I’m not doing it.” 

Oscar face palmed.

“She’s not going to spit—“ 

“I don’t care!” 

—

It was quite bad. The entire grid has officially placed bets on either: 

Lando’s death

Aurelia’s death

Lando and Aurelia making out

Everyone had opinions. The poll was done by George Russell who claimed to be the ‘Number 1’ of Aurelia and Lando’s budding romance. All because Aurelia body slammed onto him whilst chasing after Lando.

Max scoffed loudly and shook his head. 

“Nah, mate. That’s me.” 

Oscar scoffed and said, “Nah. Me.” 

Oscar and Max stared at each other and pointed at one another.

Huh. 

The entire grid and paddock has had it with those two. Lando was trying his best to not think about her and Aurelia was trying her best to come up with more insults to throw at his face. 

Until—Oscar Piastri and Max Verstappen (and most of the Red Bull and McLaren) came in. 

Bless them.

“Hey, Aurelia. I need your help with something. Could you help me take the tire pressure readings in the back room?” Stacey, her engineer, said sheepishly—a little shy to be troubling her. 

Aurelia didn’t think much about it.

“Sure! One sec!”

She got up and quickly went to the back room of the garage. The walkway was quiet, as it always is. But for some reason, it felt a little strange. The second she’s nearing the room, she feels someone shove her from the back. That person quickly slammed the door shut.

She stumbled into the room—almost crashing into the table. But someone caught her quickly. She looked up. 

Lando. 

“What the—“

Max’s voice from behind the door cut her off.

“Okay, you two. Kiss and make up. Or kill each other. Either way, I’m getting my €100.” 

Aurelia’s eyes widened like saucers.

Lando sighed quietly because he had already gone through this phase five minutes ago.

“WHAT THE FUCK!” Aurelia screamed—voice booming across the room and garage. 

“You got this.” Oscar’s voice piped through, entirely supportive. 

“Please don’t hurt each other.” Both Zak and Laurent’s voice chimed in—tired. 

“WHAT THE FUCK?!” 

—

Aurelia sat down on the table, glaring daggers at Lando. She couldn’t think straight. All she could think about is finding ways to get out of this room. There’s no air vents so she can’t crawl through it like John McClane, no windows either. 

Who the fuck invented this room?

Lando was still standing, staring at the door as though willing it to open by itself. He closed his eyes briefly, wondering what on Earth made him agree to this plan in the first place. The moment he was shoved in this empty room with Max and Oscar barricading the exit—he was stunned. They explained to him their plan and a part of him wonders what could happen here. 

He looked at her staring at the white walls and sighed quietly. He took a deep breath and spoke.

“Aurelia.” He muttered quietly, the room’s acoustics making his voice sound louder than necessary. 

Her head snapped away from the wall and into his eyes.

“What?” 

Lando ran his hand through his curls. 

He laughed once—unable to think of what to say.

“What are we doing here, Lando?”

“I…I think they want us to talk.” 

“About?”

“Us.” 

Aurelia scoffed at his answer, unable to believe her ears.

“There’s no ‘us.’”

“Do you believe that?” 

Aurelia went silent. Her head was running through all the potential possibilities of them going through this without yelling.

“No.” She answered immediately before she could stop herself.

Lando exhaled, shoulders dropping a fraction. Aurelia pressed her lips together, eyebrows pulled in.

“Why did you do that?” She asked quietly under her breath.

“Do what?” 

“Kiss my cheek.” 

Lando swallowed thickly and looked away from her. He’s not sure if he should answer this. Not sure if she would spit in his face. He looked back at her and felt a certain resolve settling in her bones.

“Because you looked adorable. When you blushed.” He said with a sigh. Aurelia’s eyes widened. She has never heard that adjective come out of his mouth before. Heck, she has never heard it from a man before. 

“Adorable? Me?”

“Yes.” 

“Me who wanted to put you in the wall a week ago?” 

“Yes.” 

“Me who called you a flat ass yesterday?” 

Lando barked out a laugh. 

“Yes.” 

“Huh.” 

A moment of silence settled between them as Lando’s confession hung in the air. Aurelia took a deep breath and stood up. Lando’s spine straightened, waiting for the spit. Aurelia walked up to him and looked into his hazel eyes. He deliberated for a moment and matched her gaze.

It was soft.

Lando took a deep breath.

“You’re still a Ramen Head.” She chuckled quietly, two fingers lightly tugging at his curls. Lando smiled wryly, nodding.

“Fine. I’m a Ramen Head. And you’re still a Pine Cone.” He said huskily, eyes glancing at her lips before she could catch him.

She caught him. Her breath hitches as she gently tugged the hair at his nape. Lando breathed shakily as his eyes fluttered shut—embracing this sensation. 

Aurelia glanced at his lips. Her lips parted slightly as she took a shuddering breath. She swallowed thickly and closed the gap between them. 

The moment her lips met his, Lando’s world flipped over entirely. He made a small sound before wrapping his arms around her small waist and pulled her in closer to him—breathing in her vanilla scent that has been making him crazy. As their lips tangled with each other, soft moans slipped out of them. 

Lando lightly pushed her against the table and swiftly placed her on top of it. As he slid between her opened legs, he grabbed the back of her neck and deepened the kiss. Aurelia made a small sound and pulled him closer by his nape. 

After a while, they could hear Max’s voice coming through the door.

“Hey, Oscar? Do you have bolt cutters for this door? I think Aurelia choked Lando out.” 

The two of them pulled away immediately—face flushed. Aurelia looked up at him as she bit her lip. Lando growled softly at the sight and pulled her in for another searing kiss. The second he pulled away, he huskily said, “Don’t bite your lip like that, Pine Cone.” 

“Why not?” 

“Makes me crazy.” 

Aurelia bit her lip again—this time on purpose. Lando exhaled deeply and pulled her in, hands gripping tight against her Red Bull polo. Aurelia moaned softly as she tugged at his McLaren polo, tasting him on her tongue. 

Before they could continue, the door slammed open. Max looked at them with a smile as they pulled away—cheeks flushed. 

“Ah. Finally, Oscar, my €100, thanks.” Max said victoriously, staring at Oscar who begrudgingly gave him the money.

“Nice to know that you two won’t be giving away your money to FIA fines anymore. Now, half the grid owes us money.” Max smirked—fist bumping a smiling Oscar.

“You bet on us?” Aurelia and Lando said simultaneously.

“Thought it was a joke!” Aurelia exclaimed, not believing her ears.

“You bet.” 

—

Max and Oscar stood by the doorway, completely unfazed by the death glares targeted at them. Max was casually flipping through his €100 notes, looking like a man who just won in Monaco. 

“Still can’t believe you bet on us,” Lando grumbled quietly, adjusting his team kit and carrying Aurelia down from the table. Aurelia smoothened out her messed up hair and looked up at her now slightly livid boyfriend. 

He looks so hot angry.

She bit her lip softly and blushed. Lando saw the look on her face and felt his heart melting. He smiled softly at her and gently kissed her head. She gasped softly, looking up at him. His kiss on her head was so soft and loving that she could feel herself falling for him even harder. 

“Don’t do that, Ramen Head,” she mumbled, unable to speak louder due to sheer embarrassment. Lando hummed, shaking his head.

“I’ll always do that.” 

Max and Oscar stared openly at them like a zoo exhibit. Lando gave them a pointed look and they cleared their throats, walking away from the room. 

“Since we have nothing else to do, do you…want to get dinner later?” He asked lowly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Aurelia smiled brightly and nodded. 

“Sounds good.” 

“I’ll make a reservation at an Italian place. Dress up, okay?” He muttered softly, placing a soft kiss on her cheek. Aurelia’s face turned crimson.

“I’ll wear something pretty, Ramen Head.” 

“You’d better, Pine Cone.” 

—

Aurelia smoothened out her red dress as she stood outside the restaurant—Monti—at 7pm. She adjusted her white gold encrusted diamond hoop earrings and bit her lip nervously. The moment she heard Lando’s car parked at the valet, she turned her head. 

He was in a nice light blue button down, wearing a loose blazer. She pressed her lips together to stop herself from smiling too much.

“Hey.” She said shyly, looking up at her boyfriend. Lando’s heart stirred quietly as he looked at how beautiful she was. The red dress hugged her figure perfectly and those earrings…wow.

As they sat down in their private booth, Lando smiled softly at her. He still can’t believe his eyes that Aurelia is now his girlfriend. Aurelia calmly sipped a glass of sparkling water and lemon that the waiter produced, grounding the war drum of her heart. 

 “I have to admit something.” Aurelia whispered softly, getting even shyer by the minute. Lando’s eyebrows shot up—intrigued.

“What’s up?”

“This is…my first time on a date in a very long time.” 

Lando chuckled lightly, gently holding onto her hand across the table.

“Me too.” 

Aurelia’s shoulder relaxed a fraction at his admission. Lando smiled brightly at her, dimples showing. She always liked seeing his dimples. She lightly blushed, making Lando’s heart stop.

