You didn’t expect a random Twitter reply to change your life.

It started months ago — a dumb meme about F1 drivers and their “unspoken riz,” and you threw in a reply under Lando’s photo: “Chaos energy + boyish charm = unfair advantage.”

And somehow… he replied. “Unfair? Nah. I call it natural talent.”

You assumed it would stop there. But it didn’t. He followed you. Slid into your DMs. And from there, things spiraled.

There were weeks of late-night voice notes, chaotic FaceTimes, trash-talking each other over sim racing, and you trying very hard not to crush on the goofy, fast-driving Brit who occasionally showed glimpses of something deeper.

You were just friends. Right?

Except here you were, months later, standing in the Austin paddock, the dry Texas heat clinging to your skin, nerves fluttering like crazy. He had invited you. Personally. After so many delays, timezone mishaps, and “almosts,” it was finally happening.

“Hey,” a voice said from behind you, and your heart stuttered.

You turned, and there he was — Lando Norris in the flesh. Race suit half-zipped, curls wild under a cap, that familiar smirk tugging at his lips.

“You’re taller in person,” you said, trying to play it cool.

“And you’re exactly how I imagined,” he replied, eyes locked on yours. “Except better.”

He stepped closer, and for a second, it was like the paddock noise faded.