Chapter Text

Prologue: The Last Race

2041

Lando's POV

“Oscar and I wanted to thank you for all these wonderful years spent racing, growing together, and sharing this journey with all of you.

Today is a big day for us. One filled with both sadness and happiness, because we’re finally going to retire and be there full-time for our son, Eli.

I know that probably sounds boring when you’ve spent most of your life travelling at over 300 kilometres an hour… Maybe I’ll start pencilling in one or two golf sessions a week.”

I turned towards my husband, who was already looking at me with an unconvinced expression.

“If I agree to the golf, you’re coming to my cricket sessions, Lan,” Oscar replied with a smug little smile.

His face clearly said, I always get the last word.

Almost eighteen years.

Almost eighteen years, and this man still found a new way to make me fall in love with him every single day.

What had happened to the rookie who used to look at me with hearts in his eyes?

Well… he was probably still in there somewhere, hidden behind that far-too-satisfied smile.

Oscar spoke again.

“You’ve supported us through the championships, but also through our private lives…”

His voice cracked slightly on the last few words.

That was rare for Oscar. He almost never let his emotions get the better of him in front of the cameras. He could stay calm in a car travelling at more than three hundred kilometres an hour, through a disastrous strategy call, or during an endless press conference.

But today, there was no helmet for him to hide behind.

“Coming out wasn’t easy. But we always knew we could count on you. We may be leaving Formula One, but we’ll still come back and visit from time to time.”

The crowd gathered in front of the fan stage burst into applause.

Some people had tears in their eyes. Others simply looked as though they couldn’t believe we were actually announcing our retirement.

Guys… we’d been thinking about it for years.

But our passion for the sport, the adrenaline of the starts, and the sheer joy of racing each other wheel to wheel had always pushed the decision back.

Until…

My eyes found Eli.

Our son.

He had come into our lives in 2026, when Oscar was still in the early years of his Formula One career and I was convinced I could balance everything.

The races.

The travelling.

Our relationship.

And him.

For a long time, we had convinced ourselves that we were managing.

I could say he was the spitting image of his father, but that would be a lie.

His wavy, almost curly hair came from me. So did his bright blue eyes.

But his calm gaze, the way he watched people, the way he always thought before speaking… that was Oscar through and through.

He was sitting not far from us, a Red Bull cap firmly on his head for the sole purpose of annoying his parents.

When he noticed me looking, he lifted the brim slightly and gave me the most innocent smile he could manage.

Little traitor.

I wouldn’t change him for the world.

Eli would turn fifteen in a few weeks.

And I think that was when Oscar and I finally realised it was time to leave our helmets in the garage.

Too many weekends spent away from him.

Too many birthdays cut short.

Too many moments we would never get back.

Our little genius was about to leave home and continue his studies in Australia. At only fifteen, he was already preparing to begin an engineering degree on the other side of the world.

Even though I still couldn’t understand how he could spend hours talking about aerodynamics with his father instead of playing video games with me.

I turned my attention back to the crowd.

“After twenty-three seasons for me and nineteen for Oscar, we hope this final race will be ours.

One last time.

For him.

And for us.”

As usual…

We won.

I still remember the noise when we crossed the finish line.

Papaya flags waving everywhere.

Mechanics throwing themselves at one another.

Applause that seemed as though it would never stop.

When I climbed out of the car, my legs were shaking slightly. Not because of the race. Not even because of the exhaustion.

It was over.

Our final victory.

Our final race.

Oscar came over to me in parc fermé. For a few seconds, hidden behind our helmets and away from the cameras, his hand found mine.

I squeezed his fingers.

Neither of us spoke.

For once, we didn’t need to.

I took off my helmet and drew in a long breath.

For the first time in more than twenty years, I didn’t want to get back into a Formula One car.

I just wanted to go home.

To my family.