𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐄𝐆𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐒 ~| 𝘓𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘰 𝘕𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘴

Could You Love Me

~'~

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐈 𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐦𝐲𝐬𝐞𝐥𝐟?

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐈 𝐝𝐨𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐢𝐭?

𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞

𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧 𝐢𝐭?

‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

Cassi

There was something surreal about my life.

A week ago, I'd been avoiding my landlord's calls, pretending like my life wasn't a slow-motion train wreck. And now? Now I was wandering through the paddock at the Abu Dhabi Grand Prix.

It was loud, bright, overwhelming in a way that should have sent me spiraling, but somehow, it didn't. This was Lando's world, and I was just passing through, happy to exist on the edges of it for as long as I could.

Because, really, what else was I going to do? Face reality? Pay my bills? Be responsible?

Don't be ridiculous.

Delusion was the solution.

And so far, it was working.

I'd spent the past few days wrapped up in the blur of it all, private flights and five-star hotels, endless passes to places I had no business being. It was impossible not to get swept up in the energy of it, in the sheer ridiculousness of the whole thing. Every time I thought I'd adjusted, something else would throw me off balance.

But the best part?

The best part was watching him.

I'd never seen him like this before.

It was different from the Lando I knew, he one who stole the covers and got way too competitive over Mario Kart. Here, he was something else. Sharper, faster, entirely in his element. He made it look effortless, easy, like it wasn't an entire circus of pressure balanced on his shoulders.

He had a way of making things seem simple.

A thousand moving parts, people in matching team kits speaking in rapid, clipped instructions, cameras flashing every few seconds, and somehow, he looked at ease. He looked happy.

And, okay, maybe that part got to me.

It had been easy to forget, in the quiet of hotel rooms and late-night drives, that this was who he was. That this was what he did. I'd always known, obviously, but knowing and seeing were two different things. He was fast, fast in a way that made my stomach drop when I watched him weave through corners, his car skimming inches from disaster.

Girls in papaya colors with posters and signs, shouting his name like he was a rockstar. People stopping him every few feet, hands reaching, cameras up. It was like stepping into an entirely different universe. And the weirdest part? He never stopped smiling.

But even with all of that, with the chaos and the pressure, he had been different with me. The same Lando I knew, not the one the world saw.

He was never Lando Norris with me.