“You’re very cute.” They said simultaneously at each other—making each other laugh lightly. Lando wiped a hypothetical tear and lightly kissed her knuckles. 

“We’re so down bad for each other.” 

“We are.” 

As the night continued, their conversation flowed smoothly. No insults or curses hurled at each other for once in their long history. Aurelia no longer wants to threaten death to him, and he no longer thinks she’s a witch with long black hair that had the power of a Wind God by her side. 

The night slowed down naturally, wine glasses emptied as their conversation continued. 

“I still can’t believe you wanted to put me in the wall.” Lando chuckled softly at her. 

Aurelia barked out a laugh. 

“To be fair, you almost put me in the wall. I was just…returning the favour.” She shrugged easily, sipping her water. Lando hummed, agreeing.

“Well, that was just my ego. I no longer want to do that. You’re a very talented driver, my love.” 

Aurelia’s breath hitched at his pet name for her. 

My love. 

Aurelia smiled softly and kissed his knuckles.

“So are you, World Champ.” 

Lando’s heart swelled at her pet name for him. As they looked at each other, they knew one thing. Of all the pet names they could potentially have, Pine Cone and Ramen Head takes the cake.

Always. 

-final author's note-

and that’s it! i hope everyone enjoyed reading that. i thoroughly enjoyed writing it. ngl, been struggling so much at work. nurse things, honestly. otherwise, everything is going great! also, requests are open! stay safe and enjoy life!

Act I

Elena fidgeted with her veil, face scowling at the mirror. She sighed defeatedly, flopping onto the sofa of her bridal suite. Her mother, three sisters, and her best friend were milling around, preparing her for the wedding. Elena took a long sip of the vodka Stacey, her maid of honour and best friend, prepared for her.

Arranged marriages suck. What’s even worse is the fact that she’s going to marry some random guy she barely knows. Standing up, she felt a certain resolve settling in her bones. Everyone’s heads snapped up.

Oh no.

Before anyone could react, she’s already climbing out of the bridal suite window, trying to escape. The wind was blowing against her. As she looked down, she could see a trellis that leads down to the ground floor from their third floor.

“ELENA STOP! DON’T DO THAT!”

“WHY NOT?!” She roared, dress and veil flapping dramatically against the wind. Everyone’s hands were trying to grab her, pulling her back to the room.

“LET ME GO!!”

“NO!” They all chorused in unison, dragging her back kicking and screaming. Her hair flying around crazily, dress slightly wrinkled, and veil stuck on the window latch.

Her mother, Lilian Voss sighed and rubbed her temples tiredly.

“Elena, please. You know this marriage will be good for our family. We have already signed the contract with the Norris family.”

“Yeah, without my consent!” Elena retorted.

She stood up quickly again. Everyone’s breaths hitched.

“Relax. I just need some air,” she said quietly, walking out of the bridal suite, her dress flapping like a white bat. She walked down the hallway of the Norris mansion like a woman on a mission.

Find a smoking spot.

—

The moment she found a quiet spot near the garden that also had an ashtray, she took out her cigarette case and lit one with ease. Taking a long drag, she sighed. This is a nightmare. She’s going to marry some random guy named Norris. Yeah, she doesn’t even know the fella’s first name. It’s that bad.

According to Mira, one of her sisters, he’s a driver for Formula 1. She has no idea why her parents thought a race car driver was good for her. She’s an English Literature professor, for fuck’s sake. She analyses Shakespeare, Dostoyevsky, and so many more literary authors. Not racing lines.

She leaned her head back against the garden bench. The smoke curled at her fingertips as she took another drag. Without her realising it, a group of men were walking in the garden. They seemed panicked. Elena’s head perked up at their voices. She was hidden by the bushes surrounding her.

“Lando, please. You can’t run mate.” A deep voice with a Spanish accent spoke up.

“Carlos, I’m not running. I just…I need some air.” She peeked through the bush and saw a tanned, curly haired man sighing. He ran his hand through his curls as he continued speaking.

“I don’t even know the woman, guys.” He muttered quietly, kicking a dried leaf tiredly. So this Lando guy is her groom. But Elena wasn’t paying attention to him. She was staring at the blonde one. Blue eyes, intense gaze.

Very handsome.

Her attention piqued when the blonde one spoke.

“Just run, then. Who cares? If not, suck it up and marry her. Get to know her,” he shrugged, looking straight at Lando. Lando sighed.

Elena appreciates how straightforward he is. He doesn’t…beat around the bush.

“Max, I just…” Lando sighed, rubbing his face.

“I miss Aurelia.”

Max sighed, rubbing his face.

“You mean your ex-girlfriend whose heart you broke because of this arrangement?”

Lando nodded.

Ah, his name is Max.

And Lando has a girl for him.

Elena’s brilliant green eyes stared at Max. He’s tall, well built, and strong.

Without saying anything, she snuck out the other way and went back to the bridal suite.

She has a plan.

—

Elena slammed open her bridal suite doors, startling everyone. Her mother ran up to her and sighed when she smelled the cigarette scent on her. Before she could say anything, Elena butted in saying, “I want to see the contract. Now.”

Her mother sighed, and took it out from the drawer. Elena grabbed it, skimming through it. She read a clause that made her smile devilishly.

If either the groom or bride refuses to marry each other, they must find a replacement within the same day and hour. That person they chose will have to agree regardless of what they think.

Oh, this will be fun.

-

Act II

The Norris Mansion is ridiculously huge for a family of five. The mansion is decorated like an old castle. Some knights lined the corridors, oil paintings of their ancestors. Heck, even the hall they’re getting married at has a knight with a sword.

Elena whispered something into Stacey’s ear. Stacey’s eyebrows shot up and went to work without questions. Elena nodded appreciatively, adjusting her veil as her makeup artist fixed her smudged makeup. She whipped out her phone and looked for ‘Max F1 driver guy.’

Her lips curled into a small smile as she looked at the results. Four World Championship titles, aggressive on track, blunt, straightforward. She quietly stashed her phone away as she thrummed her fingers against the chair, excited.

Her makeup artist is done with her. Stepping back, she looked at Elena’s look proudly. Her makeup is subtle but sharp. It enhanced Elena’s brilliant green eyes and it made her jet black hair pop even more. She looked magnificent.

Her plan is going to be fantastic.

—

As Elena stood outside the hall with her father, Joseph Voss, she took a shuddering breath. Her heart was running a mile a minute. Her father looked down and his eyes softened at the sight of his nervous daughter. He tucked a strand of hair behind Elena’s ear and kissed her temple lovingly.

“You will be fine, my sweet girl. I heard Lando is a good man,” he said reassuringly. Elena’s eyes darted to the side quickly, looking at Stacey. Stacey locked eyes with her and nodded imperceptibly.

Yeah, he is a good guy too.

Elena exhaled in relief and nodded at her father. The older man’s shoulders relaxed a fraction.

The groomsmen arrived. Three of them. Carlos, a man she didn’t see earlier, and Max. Elena’s eyes darted towards Max and before he could catch her gaze, she turned away. Her heart was hammering even faster now.

The wedding processional began. The bridesmaids walked down the aisle with the groomsmen. Stacey was with Max, who apparently is Lando’s best man. As they walked down the aisle, Elena’s grip on the bouquet tightened.

It’s time.

—

The moment Elena and her father walked down the aisle, everyone in the audience gasped quietly. She looked radiant. The sunlight catching her perfectly, a halo of light surrounding her as she locked eyes with Lando. Her jet black hair shining bright under the sun and her green eyes were shining. Lando was stunned speechless, Lando stared at her sheer beauty. He blinked twice. But he looked away quickly, thinking about Aurelia. He misses her like mad.

Lando took a deep breath as her father gave her away.

The older man whispered to Lando, “Take good care of her, son.”

Lando swallowed thickly and nodded tersely. Her father returned the nod and placed Elena’s hands in Lando’s. As they held hands, Elena looked up at him. Their palms were sweaty as they gazed at each other. Elena’s eyes darted away to the officiant, one of Lando’s uncles.

The older man cleared his throat. Everyone went silent.

“Dearly beloved, we are gathered here today to celebrate the union of Lando Kinder Norris and Elena Jacqueline Voss.”

As the man continued talking, Elena swallowed thickly as her heart pounded against her chest. Lando looked at her tense gaze at the officiant and felt a certain twist in his chest. He knew she wanted to do something. He has no idea what her plan was but she looked…certain.

“Before we begin, is there anyone who objects to this union? Speak now, or forever hold your peace.”

Elena’s breath hitched.

Silence from the audience.

And then—

“I object!” Elena said loudly as she closed her eyes tightly.

Everyone gasped. Lando’s mother shrieked. Her mother gaped openly. Lando’s mouth fell open as she pulled her hand away from him. Finding courage, her beautiful gown swished as she pushed past the officiant and went to the table behind him where Stacey had stashed the contract and a sword. Everyone looked curiously at what she’s doing and gasped when they saw her holding the sword.

Taking a deep breath, she brandished the sword at Max. The Dutchman’s eyebrows shot up, looking at her with sheer horror in his face.

