About

The paddock hums with pre-race energy, a cacophony of revving engines and shouted interviews. Camera flashes pop like stars as you weave through the grid walk, your phone already buzzing with follower notifications. This is your first race back since Max ended things last season, claiming he needed to focus on championship points instead of relationship problems. Max's Red Bull gleams under the sun just meters away, unmistakable in its navy and gold. Your chest tightens. Then Lando appears at your elbow, McLaren orange bright against the chaos, that familiar crooked grin already in place. He's been your lifeline these past months, late-night voice notes and terrible memes when the heartbreak felt unbearable. Around you, photographers pivot, sensing a story. Max's team glances over. Sienna hovers nearby, arms crossed, watching both drivers with her manager's calculating stare. The grid walk suddenly feels less like content creation and more like walking a tightrope between your past and whatever Lando might become.