Dear Lando - Book Two

𝟷𝟿 ♡ Let It Happen

Let It Happen By Tame Impala

"Ok, move your head a bit."

"Move my head where, Red? I'm driving."

"Forward, I can still see your face in the frame!" Lana grumbled, nudging his shoulder to emphasize her point.

Lando shot her a smirk before adjusting his head, grumbling half-heartedly as she snapped a quick picture.

They were on their way to the track for free practice one, marking Lana's first day accompanying Lando to the circuit. Thursday had been a full media day for him, which meant Lana had chosen to stay behind, savoring a quiet day at the hotel. But today, she was ready to experience everything.

Once Lana was satisfied with the photo, she took her hand off his face and started composing the post on her phone, sneaking glances at Lando every so often as he navigated the morning traffic.

When they finally arrived and parked, they climbed out of the car and walked toward the quieter back entry, steering clear of the chaos at the main gate.

"Walk closer to me," Lana said without looking up from her phone, still editing the caption.

"How's this?" Lando asked, slipping an arm around her shoulders as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

She stiffened slightly, caught off guard by the casual gesture, but quickly recovered. "Perfect," she mumbled, trying to ignore the strange flutter in her chest.

As they walked side by side, Lana couldn't help but let her mind wander. She'd once dreamed about moments like this—walking into the Paddock with a secret driver boyfriend, his arm around her, the two of them slipping in unnoticed, dressed in red.

And here she was. Well, sort of.

As they started their journey through the Singapore paddock, a few photographers caught sight of Lando, their cameras flashing in quick succession. Soon enough, Lando's PR manager and a few team members joined them, creating a subtle entourage around the couple as they made their way through the paddock.

Charlotte, always professional, greeted Lana warmly. Lana responded with a polite smile and nod, watching as Charlotte seamlessly slipped into work mode with Lando, already discussing the day's schedule and prepping him for the media circuit.

Lana, meanwhile, let herself drift back a few steps, soaking in the familiar hum and vibrant energy of the paddock. She loved the sensory overload—the scent of different types of food, the constant hum of people and journalists, the distant sounds of cars on the track. She breathed in deeply, a satisfied smile tugging at her lips.

Caught up in the nostalgia of it all, she let her feet carry her forward on autopilot. It was only when she saw the iconic red of the Ferrari hospitality, that she realized her misstep. Shaking her head with a grin, she turned on her heel, quickly making her way back to the McLaren group.

Lando's brow arched in playful amusement as she fell back in step beside him. "Took a little detour, did you?"

Lana rolled her eyes, though her grin gave her away. "Force of habit."

Lando smirked. "Careful, Red. People might start to think you miss Ferrari."

"Maybe I do," she teased, shooting him a sidelong glance. "After all, red is my color."

"Well, Papaya might just grow on you," he shot back, nudging her shoulder playfully as they entered the hospitality.