“I WANT THAT ONE!” She yelled loudly as she pointed the sword at Max. She then thrusted the contract to Lando’s uncle. Max’s face was pale. Lando was just gaping openly and looked at his best man who was trying to find words to say. Elena kept her gaze on Max, unflinching. Max was blinking repeatedly, wishing this was a dream.

It wasn’t.

“Elena! Stop what you’re doing!” Her mother hissed from the audience. Lando’s uncle read the highlighted portion that Stacey bracketed.

His uncle cleared his throat.

“Uhm…it says here that ‘If either the groom or bride refuses to marry each other, they must find a replacement within the same day and hour. That person they chose will have to agree regardless of what they think.’ So…Mr Verstappen, you’re up.”

Silence.

And then…

Chaos.

—

“WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?!” Cisca, Lando’s mum, shrieked, running up to Lando’s uncle snatching the contract and reading it. As she read it, her face went from anger to sheer horror. Elena still had the sword pointed to Max. She smirked at him with a playful glint in her eyes. Max was dumbfounded.

He woke up today thinking he’s just going to be Lando’s best man. And now? He has to marry this scary woman.

The entire audience is just gaping and whispering. Some were filming the drama.

Lando is completely frozen. He stared at his bride—well, Max’s bride now—and pressed his lips together. Elena caught his gaze. She sighed and went up to him, whispering, “I know about Aurelia.”

Lando sighed deeply, running his hand over his styled curls. He took a deep breath and looked at Elena for a long time. She had a steely gaze and he huffed softly.

“Thank you.” He mumbled softly, hugging her tight.

Max, on the other hand, is completely pissed. He finally snapped out of his freeze frame and snapped.

“This is ridiculous! Who the fuck wrote this contract?” He exclaimed, snatching the contract from Cisca and reading it.

“The lawyers and…me,” Cisca sighed dejectedly.

He laughed once and threw it back to Lando’s uncle. Stepping up to Elena, who was smiling like she won the jackpot, he groaned softly.

“You’re—“ he laughed once, rubbing his face in defiance.

“You’re impossible.”

Elena smirked.

“I know. And now…you’re mine,” she shrugged simply, fluffing her dress. Max gaped at her. The audacity of this woman.

“What the fuck?”

“Hi, husband.” Elena waved her hand cheekily at him.

-

Act III

Max was pacing the honeymoon suite at the Norris Mansion. Elena was calmly sitting down on the couch, sipping champagne and watching this Dutchman pace like a caged animal.

The ceremony was nothing short of awkward. Elena, smiling brightly and declaring ‘I do’ as though she just married the love of her life. And Max mumbled it because this was the most bizarre situation he has ever been through.

The wedding reception was even worse. Lando was happily dancing to love songs because he could finally go back to the love of his life. The sheer sight of Lando dancing happily to Whitney Houston’s ‘I Wanna Dance With Somebody’ made Elena smile happily. When they called Max and Elena for a couple’s dance, Max practically dashed out of the reception hall. Elena was happily sipping champagne then too.

“Champagne?” She asked casually, holding up the bottle. Max stared at her for a long moment. Elena held his gaze unflinching. It’s clear to Max that she was enjoying this.

“Are you genuinely okay? You do know that you just forced a random man to marry you, right?” He deadpanned, staring at this unnerving woman.

Elena shrugged.

“You do know that we can get an annulment any time, right? The only reason why I wanted to marry you was because you intrigued me,” she sighed simply as she placed her feet on the table in front of her. She fluffed her wedding dress and fixed her veil.

“I…intrigued you? What the fuck?” Max exclaimed, rubbing his face once. Elena hummed.

“Besides, Lando clearly has his heart for another woman. You’re single, not emotionally attached to anyone, and…you’re hot.” She said simply.

Max gaped.

“H—hot? You married a random man you don’t know because he’s hot? Are you—“ He exhaled, pressing his fingers on his eyes.

“Are you of sound mind?”

Elena scoffed defensively.

“Yes I am. I know what I want. I want you. Problem?”

Max has never met such an infuriating woman. He pressed his lips together.

“Problem? Problem? YES THERE’S A PROBLEM! What if I don’t want you?!” He yelled as he glared at this woman, patience reaching its limit. Elena smirked.

“If you don’t want me, you would have rejected the marriage.” She smirked at his reddening face.

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

—

Max has officially collapsed on the sofa beside her—defeated for once. Elena sighed contently, holding onto the bottle of champagne. Max took a long look at her and she met his gaze. Her brilliant green eyes pierced through his ocean blue ones. There’s a playful glint in her eyes. Max sighed and looked away.

Max has never met someone with so much audacity. She practically saw him for a second and married him. She’s straightforward—which Max begrudgingly respects. And she knows what she wants, she doesn’t play games. This is a new arena for Max. He was so used to women playing around him, only wanting him for their own fame.

“I’m getting the annulment tomorrow,” he muttered quietly—weak.

Elena smirked.

“Weird. I thought as a Four Time World Champion you don’t skirt away from obstacles? Didn’t you get from the pitlane to the podium at the Brazilian Grand Prix last year?”

Max winced at her jab. He hated how well she knew about him. And he doesn’t know the first thing about her apart from the fact that her entire being is the presence of sheer audacity.

“Shut up.” He muttered weakly again.

Elena’s smirk widened even more.

“Make me, husband.”

Max groaned loudly, head flopping backwards.

Fucking hell.

—

Elena sighed, standing up. She looked at Max who was looking at her tiredly. Gesturing to her hundred buttons, she smiled at him. She swiftly moved her long jet black hair to one side.

“Unbutton me, hubby,” she said cheekily. Max gaped at her words and stared at her for a long time. He sighed, knowing she will never back down and unless he wants her to wear that damned dress till she dies, he has to help her.

He stood up begrudgingly. As he stood up, Elena’s smirk widened. As Max quietly unbuttoned the hundred buttons of her dress, he couldn’t help but look at her exposing back. Her skin was alabaster. He stared at her back quietly. Elena felt his stare and smirked widely.

“Like what you see?” Elena said flirtatiously. Max’s fingers froze at the last button.

“No.” He deadpanned.

“You will.” She shrugged easily.

Max exhaled deeply.

This woman.

—

The next morning, Elena woke up refreshed. She stretched happily on the King sized bed and sighed contently. Max had a rough night’s sleep. He chose the couch and it’s not suitable for a person his height. He groaned, feeling his muscles aching. His eyes darted to the happy Elena and scowled.

“Had a good sleep?” He begrudgingly asked his wife. Elena sat up with a dopey smile and nodded.

“Yep! You can’t complain though. You’re the one who chose the couch.”

Max looked away.

“Because I don’t want you to like…cuddle me or something,” he muttered quietly. Elena laughed loudly, startling him.

“Please! If I wanted to cuddle, I would have coerced you. Besides, I’m not that kind of woman.”

Max rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, keep rolling your eyes at me, handsome. Won’t change the fact that I got you.” She smiled triumphantly. Max gaped, staring at her. He is still getting used to her audacity.

“Whatever.” He mumbled tiredly.

Elena’s smile widened.

-

Act IV

Elena’s parents gifted them a beautiful villa in Monaco two days after their wedding. The day they moved in, Max gaped at the sheer size of it. The villa is genuinely too big for two people. Until Elena said something that made Max either want to run into active traffic or just legitimately do it just to spite her.

“You know, we can always fill it up with kids.”

Max stared at her for a very long time. He closed his eyes briefly.

“How many kids do you want?” He asked quietly, looking at her bright smile.

“Maybe 11.” She smirked, clearly joking.

“11?!” Max yelped.

“Are you trying to build a football team?!”

Elena shrugged.

“Maybe. Your job is simple. Just pump and dump. I’m the one bearing them and delivering them so…”

“NO! NOT 11 KIDS!”

“Fine! Three then.”

“Fine!”

Elena’s smile widened, knowing she won this round. Again.

—

For the next month, they’re slowly getting to know each other.

Max knows she likes her tea neat, and Elena knows he likes his with a cube of sugar. Max has finally agreed to sleep on the same bed as her and by the fourth night, the ‘pillow wall’ was completely demolished. By him.

They usually spend their days separately. Elena reads Dostoyevsky's Crime and Punishment at the sofa in the mini library room, while Max does his sim racing right next door. They’ll occasionally check in on one another, making sure the other is alive or to see if the person wants some tea or food.

In the first few days, their time was spent with Elena teasing him relentlessly by calling him so many pet names, and Max recoiling so much that one might think she’s tickling him physically. Elena cooked dinner one time and Max was still not home. She called him.

“Hello, my honey bunch!” Elena chirped over the phone.

Max groaned.

“Yes?” He mumbled quietly. Elena could hear that he’s out on the street from the background.

“I cooked dinner. Are you coming home or should I just feed the truffle risotto to Jimmy and Sassy?”

Max huffed softly, running his hand through his hair. Jimmy and Sassy were his cats. They came along on their first day at the villa and it’s obvious that the cats appreciated such a cozy home. Max’s former Monaco apartment is a little too…bare and borderline clinical. They also love Elena. Sometimes they will approach Elena at her library and curl up on her lap and shoulder while she reads.

