Redemption

E I G H T.

24th April
I had been at my new job for a few days now and was beginning to enjoy it. I would be lying if I said I a little part of me didn't enjoy the 9-5 lifestyle. I knew the novelty would wear off but it made me feel confident, like I was just some lost kid anymore. I also appreciated finally having my own money and being able to help Jacob with groceries, it made me feel less of a burden. I know he would never think of me like that but I always felt bad living off him for the last couple months. London is expensive so anything I could do to repay him, I did. Lando and I had continued chatting daily, constantly checking in on each other and calling whenever we could. But the fake relationship, although we promised to just be friends, irritated me. It was Bronte's birthday last week so he flew her out to New york. It envied me that she got to be experiencing these things with him. But what annoyed me the most was the post.

The caption annoyed me. The photos annoyed me. But most of all was that fact everyone thinks of them as the best couple when in reality it's all a facade. It was pure jealousy and luckily I was aware of it. I never took it out on lando, obviously he had to do a birthday post but it still didn't lessen the sting any more.

Currently, I sat cross-legged on the living room floor, my eyes glued to the TV screen, my heart pounding in sync with the roar of the engines. The camera panned across the racetrack, capturing the blurring speed of the cars as they raced towards the finish line. F1 never really interested me, but today was different. Today Lando was racing and it was much more exciting when you knew someone who was driving. I would be lying if I said my feelings for lando hadn't grown, his smile was always lingering in my thoughts. I watched as his car, sleek and powerful, zoomed ahead, inching closer to victory with every turn. My fingers clutched the edge of the cushion beside me, my breath catching as the final laps began. I was nervous, almost as if I was the one behind the wheel, feeling every twist and turn in my chest. I've never seen him race, only heard about his passion for formula 1 in our conversations, where his eyes would light up with excitement. Now, I was seeing that passion in action, and it was exhilarating. The commentator's voices rise in anticipation, the excitement in the air palpable even through the screen. He was leading the pack, just a few more seconds to go. I held my breath, my heart pounding as the finish line came into view. And then it happens - his car crosses the finish line first, the chequered flag waving triumphantly. The crowd on the screen erupts in cheers, but the sound seems distant, muffled by the sudan rush of emotions flooding me. He did it, he won. I jump up, a smile breaking across my face, a mix of pride and something deeper swelling in my chest. But as the camera zooms in on him celebrating with his team, hugging his crew member, and raising his fists in victory, I feel a pang of bittersweetness. I wished I could be there, right beside him, sharing this moment, seeing the joy on his face up close.