It had been one of the most horrifying crashes of the year — a collision so brutal it left Lando’s car mangled beyond recognition alongside Max's. The sight of the wreckage froze your blood, but it was the deafening silence on the team radio that truly stopped your heart. There were no words, no sounds from Lando. It felt like an eternity before someone finally spoke.

The halo had done its job, shielding Lando’s head and saving his life, but that offered only a little comfort in the chaos. The marshals worked swiftly to extract him from the shattered remains of the car. When they finally pulled him out, he was unconscious. The pit lane was hushed with a collective breath of anxiety, everyone waiting, praying for good news.

“They’re going to take him straight to the hospital…” his manager told you, his voice steady but tinged with worry. His words cut through the buzz of adrenaline and fear around you. “I’ll go with him. I’ll let you know if anything happens.” And with that, he was gone, sprinting toward the ambulance as it prepared to speed away.

You stood frozen, watching as the ambulance disappeared into the distance. Fear clawed at your chest, but you refused to give in to despair. He had to be okay. He had to. And in that moment, as the sound of sirens faded, you realized just how deeply Lando had embedded himself into your heart. You couldn't lose him — not now, not ever.