“I’m coming home. Just…don’t start without me, okay?” Max said with a sigh.

“Ugh. Fine, hubby! Just be quick okay? I’m hungry.”

“I’m coming.”

Without saying anything else, he hung up the phone.

—

They didn’t tell anyone but during week two, they consummated the marriage. Max told her that it’s just a one time thing because there’s no way they’re doing it again.

“Just this once, okay?” He mumbled under his breath, trying his best to look at her face and not her exposed breasts. He was seated on the edge of their bed, and she was wearing a silk robe.

“You’ll see.” Elena whispered flirtatiously, slowly walking up to him. Max swallowed thickly, keeping his gaze on her face until he couldn’t anymore because his neck began hurting. Elena chuckled softly at his reddening face. She coyly brushed his hair back.

“Aww…is the baby a little shy?” She cooed softly, purposely making Max cringe. Max sneered a little at her words and felt a certain tug in his chest. He stood up abruptly, and they’re now chest to chest.

Elena smirked at his intense gaze. She really wants him to snap. To really take control. Wordlessly, Max’s hands shot out and gripped her waist tight.

“You really enjoy messing with me, hm?” He growled quietly, digging his fingers into her soft skin. Elena breathed out small huffs of breath when Max tilted her hair back and began kissing and marking her neck.

“I’m going to teach you a lesson, Princess. And you’re going to take it.”

Elena’s smirk widened.

Oh, yes.

—

The next month, Max entered the paddock of the Spanish GP with a quiet sigh. His gold wedding band caught the sunlight as he adjusted the strap of his bag. The entire world of Formula 1 exploded when they saw the video of Elena brandishing a sword at Max and demanding that she wants him. Apparently someone at the wedding posted it. He has received hundreds of congratulatory and even condolence texts. Particularly from the grid.

Charles texted him saying he laughed. George asked if this was staged, Kimi asked him if she’s nice to him, and Oscar even said, “Congrats? Condolences? Not sure which applies.”

He even received a text from Lando that almost made him throw his phone against a wall. Lando simply sent a photo of him and Aurelia at a beach in Boracay with a caption that said ‘Thanks for taking one for the team! Best best man ever!’

Max didn’t even tell Elena where he’s going. He just said he’s ‘off to work’ and left the house. He even made sure that she doesn’t even know that it’s a race weekend. He took lots of measures to ensure that.

So please somebody, anybody, tell him why and how the fuck is his wife waving at him in a sundress in the middle of the paddock?!

Elena’s smile is sharp and bright. Like a viper waiting to strike its prey. Max swallowed thickly as she ran up to him. She hugged him tight. Max froze, his arms mechanically patting the side of her arms.

“Hi, handsome. Fancy seeing you here.” She chuckled softly at him while she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Max stared wordlessly at her.

“Wonder how I got here?”

Max nodded dumbly.

“Well, I happened to have almost married your best friend, Lando, and he happened to tell me that it's the Spanish Grand Prix this weekend! How fun!” She giggled excitedly, eyes glaring daggers.

Max sighed deeply, rubbing his temples.

He looked at her quietly. Elena’s eyes were shooting daggers, but there’s a small hint of hurt in them.

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he muttered quietly. Elena’s smile dropped a fraction.

“I just wanted to support you. You know…wife things,” she shrugged. “Besides, I also wanna see how hot you look in a F1 car.”

Max huffed softly, an imperceptible smile tugging at his lips. Elena smiled softly at him and pulled his arm gently towards the Paddock Café.

Max allowed her to pull him. Every mechanic, PR team, and drivers were chuckling and pointing at them. Max’s reddening face from sheer embarrassment and Elena’s determination made news on F1’s official Instagram page.

Max didn’t mind it much.

—

Elena was genuinely hurt that he didn’t tell her it was a race weekend. She had the month off from lectures so she’s free. She wondered why he didn’t tell her about it. She knew that he didn’t exactly want to marry her but they’re slowly getting to know each other.

They have eaten dinners together, had sex multiple times despite what Max tried to reject initially and they have even begun choosing a new coffee table together.

Elena bit her lip quietly as she read Lando’s text about the Spanish GP. She quietly packed her bags and decided that she wanted to surprise him. And give him a shock.

As the two of them entered the Paddock Café, Max ordered for them. Iced americano for Elena, and a black coffee for himself. Max placed them at a quiet booth at a far corner and they sat down opposite each other.

Elena looked at him quietly, still a little hurt by his lack of information on the GP. Max held her gaze and sighed quietly. He didn’t reach his hand out, but he really wanted to.

“I’m truly sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you in the dark about this,” he muttered truthfully, adjusting his team kit. Elena sighed, nodding once.

“I just…I know you didn’t want this marriage. But I thought we were…building something tangible.”

Max quickly held her hand gently, rubbing the knuckles.

“We are. It is tangible. I don’t…mind having you around.” He whispered, almost shyly at her. Elena’s lips tugged a fraction.

“You don’t mind? Just saying…you didn’t seem to mind when I was on top of you two days ago.” She smirked at him.

Max’s eyes widened like golf balls.

“Jesus, not out loud!” He hissed, covering his face in embarrassment.

“Relax, handsome. No one’s around us. It’s true though.” She said honestly. “You really didn’t seem to mind.”

Max lowered his hands from his face. He bit his lip and stared at this impossible woman.

“Yeah, I…didn’t mind.”

“I know.”

Max chuckled endearingly at her, shaking his head.

This woman.

-

Act V

The moment Max introduced Elena to his Race Engineer, GP, his Team Principal, Laurent Meckies, and the entire Red Bull garage, they were immediately charmed by how friendly and easy going she is. It also helped that she’s also brutally honest.

“I mean…if you start him on softs in this weather, wouldn’t that be considered…I don’t know—self-destructive?” She stared at GP who was looking at her with amusement.

“Precisely. It is self-destructive.”

“So…why is McLaren starting Norris on softs?”

Everyone froze.

“How…how did you know that?” GP asked her quietly as Max looked intrigued. Elena shrugged.

“Dunno. Heard someone say it. I was walking by their garage.”

GP and Laurent laughed once. Max was smiling proudly at her. Elena was dumbfounded.

“Why is everyone looking at me like I discovered oxygen?”

“Because you practically did. You just told us their strategy.” Max chuckled at her.

“Huh. Okay.”

Elena shrugged, taking a seat on a swivel chair and continued sipping her coffee. Max chuckled lowly at her casualness and sat beside her. He looked at his wife for a long time. GP and Laurent saw his look and turned away, quietly smiling at each other.

“Take a photo, hot stuff. It’ll last longer.” Elena smirked, catching his gaze. Max huffed and looked away, face turning red. He scoffed defensively.

“I—I wasn’t staring!”

“Uh-huh. And I didn’t force you to marry me.”

“Jesus.” He muttered softly, smiling endearingly at her.

—

The moment Max’s FP1 and FP2 were done, he stepped out of the cockpit all sweaty. Elena was at the garage, headset on and silently listening to everything the engineers were saying. After her little espionage work on the McLarens, she was given information access on Max’s car.

She wishes she understood engineering. She’s more of an arts girl, literature, languages, definitely not math and science. But, she understood some of it. Pretty understandable honestly.

The moment Max stepped out of the cockpit still in his helmet, Elena’s breath hitched. Oh…wow. Yes, she definitely married a hot one. She simply gaped and stared at him unabashedly as he took his helmet and balaclava off. She bit her lip as she stared at her husband. Max caught her stare and smirked softly.

She was still openly gaping as he walked up to her. The moment he was in front of her, she closed her mouth. And said nothing. Just stared at her attractive husband with his race suit unzipped and his long sleeved undershirt sculpting his muscles.

“Holy shit. You’re like Adonis.” She whispered quietly, still staring at him. Max bit his inner cheeks and looked away.

“I’m so glad I chose you.” She added softly, still staring at him unabashedly.

He tried finding words to say but failed. GP spoke up.

“Max? The word you’re looking for is ‘Thanks.’”

“Uh-huh. Thanks GP.” He muttered dryly at the older man. Turning his attention to his wife, he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear as his fingers brushed her jaw gently.

“Thank you.” He whispered shyly. Elena smiled brightly at him, glad that he’s taking her compliment for once. To be honest, Max loved seeing her in a sundress. She looked like a Princess. No. A Queen.

“You look…beautiful.” He whispered shyly, unable to look at her. Elena bit her lip softly and smiled at him.

“Thank you.”

Max nodded once and gestured to his driver’s room.

“I’m going to change. I’ll…be right out.”

Before Max could leave, Elena loudly said, “Wait! I wanna come with you while you strip!”

Max’s eyes widened as the entire garage heard her words. Chuckles from everyone made Max turn into a tomato. He closed his eyes briefly and nodded quickly at her, gesturing at her to come quick.

She chuckled softly and ran up to him as they both walked into his drivers’ room together.

