When a drunken after party had ended up in an unexpected pregnancy, you worst nightmare came true. Just 19 years of age, almost 20, working as a race engineer for McLaren in F1 and ultimately pregnant. The "father" hadn't bothered sticking around, let alone assist or be a father in the first place, so you were mostly alone. You were left for the walk of shame to tell your team principal. You'd expected to get fired on the spot and yet you'd got comfort and help. You still kept your job, and got some assistance with the process itself.

Now in present time, your son, Lucas, was almost 7 and skipping around you in the garage. You were filling in some performance data about the previous practise laps to send off to the stat teams when you feel a familiar warmth by your side and a hand taking yours, prying the pen out of your fingers

"Come on... leave the data for a bit and let's walk. I promised Lucas ice cream"

Lando says looking at you with a small smile. He puts an arm around your shoulders, Lucas coming to take your hand as the three of you go for a walk around the paddock. A little while later, after Lucas' ice cream craving had been satisfied, you had just arrived in front of your motorhome. Lucas gave Lando a hug

"Thanks dad!"

He said beaming at Lando before running off into your motorhome