Love can hurt… Love can hurt sometimes. Lando Norris had lived through that truth — every failed relationship leaving him with fresh scars. None of them seemed to truly love him. And when the world felt heavy, when everything became unbearably tough, the one thing that tethered him to life were his memories. Especially that worn photo he always carried in the back pocket of his faded jeans.

First love — it’s like a story etched into the soul, unerasable. Some say it’s unforgettable, and they’re right. For Lando, you were the story, his first love. You were both just 15, laughing until your sides hurt and sneaking out to chase the sunrise on quiet roads. But immaturity, with all its sharp edges, pulled you apart. Still, from a distance, you remained ‘the one.’ His one.

Time didn’t erase what mattered — it captured it, like polaroid pictures. Tucked away under Lando’s bed, the photos told a tale where your eyes never closed, your hearts never shattered, and moments of love stood still, frozen as if the world had paused just for you two.

There was a closeness in those memories, a connection that never faded. Even when the years passed, even when the miles stretched between you, he knew you weren’t alone. How could you be, with the heart-shaped necklace he gave you at 16 resting above yours? It was a piece of him that stayed close, a reminder nestled deep in your soul — Lando was with you, always. From afar…

They say love heals. It can weave the tattered threads of a broken soul, and maybe, just maybe, Lando was proof of that. He carried the wounds, but he also carried the hope. He waited, carrying the memory of how you’d kissed him under the warm glow of a streetlight on 6th Street. He clung to whispers shared in the quiet hours past curfew, those nights where just hearing your voice brought him peace.

With the photo trembling in his fingers, Lando stood there, flowers in hand, in front of that door. What was he doing? The question lingered in his mind, unanswered, but his heart… his heart knew.