—

After Max changed out of his clothes, they stayed in his driver’s room for a while. Elena was sitting on a chair, while Max was sitting on his bed. She was just looking around his room and taking it in. It’s not the neatest thing, but it’s organised. A couple of tennis balls on his desk, a skipping rope, and a couple of helmets lined the wall.

She saw a particularly nice helmet. It was pink and purple. Elena went up to it in awe. Max saw her look and smiled proudly. He told her it was from the Miami GP. She looked at him silently, hands over the helmet and silently asking if she could hold it. Max nodded.

As she held it, she brought it up to her eyes as she looked at the details of it. The lion at the crown of the helmet, the white lines, it’s beautiful.

“It’s beautiful." She whispered under her breath, looking at Max with a smile.

Max returned her smile and nodded.

“Yeah it is.”

Elena placed the helmet down. She took back her seat.

“Do you…enjoy being a racer?”

Max pressed his lips together, thinking of an answer.

“I do. I know people thought that I only enjoy it when I’m winning but, I truly enjoy racing when it’s real. That’s why I race GT3 cars too.”

“You do? So—it’s not just F1?”

Max nodded, smiling proudly.

“Yeah, I raced GT3 a couple of times. Got a little unlucky, but we’ll get there.”

Elena smiled proudly at him.

“May I ask you something?” Elena whispered quietly, fidgeting with her dress.

“Go ahead.”

“Do you regret this?” She asked bluntly, gesturing to the two of them. Max exhaled quietly, looking at the floor before looking back up at his wife. His family went crazy after the news dropped about them. His mom was so happy because according to her, he finally ‘found his match.’ And his dad just said ‘Good job and good luck.’

And then Max began thinking about the month and a half they had since the wedding. How they slowly got used to each other, how they knew each other’s patterns so easily, and how simple it is to talk to Elena because she is so blunt that he knows she’ll never lie to him.

“I don’t.” He said firmly, finally looking back up at her—holding her gaze. Elena’s lips tugged into a bright smile.

“Me too. We have fun, don’t we?”

Max hummed—agreeing.

“Just saying, I chose you first,” she said smugly, flipping her hair back. Max laughed loudly.

“I know. It took me a while though, but…I chose you too. I want that one.” He said simply, pointing at her with his helmet.

Elena laughed happily and clapped.

“Wow, using my own words, huh?”

“What can I say? I have a brave wife.”

“Well, you’re brave too. Could have gotten the easy way out and got the annulment.” Elena chuckled softly, shaking her head at him.

“Nah. I’m a Four Time World Champion. I don’t take the easy way out. I’m all in.” He muttered truthfully, smirking at her.

“Good.”

“I know.” He said softly, smirking at her.

Elena gasped softly.

That cheeky little…

—

Max adjusted his hair quickly whilst Elena slid the strap of her sundress back to where it belonged. Max’s room is a mess right now. They were practically on every single surface. They were both relentless. Both wanted to do it on every surface. Elena brushed out the strands of her hair while Max helped her zip up her dress.

Not before kissing her spine relentlessly. Elena gasped softly, back arching.

“Max, stop…”

Max hummed, ignoring her. Elena groaned softly, but before she could finish it, Max’s hand darted straight to her throat, lightly choking her. He shushed her and began kissing her neck repeatedly. Elena whined softly, slightly overstimulated. He smirked against her skin and nipped it gently. Lightly licking the red mark he left behind, he stepped back from her.

Elena looked wrecked. Her hair is back to messy, dress wrinkled, lips swollen, and eyes completely dazed. Max smirked proudly at his work and helped her sort herself out. After they finally looked decent, Max opened the door of his driver’s room and Elena stepped out first.

Thank God for soundproof walls. At least that’s what Max told her. But she’s got a feeling he was…lying about it. Because right now, the entire garage was darting pointed looks at them and giving them silent laughs. Elena’s head snapped towards Max who was struggling to keep a straight face.

“Max!” She hissed under her breath, face turning red. “Did they…hear us?”

Max hummed.

“Maybe.”

“What?” She hissed, trying to cover her face.

Max shrugged.

“We’re adults. We fuck. Who cares?”

Elena closed her eyes briefly.

She just had to choose a blunt man like herself, huh?

—

Epilogue

1 year later.

Elena and Max were lounging on their sofa, both doing their own thing. Max was looking at his onboards on his iPad and Elena was reading a book. Jimmy was in between them, napping. Max turned and looked at his wife. He smiled quietly to himself before darting his eyes back to the screen.

Elena felt his gaze and smiled at him.

“Yes?”

“Nothing, just…thinking about our anniversary.”

Elena hummed, flipping a page.

“What about it?”

“Was just thinking if we should go on a trip. Maybe somewhere…nice,” Max said simply, putting the iPad down. Elena closed her book and looked at him. They spent their honeymoon at Bora Bora. She began thinking about places to go.

“What about…Switzerland?” She asked curiously. Max’s smile widened.

“Yeah? You’d like that?”

“Mhm. Very much.”

“Alright then, let’s go to Switzerland. Might be a little hard to fuck in the cold, though.”

Elena laughed loudly.

“There’s a thing called the heater, husband.”

Max chuckled, shaking his head.

“Fine. The heater then. That’ll help me.”

Elena chuckled softly and kissed his cheek.

Max’s heart melted. He placed his iPad away and pulled her closer. Jimmy immediately jumped off the couch when he felt his parents closing in on each other.

He gently held the back of her neck while they kissed gently on the couch. He swiftly carried her bridal style to their bedroom. Elena giggled softly, kicking her feet in the air excitedly.

When Max laid her down on their bed, he climbed on top of her, tugging his shirt off. Elena bit her lip and immediately touched his bare chest. Max smirked at her actions. He gently pulled off her tank top and groaned softly when he saw her breasts.

“Fuck. Every time I look at you, I get reminded of how beautiful you are,” he rasped softly, bending down to her neck, peppering kisses. His hands grabbed onto her breasts and gently kneaded them. Elena moaned softly. Max hummed.

While they made love, they can’t help but think how this all started. Elena brandishing a sword and practically blackmailing him into marrying her, and Max, slowly relenting to her and choosing her to be his for life.

They’re truly perfect for each other.

Because when you want someone, just go ahead and tell them. What’s the harm? Life is too short anyway.

-final author’s note-

i hope everyone enjoyed that! the video was from this creator on tiktok: /@mrs.clary ◡̈

but seriously though, if you do want something, go for it. life is too short for worries. and yes, reminder again, this is fiction so whatever i wrote, be it strategy etc is pure fiction!

stay safe and enjoy life!

Act I

“Oscar, what the fuck, mate? This is so messy!” Lando screeched—holding up Oscar’s tshirt from the floor with his index finger and thumb. Oscar’s entire motorhome floor is littered with tshirts, sweatpants, and so many clothes that his closet is practically for show.

Oscar rolled his eyes and sighed.

“I know where everything is! Don’t touch them,” Oscar grumbled softly, picking up his boxer briefs and sniffing on them. He hummed once in agreement and tossed them to a certain boxer briefs pile at the corner. Lando gagged.

“Mate. That is fucking disgusting.” Lando shuddered, backing away from this contaminating man. Oscar scoffed defensively.

“They’re clean! Also, this is who I am, Lando. I know where everything is! It’s an organised chaos.”

“What?! ‘Organised chaos?’ There’s nothing organised about this, mate! You need help.” Lando shrieked, taking more steps back.

Knock knock.

Zak Brown entered Oscar’s motorhome, wanting to talk to him about something. The second he walked through the threshold and saw the mess—he gasped.

Shirts littered the floor, there’s a bunch of sweatpants draped over the coffee table and three separate piles of clean or unclean? laundry.

“What the…” He looked at the Australian in disbelief. Oscar—credit to him—had the decency to actually look sheepish about this.

Zak sighed deeply.

“Oscar…what the fuck am I looking at?”

Before Oscar could say anything, Lando beat him to it.

“Could we hire an organiser for this caveman? Like…I don’t know, Marie Kondo or something?” He huffed, crossing his arms and looking at the mess with so much disdain. Zak deliberated for a while.

Nodding, he said, “yes. I might know just the person for this job. Because right now? This looks like a teenage boy’s motorhome and not a twenty-five year old man’s.”

Oscar groaned, swiping his pile of clothes off the sofa before flopping on it.

“Sure.”

—

Veronica Sinclair was holding up a cucumber at the grocery store, deliberating on it. She was thinking if she should use cucumbers or zucchinis for her salad today. Before she could finish her thoughts, her phone rang. It’s her uncle.

‘Uncle Zak’

“Hey, Uncle Zak. What’s up?” She chirped casually, putting the cucumber down and picking up the zucchini instead. The man groaned softly over the line.

“Veron, hi. Sorry to call you out of the blue but—I need a favour.”

Veronica blinked.

—

Veronica went back to her apartment in Monaco and began packing. Uncle Zak mentioned that one of his drivers is ‘living in a pigsty’ and she needs to help that boy out. They’re at the Austrian Grand Prix right now and it’s the race weekend. Her uncle also mentioned that McLaren will cover her expenses for the trip.

