Thanks to Norris

part 87- you

The rest of the evening passed in flashes, like a reel I couldn't pause.

Microphones shoved in my face, bright lights, questions that all blurred into the same one: "How does it feel to be World Champion?"

I smiled, I answered, I tried to sound composed. But inside, my heart was still racing. Still stuck in that hug.

Lewis found me again, slipping past a row of journalists, pulling me into a side hug that was all warmth.
"You know," he said softly, away from the cameras, "I saw myself in you today. That hunger. That fire. Don't let anyone take it away from you."

I blinked, half laughing. "Lewis Hamilton just compared himself to me?"

He smirked. "No. I compared you to me. That's different." And then he was gone again, swept back into the chaos.

George appeared next, practically bouncing on his heels. "I told you to breathe, didn't I?!" His grin was so wide I couldn't help but laugh. He shook my shoulders playfully before pulling me into a quick hug. "Enjoy it. First one's always the sweetest."

Carlos was calmer — he always was. He clasped my hand, then pulled me into a hug that lasted just a second longer than I expected. "You drove like a champion today. You deserve this. Every bit."

One by one, they came — drivers, engineers, old rivals, even journalists who had once doubted me. Everyone wanted a piece of the new champion.

And I gave it, because that's what was expected.

But every time the flash of a camera blinded me, every time the champagne sprayed and laughter rang, my mind flickered back. To the shade behind hospitality. To his voice. His hug. His silence.

Hours later, after the podium, after the anthem, after the team photo with bottles spraying into the night sky, I finally found a moment to myself. Alone in the garage, still in my race suit, champagne drying sticky on my skin.

My phone buzzed.

A message.

From Lando.

It was short. Just six words.

"Meet me. Last corner. Midnight."

My breath caught.

Because even with the trophy sitting twenty feet away, even with the world calling my name... I knew this was the real finish line.

The trophy was sitting twenty feet away, gleaming under the lights, but for once I ignored it. Instead, I picked up my phone.

I already knew the photo I wanted to post. The one the team photographer had snapped right as I'd jumped into the arms of my mechanics, champagne exploding behind me. My face said everything words couldn't.

I typed slowly, thumbs trembling just a little.

"World Champion. Still doesn't feel real. Grateful for every lap, every sacrifice, and every person who believed in me. We did this. 🏆✨ #FinalLap #WorldChampion"

I hit post before I could second-guess it.

The notifications started instantly.

Josi commented first: "The future is here. 👑 So proud of you."
George chimed in right after: "Told you to breathe 😂 Congrats, champ!"
Carlos: "You drove like one all season. Congratulations, campeón."
Even Charles dropped a quiet "I always knew you had it." with a red heart.

The likes were coming in so fast my phone practically buzzed out of my hand. Teammates, rival drivers, friends back home—everyone was piling in. The world was watching. The world was celebrating.