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Summary
“Lando won.”
Charles’ breath hitches, an uncomfortable knot appearing suddenly in his throat. He didn’t see the celebrations, but he can picture them because they’re what he’d do, he thinks about it all the time, the way he’d be unable to stop smiling and how he’d probably cry and how his family would hold him and his team would sing for him—
“I know.”
Max’s face pulls down, and then the expression is gone.
“You’ve been spiralling about it for months,” Max says. His voice is oddly soft. “Every time we see each other, you are ranting about how unfair it is, that they don’t deserve that car. And now you have nothing to say?”
He hasn’t been spiralling. That’s ridiculous.
“It is what it is.”
//
Lando wins the 2025 WDC. Charles struggles to cope.