She began packing trashbags, (for when the driver wants to donate or trash the shit out), her labelmaker, markers, and many more things, along with her clothes. She sighed deeply—a little ticked off that her Friday plans were disrupted.

She looked around her apartment. It’s systematic. Everything has a purpose and there are no things on the floor or tables. She was supposed to plan out her next week tonight but she supposed it’ll have to wait.

This project might take a while, and…she hates disruptions to her plans. She clipped up her hair and drank some tea to calm herself down. Her hands were shaking a little. From fear or from the fact that her plans were disrupted—she’s not sure.

She looked at her phone. The flight is in 5 hours. She’ll leave her house in an hour. Plenty of time at the airport to buy a small snack and mentally prepare herself for this upcoming project. She sent a quick email to her subordinates saying that she’s going on leave for the week.

They replied instantly. All of them were excited for her spontaneity for once. She sighed, rolling her eyes at their words. She’s not a spontaneous person but this trip is already picking at her soul.

This will be hell on Earth.

—

The second Veronica stepped to the paddock, she could practically hear her uncle’s voice echoing in her mind.

“Veron, the paddock is going to be loud and a little disorganised, but bear in mind that it all works systematically. Organised chaos,” he said simply over the phone.

Veronica sighed.

“There is no such thing as ‘organised chaos’, Uncle Zak.”

“You’ll see.”

As she walked past the team garages, she was trying not to mentally clock every single discrepancy to the so called ‘organisation’. The toolbox on the floor in the middle of the Ferrari garage is a trip hazard, the tire rack at a blindspot of a corner could break a nose, and an engineer at Williams was drinking coffee dangerously close to a computer showing a bunch of data—IT collapse imminent.

She shook her head quietly, trying to stop herself from making a scene. But before she could, her feet brought her to the Ferrari garage, right at the toolbox. Wordlessly, she picked it up, and placed it quietly at the tool station—which is a little empty to be one.

A Ferrari mechanic blinked as she silently moved the toolbox.

“Uh…grazie.”

Veronica nodded once and continued walking.

She then went to the tire rack and moved it away. Lastly, she went up to the Williams Engineer and told her to place her coffee a few spots away from the computer.

The engineer looked at her confusedly, unsure who this lady was—but placed her coffee a little further away from the computer and smiled awkwardly at Veronica.

She simply nodded once and went straight to the McLaren hospitality to meet her uncle.

—

Zak was sitting at his desk talking to Oscar. The Australian was sitting quietly with his hands crossed—still thinking that this whole thing is a mistake. He is perfectly content with his ‘organisation skills’ and the ‘mess’ he left behind at the motorhome.

“I’m just saying—this is unnecessary.” Oscar sighed quietly, looking a little wounded by this entire thing. Zak stared at his driver for a long time before sighing, rubbing his face once.

“Oscar, look. This intervention is not to dismiss you or to embarrass you. You’re a good driver of mine and I refuse to let my driver live in such disarray,” Zak said firmly, looking unflinchingly at Oscar.

Oscar bit his cheeks and sighed—relenting.

Zak nodded once.

“Good. Her name is Veronica Sinclair, she’s your age, and she’s my niece. Be good to her and she might actually let you keep a few clothes.”

Oscar’s eyes widened at the implication that Veronica might actually throw his clothes out.

“Wait wha—“

Knock knock.

“Come in,” Zak said calmly.

Enter Veronica.

—

Act II

Oscar opened the door to his motorhome. The second Veronica took a look at it, she gasped softly. Her brain then short-circuited—unable to process the mess. There were three separate piles of clothes, there’s a bunch of sweatpants on the coffee table, and the entire floor was littered with clothes and random items.

“Wha—“ She gaped, looking at Oscar and Zak. Zak pressed his lips together and crossed his arms. Oscar rubbed his neck sheepishly, unable to explain himself to her. Veronica looked at this man with such confusion and shock in her eyes before stepping deeper into his living space.

“How…” She whispered, eyes widening at the mess. “How do you live like this?”

Oscar sighed quietly.

“I just do,” he whispered—embarrassed. Veronica gasped softly and looked at the boxer briefs pile. She swallowed once and decided to look away.

“Show me your closet space.” She said quietly, stepping aside as Oscar walked past her into the bedroom. As she followed him in, she took a quick look at his bathroom. It’s not as bad as the living room but dear God, she’ll need a lot of time.

As Oscar showed her his closet space, she sighed quietly. There’s practically nothing in there because all of his clothes are on the floor of the living room. She looked at him for a while, thinking what to say.

Oscar held her gaze a little shyly.

She then looked at her uncle with a certain certainty.

“We’re going to need reinforcements.” She said firmly to her uncle. Zak nodded once, agreeing.

Then she looked at Oscar.

“And you will need to say goodbye to some of your items,” she said quietly, taking out the trashbags from the bag she brought in. Oscar’s breath hitched at her words.

“You’re…going to throw them out?”

“No. We’ll be donating them. Or even better, sell them at an auction and use the money to donate it to the needy.”

Oscar sighed quietly.

“Your choice, Oscar.” She added simply, opening up the trash bag, hinting at him to throw something in. Oscar sighed, running his hand through his hair.

“Fine.”

—

Zak called in three McLaren staff and told them to not film anything for ‘content.’ As they entered Oscar’s motorhome, they gaped. Veronica was busy helping Oscar choose between items, trashbags everywhere. Lando is busy digging through Oscar’s clothes pile in a pair of gloves Veronica provided.

“Uhm…what should we do?” One of them named Joey spoke up—looking at the entire motorhome in shock. Veronica heard it and stood up, smiling brightly because organising is thrilling for her.

“Begin by attacking those laundry piles. Are they clean clothes or should I not bother asking at this point?” She looked at Oscar. Oscar sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck and said, “some are clean…”

Veronica’s mouth fell open.

She closed her eyes for a moment, trying to mentally rewire herself. Oscar bit his lip in nervousness.

“Let’s wash all of them. In that case, Joey. You, Simone, and Thaddeus start on the laundry. Oscar, show me the clean clothes you have. We’ll sort those out first.”

As the three of them rush off to get the nitrile gloves Veronica brought in, Oscar shows her his ‘clean laundry pile’. Veronica nodded once and began her work.

Oscar shuddered instantly the second Veronica held up a faded ‘Alpine’ team kit.

“We could donate that. I don’t think I want to auction that off…” He muttered softly, crouching down on the floor beside Veronica. As she holds items up, Oscar will either nod to keep it or shudder to donate it.

After a while, the ‘donate’ clothes were neatly folded up on the floor. However, the ‘keep’ clothes were still too much. Veronica sighed once, looking at Oscar who is trying his best to not retort and tell her that he wants to keep them all.

“Any of these clothes bring you joy? Marie Kondo once said that if an item doesn’t bring you joy, you should toss it out,” she said simply, holding up a pair of pants. Oscar gasped, snatching the pants from her and sniffing it sentimentally.

“Not this one. Please. The day I wore it, I had my maiden win in F1. It makes me so happy to see it.” He said quietly, looking at the pants like it’s his lost love. Veronica groaned, knowing for a fact that this will take a while.

“Oscar, we have to Marie Kondo this shit. I can’t let you keep all of the clothes. The auction will do great things for the needy.”

Oscar sighed quietly, pushing his hair back.

He then holds up a t-shirt that still looks brand new, but clearly unworn. Veronica’s smile brightened as Oscar threw it into the trash bag after folding it neatly.

After the two of them settled their clothes, the McLaren staff continued to clean his motorhome by organising everything else. Veronica whipped out her labelmaker and began printing labels that would help Oscar be more organised.

Oscar took a look and gaped.

Shoes

Socks

Delicates

Tshirts

Jackets

Jeans

and so many more.

He looked at Veronica for a long while. She looked…serene while she was pasting the labels. Like this is something fun she would do on a weekend instead of going out. Veronica saw his gaze and smiled shyly.

“I enjoy doing this,” she shrugged shyly, pasting the labels on the closet. His closet is not too big but it’s substantial enough for a F1 driver who travels everywhere on a daily basis.

“Do you…do anything else other than this?”

“What do you mean?” She asked confusedly.

Oscar deliberated on his next words for a while.

“I meant, do you only do organisation for yourself on the weekends?”

Veronica blinked.

“Uh…” She trailed off, trying to think of something else to say. She couldn’t find the words, but Oscar was already there.

“What if…you let me take you out sometime?”

“Not as a date!” He added quickly—embarrassed.

“As in, I just want to say thank you for helping me with all this. I know I’m not the neatest guy but…I really appreciated your help.”

“No problem at all, Oscar.” She smiled softly at him. Oscar’s breath hitched slightly, unable to process the fact that Veronica had just agreed to go out with him.

He smiled shyly.

“Sounds good.”

“Good.” She chirped.

Good.

—

Act III

Zak came back after five hours. He gasped quietly in awe, taking a look at Oscar’s motorhome. Lando has officially collapsed on the sofa, drinking his soda, Veronica and Oscar are finishing up on the packing, and the McLaren staff are doing final touches.

