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LANDO'S POV
A massive weight fell off my shoulders as my car passed the finish line in none other than first place. My eyes began to tear up, and I struggled to get any words out as my team congratulated me over the radio.
I pulled into Parc Fermé and sat there for a few seconds, realizing everything I had just accomplished and what it had taken to get here. I eventually pulled myself out of the car and stood on top of it, celebrating before running over to my team, who quickly began throwing me into the air.
Oscar, who finished second, and Carlos, who finished third, both came over to congratulate me, patting me on the back.
The three of us made our way to the briefing room, where we all cooled down, especially since it was incredibly hot in Abu Dhabi, and they asked me how it felt to be an official F1 champion.
"It feels incredible, mate. Like, seriously—I feel like I'm on another high," I explained, throwing my head back against the chair, hoping for more air.
"You beat me to it, I guess," Carlos said, sarcasm lacing his voice as we all laughed at the comment.
Eventually, we were taken to the podium. Carlos went out first, followed by Oscar, and then myself.
I waved at everyone as I walked out and gave myself a moment to take in the British national anthem playing in the background. I scanned the crowd, hoping to find her, even though I already knew she wasn't there. I had messed up too badly for her to come.
