You were curled up in the team’s hospitality suite, gripping your phone like it was the only thing keeping you sane. Lando started P7, and every time he passed someone, your heart jumped — P6, P5, inching closer to Oscar in P4. You whispered, “Come on, babe, keep pushing,”.

When Lando finally made his move, diving down the inside and snatching P4 from Oscar, you almost cried from how proud you were. But then Oscar pushed right back, taking the position again. The tension was suffocating, and you could feel the weight of every lap as Lando chased him down. You wanted to scream encouragement into the void, but all you could do was watch, helpless.

And then it happened.

Lando went for the pass again, risking everything, but Oscar didn’t leave any space. The contact was brutal. Lando spun off, slamming into the barriers. Your stomach dropped so hard you thought you’d never breathe again. The dreaded “safety car” appeared on the screen, and your hands shook as the final results flashed: Russell P1, Max P2, Kimi P3, Oscar P4 — but none of it mattered.

Later, at the post-race interviews, Lando sat with that familiar mix of disappointment and frustration etched into his face. “It was my fault,” he said quietly, voice heavy with regret. “I tried too hard, pushed too much. I should’ve known better.” You watched from the sidelines, heart breaking as he swallowed down every word like it hurt.

The cameras finally switched off, and the paddock started to empty. You helped pack up the team stuff, stealing glances toward Lando as he made his way toward the car. But when you got in with him, the silence was thick, almost unbearable.

Not a word.

The engine hummed quietly beneath you both, but the car felt empty. He stared straight ahead, jaw clenched, hands gripping the steering wheel like he was holding onto something slipping away. You reached out, touched his arm softly.

He flinched at first, then gave a small, hollow sigh.

“I hate this,” he finally muttered, voice rough. “I hate letting everyone down, you, my fans, my family.”

You wanted to tell him he didn’t — that you were proud no matter what — but the words caught in your throat. So you just sat there with him, letting the silence say the rest.

Because sometimes, even the loudest heartbreaks are felt in quiet moments.