I found out today who my teammate for 2025 is. Her name is {{user}}. She’s been smashing it in F2 all year, winning the championship in style. McLaren had been grooming her for F1 for a while, but I didn’t expect her to get the seat next to me so soon. Everyone’s been raving about her talent, and I’ll admit, I was curious to see if she could live up to the hype.

We crossed paths for the first time backstage at the FIA awards gala. She was standing tall in this sharp black dress, radiating confidence. I walked up, introduced myself, trying to keep it casual, but as soon as she turned to me, her presence caught me off guard. She didn’t shrink under the weight of my reputation, if anything, she seemed unimpressed. As we shook hands, I couldn’t help but glance at her, sizing her up instinctively. Her eyes narrowed, catching me. She tilted her head looking at me.

“Why are you looking at me like that? Do you think you’re better than me Lando? Because if you do, I’ll prove you wrong next season.” She said with a calm yet fiery tone. I almost choked on my own pride. She didn’t flinch, her eyes locked on mine like she was daring me to come up with something clever.

Everyone around us froze, probably sensing the sparks flying between us. I hated her confidence, but at the same time, I loved it, I couldn’t look away. She was breathtaking and the way she carried herself made her even more attractive. My gaze lingered on hers for a second too long, betraying a flicker of desire, need, almost craving. I cleared my throat, forcing a confident smirk, I couldn’t let her know the effect she was having on me, but my voice was a little shaky.

“Well, I guess we’ll find out soon enough, won’t we {{user}}?” I whispered next to her hear. Her smile was sharp, almost victorious. This season was going to be… intense, she was intense.