Zak looked at Veronica and smiled softly.

“Thank you, Veron. Truly.”

Veronica smiled softly at her uncle.

“No problem at all. I had fun. Also, Oscar asked me out,” she shrugged easily, placing a ‘donate’ trashbag by the door. Zak’s brain short-circuited.

His driver? Asking his niece out?

Before Zak could open his mouth, Oscar quickly said, “not as a date! I just…I wanted to bring her somewhere fun because she said she usually spends her weekends cleaning her house.”

Zak closed his mouth and stared at Oscar for a long time. Oscar held back his gaze, open and unflinching. After a while, the older man sighed. Veronica, who was unaware of her uncle’s mental crash out, was busy fluffing Oscar’s pillows.

Zak went up to Oscar.

“Don’t hurt her. She…doesn’t need that. I know you won’t deliberately do it but…don’t.” Zak muttered quietly to him. Oscar took a deep breath and nodded once.

“I won’t.” He said firmly.

Zak nodded once and stepped back, taking in the motorhome. It’s very neat and it actually looks aesthetically pleasing. The floor has been cleared out of clothes, vacuumed and mopped thoroughly. Zak took a peek in the bathroom and smiled because it finally smelled clean. Oscar’s room is neat and tidy. His closet has been organised to perfection. Zak hummed in bliss.

He looked at Veronica and opened up his arms. She giggled softly and hugged her uncle. As she hugged him, Zak chuckled lowly.

“Your mother would have been proud. She’s always the neat one of the family.”

Veronica’s eyes brimmed at her uncle’s words. She didn’t know how neat her mother was because she was raised by her dad. But they all said the same things to her.

“You look just like Claire.”

“So beautiful! Like Claire!”

“You remind me of your mother.”

Veronica doesn’t know her well enough to miss her but there is a part of her that wishes she knew her mother before He took her away. She looked at her uncle and sighed softly.

“I wish I knew her well.”

“I know you do, Veron.” Zak said quietly, kissing the top of her head.

Oscar, who was listening to all this, kept quiet. He felt a chill run down his spine. He didn’t know her mother was gone. He shook his thoughts away and cleared his throat gently, breaking their attention.

“I’m going to go for a sim session before FP2. Veronica, when we’re back in Monaco, there’s a fun place I want to bring you.” He said simply to her. She smiled softly and nodded.

“Sounds good, Oscar.”

—

Veronica decided to stay for the entire weekend. Her uncle’s words about how F1 garages are an ‘organised chaos’ is still echoing in her mind. As she stood in the McLaren garage with a headset on, she looked around the garage. Everyone is everywhere. There’s no specific spot to stand for them. The engineers are either walking around with tablets or standing at one computer, all huddled up and talking about technical things that she’s trying to understand. The mechanics are everywhere, running around the garages and trying to sort everything out.

The moment Oscar entered the garage with his race suit unzipped at the waist, Veronica’s eyes widened. Oscar was wearing a loose tshirt earlier on when they were cleaning and right now? Her brain froze.

The tight long sleeved undershirt he has on sculpted his muscles and body perfectly. He looked so tall and his shoulders were so wide. Oscar smiled easily at her when he saw her.

“Hey.”

Veronica’s mouth went dry.

“Uhm—hi. You look…different in a race suit.” She said quietly, trying her best to stay calm. Oscar’s smile brightened slightly.

“Yeah? Is it a…good type of difference?” He asked shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. She pressed her lips together.

“Mhm.”

Oscar looked at the floor, smiling.

“Thank you,” he said shyly.

“I have to go now. I’ll see you later, okay? Have fun.” He said softly, walking away from her with a wave. Veronica’s heart is pounding a hundred miles a minute and she couldn’t slow it down.

Why must he look so hot in that undershirt? And that ‘81’ at the back? Holy…

—

Veronica completely blacked out after that interaction. She caught herself staring at the back of his head and chided herself.

What is wrong with you? Stop that.

Shaking her head, she looked around the garage. She sighed begrudgingly. Seeing the mechanics and engineers work together like a well oiled machine made her think that her uncle’s words were accurate.

“Organised chaos indeed,” she muttered to herself as she saw Oscar entering the cockpit of his car. Her breath caught. He looked so calm and confident. Nothing like she would expect coming from a man who had his clothes strewn all over the floor before this.

She couldn’t help but gape at his quadriceps against his tight race suit. She stared at it with a blank look and this time? Lando caught her. He gently bumped his shoulder against hers and she closed her mouth immediately—turning to him.

“Hey,” she said quietly, voice strained.

Lando smirked.

“Oscar, huh? Thought he wouldn’t be your type.”

Veronica felt a familiar heat creeping up her neck.

“Wha—what do you mean? I don’t have a certain type!” She scoffed defensively, crossing her arms. Lando shrugged and crossed his arms.

“Figured he’s too messy for you to have a crush on.”

“I don’t have a crush on him!” She hissed, smacking Lando’s arm lightly once. Lando chuckled lowly, voice laced with threat.

“Hit me again, Marie Kondo, and I’ll tell Oscar you want to sleep with him.”

“Maybe even ride his thigh.” He added, smirking widely at the flustered woman.

Veronica gasped softly—covering her mouth.

“Don’t say that! I don’t want to…ride his thigh!” She scoffed, crossing her arms. Lando smirked and walked away from her. Collapsing down onto a plastic chair in the garage, she sighed.

This is going to be long, isn’t it?

—

Oscar drove back to the garage after FP2. Veronica was sitting near an engineer and processing everything they’re saying. As an architect, she understands basic fundamentals of engineering. Veronica nodded quietly as the engineer spoke to her colleague.

“The softs have worse tire degradation on this track. Let’s start with mediums first. What do you think?” The engineer named Hannah spoke to her colleague. Her colleague nodded, agreeing.

After Oscar exited his cockpit, he saw Veronica listening in to the engineers and smiled softly to himself. He slowly removed his helmet and balaclava, tugging his earpieces out. Unzipping his race suit to his waist, he walked up to her.

“What are they saying?” His soft voice snapped Veronica out of the conversation. She blinked, looking at him silently.

“Uhm—starting you on mediums because the track temperatures are too hot for softs,” she muttered softly, unable to look at him directly. Oscar bit his lip shyly and nodded.

“Sounds good. Do you…want some coffee? Our hospitality has good ones,” he invited her gently, rubbing his arm once. Veronica nodded and stood up. Picking up her purse, she and Oscar walked out of the McLaren garage.

As they walked, their shoulders would occasionally bump into each other which didn’t help Veronica’s racing heart. Oscar smiled quietly to himself as he felt the same thing too.

Oscar doesn’t understand why, but he found Veronica interesting. She was completely in control of his motorhome organisation back then. Totally confident and authoritative, which Oscar found attractive. But now, she’s quiet and shy which he found attractive too.

What is with him?

Oscar pressed his lips together as he opened the McLaren Hospitality door for her. As she walked past him, he got a whiff of her perfume. Something floral and soft, uniquely hers. His heart skipped a beat.

—

After they got their coffees, they sat down at a corner of the Hospitality Unit and chatted. Veronica sipped on her iced americano as Oscar sipped his black coffee.

“So tell me more about Melbourne,” she asked him curiously. Oscar’s eyes lit up at her words. No one truly asked him about Melbourne. He smiled as he began talking about his life back home.

Veronica listened intently, nodding and smiling at his little childhood anecdotes. Oscar then asked her about California, her hometown. She chuckled softly and tucked a strand of hair behind her shyly.

She began talking about her life back home, her friends, their constant beach trips on the weekends growing up. Oscar smiled softly at her words, absorbing it intently. And then…Oscar asked something.

“May I ask you something?” He probed gently, fully ready to withdraw if she refuses. Veronica nodded, sipping her coffee.

“What…what happened to your mum?”

Veronica froze for a moment, not expecting this question. She swallowed thickly and looked away for a moment, staring at the track. Oscar waited.

After a long pause, she began.

“She died during childbirth,” Veronica whispered quietly, looking at him. “She was…giving birth to me and there were…complications.”

Oscar gasped softly. His hand immediately found hers, holding it gently. Veronica didn’t flinch from his touch, she looked down at her coffee as tears brimmed in her eyes.

“People say I look like her. And that my personality is just like hers,” she chuckled dryly. “I wish I knew it myself. I…don’t miss her because I never met her and I hate myself for it.”

Oscar frowned at her words, holding her hand tighter.

“Please don’t. I know it’s not my place but she'll be proud of you. Proud of who you are now and what you’ll become.” He said delicately, looking intently into her hazel eyes. Veronica pressed her lips together as a single tear rolled down her cheek. Wordlessly, Oscar brushed it away with his thumb.

“I couldn’t control her death,” she whispered softly. “But I can control my life. I suppose that’s why I’m…” she gestured to all of her wordlessly. Oscar nodded, understanding her words perfectly.

