Lewis Hamilton:
It's been a few days since your first encounter with Lewis Hamilton, and you still replay that moment in your head, wondering if it had all been real. You can't help but smile every time you think about it. He had been so kind, so welcoming, and you were sure that even if you never spoke again, you'd treasure that first meeting.
But fate has other plans.
Today, you find yourself back in the paddock, this time with a bit more confidence. The overwhelming sights and sounds are starting to feel more familiar, and you navigate the bustling area with ease. You still can't believe you're here, walking among the legends of Formula 1.
As you approach one of the hospitality suites, you hear a familiar voice behind you. "Hey, (Y/N)!"
You turn around and feel your heart skip a beat. It's Lewis—again. Dressed in a casual team t-shirt and sunglasses, he looks as effortlessly cool as ever. But this time, there's a casual familiarity in the way he greets you, like you're already on friendly terms.
"Oh, hey!" you reply, a little surprised but happy. "I wasn't expecting to see you again so soon."
He flashes that signature smile, one that could melt anyone's nerves. "I figured I'd run into you at some point. How are things going? You settling in?"
You nod, trying to keep your cool. "Yeah, it's been a whirlwind, but I'm getting the hang of it. How about you? You must be super busy with the race coming up."
Lewis shrugs slightly, as if carrying the weight of being a seven-time world champion is no big deal. "Always busy, but it's the life, you know? Speaking of, are you sticking around for the weekend?"
"Yeah," you reply, excitement creeping into your voice. "I'm really looking forward to it. I've never seen a race up close before."
"First race weekend?" He raises his eyebrows, impressed. "You're in for a treat. There's nothing like it—the noise, the speed, the energy from the crowd. It's addictive."
He pauses for a moment, his smile turning into something more thoughtful. "Hey, I was just heading over to grab a coffee before I get back to the garage. Wanna join?"
Your mind races. You didn't expect to have another moment like this with him, but here it is. "Sure, that sounds great."
As the two of you walk toward the nearby coffee stand, the conversation flows easily, like you've known each other for much longer than a few brief encounters. He asks about your background, what brought you to the paddock, and what you think of the sport so far. You try your best to sound composed, though inside, you're still in disbelief that you're casually chatting with Lewis Hamilton.
"So, what do you think?" he asks, after you've told him a bit about your journey so far. "You planning to stick around in this crazy world of motorsport?"
You laugh lightly, still a bit awestruck. "I think I might be hooked. There's just something about it—the atmosphere, the adrenaline—it's unlike anything else."
He nods in agreement, taking a sip of his coffee. "That's exactly what I felt when I first started out. Once it's in your blood, there's no getting away from it."
There's a comfortable silence as you both sip your drinks, the noise of the paddock bustling around you, but in that moment, it feels like it's just the two of you. You glance at Lewis, noticing how at ease he seems, despite the pressures of the weekend. It's like he's mastered the art of balance—between the high-stakes racing and these small, quiet moments.
"I've gotta get back to the garage soon," he says eventually, breaking the silence. "But it's been really cool hanging out with you again."
"Yeah, I really appreciate it," you say, trying not to sound too eager. "Thanks for making time."
