Thanks to Norris

part 33-sunday

Sunday – 2:12 PM

The sliding doors parted again — another cluster of tired travelers stepped through — but still no Josi.

You stood just beyond the security barrier, sunglasses on, leaning against your car. It was a sunny Sunday, and the airport was humming. You'd parked right up front — thanks to Max's "I know a guy" parking pass — and every time the doors opened, you straightened, scanning for her familiar walk.

That's when it started.

A girl to your left whispered to her friend. Then another approached, smiling nervously.

Fan: "Sorry — are you Y/N? From Max's stream last night?"

You smiled, lifting your sunglasses.

You: "Guilty."

That was enough. Within minutes, there was a modest crowd forming, phones out, smiles wide, polite but buzzing.

Fan 1: "We loved the stream!"
Fan 2: "Are you and Lando dating??"
Fan 3: "Can you say hi to my friend Anna, she's obsessed with you?"

You took selfies, signed a few things someone randomly pulled out — a notebook, a phone case, even an F1 cap with five different signatures already on it. You chatted casually, laughing with them, grateful for how kind they were even in their curiosity.

But just as you posed for a group shot, someone shrieked behind the line.

Fan (shouting): "JOSI!"

You turned in time to see her appear — dragging her small suitcase, sunglasses perched perfectly on her nose, that effortless air of travel-glam without trying. The crowd turned, some now pointing at her too, and she grinned as she walked toward you, eyebrows raised.

Josi: "Wow. You brought an entourage."

You: "You should've seen it before I got mobbed. I was gonna make you a cute sign."

Josi (laughing): "Too late. I feel like I'm arriving at a red carpet."

You helped her with the suitcase, looping it into the back seat, then opened the passenger door with a mock bow.

You: "Mademoiselle."

Josi: "Merci. Drive me somewhere with iced coffee and zero chaos."

From behind you, a fan shouted:

Fan: "Josi, how was the date??"

She smirked but didn't answer — slipping into the car like the trained soft-launch queen she was.

You gave one last wave to the group before getting in and pulling out of the lot. The fans cheered as you drove off — it felt weirdly like a movie moment.

As soon as the windows were up, you looked over.

You: "So? Details. You owe me at least three paragraphs."

Josi took off her sunglasses and sighed happily.

Josi: "Okay. One: we had dinner at La Môme — he booked it, private table, killer view. Two: I wore the red dress and didn't spill a single drop of wine on it, thank you. Three: he asked if I'd be at Silverstone."

You blinked.

You: "Wait, wait — he invited you to my home race?  That's almost... official?"