Dear Lando

𝟸𝟹 ♡ Don't Blame Me

Don't Blame Me By Taylor Swift

The paddock buzzed with energy on that Sunday, the air thick with anticipation for the upcoming race. I tried my hardest to keep my mind focused on the challenge ahead. My siblings were in town for the race and I wanted nothing more than to make them proud. 

In these past days, I had managed to dodge, keep my head down, and avoid every situation that put me in the path of Lando and Max. I couldn't afford the distraction that they both were. 

As I made my way toward my room, a familiar voice beckoned from behind, "Azalea! Hey, wait up."

I froze, a sinking feeling settling in as I turned to face the man I'd been avoiding. It was Lando.

"Hey Lan," I greeted, forcing a smile that he hopefully couldn't see through. 

"How are you feeling? I haven't seen you in a while," he questioned, catching up to me with genuine concern etched across his face.

"Yeah, sorry I'm good. Since being sick I've been just heading back to the hotel after being done here," Lies, lies, lies. 

Lando pulled me into a side hug—a gesture that felt as intimate as we could get standing in the middle of the paddock. "Hey, that's okay. It's not your fault you're sick. Let me walk you to where you're going," he offered, extending a sturdy arm. 

"I'd rather just walk alone, but thank you. I appreciate it, Lan," I mustered a smile, the weight of my lies heavy on my shoulders. 

He stepped back, and as a flash of hurt shone in his eyes,  I felt the pang of guilt intensify. Lying to Lando, who had been nothing but genuine and caring, weighed on my conscience. I couldn't bear to look into those kind eyes and not tell him the words he so longed to hear. 

So, with a heavy heart, I turned on my heel and continued my way back to my room as tears now flowed freely down my face.

And as today didn't already weigh heavy on my mood, there was Max. Standing just outside the garages. I kept my pace as I strode past him, looking down to avoid eye contact. And as I brushed past, I could feel the lingering stare of those watercolored eyes that I knew would break me even further. 

~~~~~~~

The Monaco Grand Prix unfolded with the sun shining and a roaring crowd on the narrow streets of Monte Carlo.

I kept my focus razor-sharp and felt the adrenaline surge through my veins as I weaved through the iconic streets, determined to make this race a triumph.

As the laps ticked away, I found myself back up in the top 8, a major improvement from the driving I've been recently doing. Every turn demanded concentration, every acceleration a calculated risk.

Then, the atmosphere shifted.

A collective gasp swept through the crowd, and my heart skipped a beat. My radio crackled with urgency as Benji's voice cut through the ambient sounds of the race. "Red flag, red flag. Slow down, slow down."

I eased off the throttle, my mind racing with questions. "What happened? Was there a crash?"

"Erm, yes. A bad crash at corner 10. Please proceed with caution," Benji's voice held a tense tone.

Corner 10? It felt like the pulse of the race came to a screeching halt, my car inching closer to the crash site. "Who crashed?" I asked, my voice betraying a mix of worry and urgency.

A hesitant pause followed, and then Benji's response crackled through, "Erm..."

"Benji. Who crashed?" I pressed with a growing concern.

Time seemed to slow as I approached the scene. The sun disappeared behind the clouds, leaving a gloomy dark sight in front of me. 

There, tangled in the barriers, was the other Red Bull car.

Max.

My vision blurred. I drowned out all other sounds as I took in the mess in front of me. Every thought of standing on the podium today went out the window as more worry for Max filled my head. Every shared moment with him flashed before my eyes as I pulled over and hastily climbed out of my car.

Approaching his cockpit, I fought back sobs, bending down to speak to him. "Max?" I choked out. "We're going to get you out of here, okay? Help will be here soon. Just hang on." I touched his chest, offering what little comfort I could in the face of this nightmare.

"Azalea?" His voice, crackled and raspy spoke through his helmet. 

"I'm here, Max. I'm not going anywhere," I assured.

His eyes drifted closed, falling heavy. 

"Please, Max. I need you. I need us to be okay," I stared into his closed eyes, my focus unwavering even as safety vehicles and personnel descended upon the scene.

Crying silently, I stepped away to give them space to extract Max from the overturned car. The emergency response team swarmed the scene, their practiced movements moving all around me.

A gentle hand touched my shoulder from behind, and a marshal appeared beside me. "That was a selfless thing you did back there," she said, a small, appreciative smile gracing her face. "Would you like to ride with him to the hospital?"

I nodded, gratitude and fear mingling in my expression. "Please," I replied, turning my attention back to Max, who remained trapped in the wreckage. The gravity of the situation weighed heavily on my shoulders.