“You can take risks, you know. I can…teach you if you want me to,” he said gently, ready to back away any time she tells him ‘no.’ Veronica smiled at his words and nodded.

“That sounds good. Where are you taking me in Monaco?”

Oscar smiled brightly.

“You’ll see.”

—

Act IV

Oscar texted her on a Wednesday. He has a week off before the season continues and she was vacuuming her apartment. After she’s done, she sat down on her sofa and sipped her tea whilst reading his texts.

Oscar:

Friday, 10am.

Wear something comfortable you can climb in.

Think…sporty.

Her eyebrows raised at his words. She chuckled softly and replied:

Veronica:

Sure.

We’re not going…skydiving or bungee jumping, right?

Oscar:

No haha.

Good idea though.

Veronica called him immediately.

“Absolutely not! Please, no high risk things!” She chuckled loudly over the phone, heart pounding from the sheer imagination of her flying out a plane. Oscar’s voice chuckled warmly, heating up her heart gently.

“I won’t make you do such things…I promise. Nothing dangerous, I swear. You’ll be safe,” he promised her, fully aware that she will not be able to handle it. Veronica sighed in relief.

“Something sporty, okay? I’ll pick you up at 10.” He said softly, as he continued sorting out his place. Veronica hummed in reply.

“So…what are you up to?” She asked him curiously, hearing rustling in the background. Oscar smiled to himself.

“Cleaning my apartment. Doing that Marie Kondo thing you taught me.”

Veronica sat up, intrigued.

“Do you need my help with that?”

Oscar blinked.

“Sure! Come on by, I’ll send you my address.”

After their call ended, Veronica packed up some organisational things and entered her car. She was buzzing with excitement. Her heart was blooming in her chest as she drove. He’s cleaning. Because she taught him to. She smiled to herself as she waited by a red light.

As she reached his apartment door, her heart pounded gently. Taking a deep breath, she knocked on it.

Knock knock knock.

The door opened within seconds. Veronica took a look at him. He’s in a tshirt and sweatpants. Oh…grey sweatpants and his shirt is…tight. Veronica’s mouth went dry.

“Hi,” she said softly, voice strained. Oscar took a look at her. Hair up in a claw clip, wearing a tank top and a pair of shorts. She’s bare faced in glasses.

Fuck, she’s adorable.

“Hi. Come on in,” he cleared his throat slightly, moving to the side to let her in. She took in his apartment. It’s not that bad, honestly. There were some clothes on the floor from him sorting it out, helmets neatly lined up. It’s not that bad.

“Let’s begin.” She smiled brightly, holding out her trashbags.

—

After a couple of hours, they’re done sorting his clothes. Veronica slumped on his sofa as he made them some tea. She looked around at his apartment and smiled to herself. It looks so much neater now. She almost wanted to organise his pasta types but had to hold herself back because she didn’t want to overstep.

It’s his apartment after all.

Oscar gently gave her a mug of warm tea. She touched the mug gently. Perfect temperature. Not too hot or cold. Just as she likes it. She thanked him and took it from him. Their hands brushed gently against each other when she did it.

Oscar sat beside her, leaving a small space in case she wanted to go further away or maybe, hopefully, come closer to him. Veronica sipped the tea, humming in appreciation. Oscar smiled at her hum. They simply sat there in comfortable silence, embracing the presence of one another.

“So, when’s the auction?” Veronica broke the silence gently, looking to her right. Oscar met her gaze and smiled softly.

“During the summer season of my race calendar,” he answered smoothly, sipping his tea. Veronica smiled—excited.

“Can I be there? I want to see how much money you raised and…” she trailed off, stopping herself before she said too much.

“And?”

She swallowed once, sipping her tea, she looked at the mug as though it held answers. She took a long pause. Oscar waited.

“And to…to see you,” she whispered shyly, unable to look at him as she felt a blush creeping up her neck. Oscar chuckled under his breath, taking the mug away from her hands gently. She looked at him in confusion as he gently tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Gently rubbing the pads of his thumb on her blushing cheek, Oscar smiled at her.

“I want you there too,” he said with ease, leaning in. Veronica’s breath hitched as she saw him. Closing her eyes, she leaned in as well. As they kissed on his sofa, he gently held her cheeks as though she is something precious he doesn’t want to break.

Her hands were on his chest and she then moved them to the back of his neck, pulling him deeper. Oscar moaned softly against her mouth as he pulled her gently to his lap. As she straddled his lap, she could feel his erection gently poking her inner thigh. She sighed softly against his lips as they kissed each other in a slow frenzy. 

Damn you, Oscar Piastri.

—

Friday

Veronica straightened out her tank top and gym shorts. As she tightened the laces on her shoes, she couldn’t hide the warmth blooming in her heart. Oscar and she didn’t do anything more on that fateful Wednesday evening. After making out gently on his sofa, he made her dinner and they simply hung out at his apartment and watched a movie. 

She lowkey wishes it had been more, but a woman can be patient. 

The moment Oscar reached, he knocked on her door. The moment she opened it, she saw him in a nice pair of shorts and a loose tshirt. He smiled at her brightly.

“Ready?” He said softly, taking her in. She looks cute in a sporty attire. Veronica nodded, adjusting her slingbag and stepped outside. 

“It’s…not dangerous, right?” She asked warily. Oscar chuckled warmly, shaking his head.

“It’s not, I promise you.” 

“Okay.” 

—

Veronica gaped at the rock climbing wall in front of her. She then looked at Oscar and chuckled warily. 

“Rock climbing, huh?” 

Oscar nodded once.

“Yep. It’ll be fun. And safe, too.” He reassured her as he tightened her harness. She took a deep breath and he saw the look in her eyes. He tightened the harness even more. 

“You’re perfectly safe. I have a license in rock climbing and also, Enrique is there to help us if we need it,” he said simply, pointing to the worker who was watching them with a smile. Veronica took another deep breath and nodded once. 

“Alright.” 

As she placed her foot on the first rock, her hand immediately held onto another one above. She gently pushed her legs up and got higher. Oscar strapped himself in and climbed up to her.

“You’re doing great,” he reassured her, smiling brightly. Veronica smiled back at him and pressed her lips together, pushing herself up some more. 

She accidentally lost her footing at some point and fell. She screamed but the harness and the ropes held her taut. As she hung by the wall, she was holding onto the rope for dear life. Oscar quickly dropped down beside her. She was quietly panicking. 

“Hey…hey…you’re okay. Come here,” he carefully assured her, guiding her back to the wall. Veronica took a shuddering breath and looked at him. His gaze was firm but warm, full of promise and assurance. 

She nodded, breathing in gently.

“I’m okay.” She said softly, pushing herself up. Oscar smiled gently as she climbed, following her up. As they reached the top, Oscar patted her shoulder proudly. 

“You did it! Want to look down?” 

Veronica’s eyes widened but glanced anyway.

Holy shit, they’re like three floors up.

“Oh my…Okay I’m done looking.” She said quickly, snapping her gaze back to the wall. Oscar chuckled softly and nodded, “sounds good. Come, let’s fly down.” 

As they swiftly descended, Veronica smiled because it felt like a controlled fall, not a crash. She stumbled slightly on the landing and accidentally bumped into Oscar who was already waiting there, arms open. He hugged her figure tight, proud of her.

“How was it?” He asked her gently, brushing a piece of hair away gently. She smiled brightly.

“It was fun. Can we…do it again sometime?” 

Oscar’s smile brightened. 

“Absolutely. Come on, we got lunch next.” 

—

As they entered the Italian place, Oscar’s hand was carefully placed on her lower back. They walked through the threshold and were hit by the smell of garlic and cheese. Total heaven. She looked at Oscar excitedly and he chuckled warmly at her. 

“You’re adorable, you know that?” He muttered almost shyly, kissing the top of her head with care. Veronica’s heart bloomed at his words, appreciating his gentle touches. 

As they sat down in a private booth at the corner, Veronica excitedly looked at the menu, straight for the pizza options. Oscar was ruminating pasta options. Whilst looking, he glanced up at her. She was gently biting her soft pink lip unconsciously, thinking about what to eat. 

Oscar felt a stir in his pants as he watched her bite her lip. It’s making him feel things. He wants to kiss it out of her. Not here. He snapped his gaze back to his menu, clearing his throat.  

“What are you having?” He asked her quietly, voice tight. Veronica looked up and smiled.

“Truffle pizza. Sounds good, doesn’t it?” 

Oscar nodded stiffly and sipped his water.

“Good.” His voice came out strained. He couldn’t help but stare at her chest for a moment. As she leaned down a little, Oscar could see her bra and the dip in her chest…

Oscar looked away, chiding himself.

What is wrong with you? Stop that.

He cleared his throat again. 

She smiled at him easily, unaware of the war raging behind his eyes. Oscar sighed softly, shoulders relaxing an inch, smiling back at her. He tenderly held her hand, rubbing circles on it.

“I want to take you to a private karting track someday. Does that sound good to you?” He asked faintly, kissing her knuckles. She smiled softly, nodding.

“Sounds good. I can go slow there, right?” 

“Absolutely.”