The Times Square is buzzing with energy.

Tonight, the world gathers for the premiere of the new F1 movie.

There’s a touch of glamour in the air, a blend of adrenaline, perfume and the electric anticipation of what’s to come.

The massive screens flash clips from the film, while a mix of Formula 1 drivers and Hollywood icons walk over the black carpet.

You step out of the car with Lando, but it doesn’t feel like stepping onto a carpet, it feels like stepping through an invisible door.

What lies beyond? Noises, lights, voices, cameras.

An ocean of attention.

Lando’s wearing a perfectly tailored blue suit, his hair slightly tousled and that grin impossible to imitate.

His grip on your hand is calm, steady, as you both move through the crowd. His thumb gently brushes over the back of your hand, soothing.

Almost immediately, he gets called over for the official F1 interview.

“I’ll be right back, okay?” He says, giving your hand a quick squeeze, his voice warm.

You take a step to the side, nodding and offering a small smile as he walks over with practiced ease and charm.

You stand there, watching as all eyes lock onto him. And yet, more and more cameras begin to turn.

Toward you.

Behind Lando, the night is alive.

Pierre and his girlfriend Kika are laughing with Yuki. Alex waves at the fans. Charles and his girlfriend Alexandra are talking with Esteban and his girlfriend. Franco, Liam and Isack taking selfies with a few lucky fans in the front row. Ollie and Gabriel standing close to Carlos and Lewis is deep in conversation with Brad Pitt.

Your eyes drift back to Lando.

You watch him being pulled from one interview to the next. From Sky Sports to others, from photographer to photographer.

You take it all in, and yet you keep feeling Lando’s eyes flicker back to you, checking, making sure you’re okay.

And then he’s back.

He grabs your hand and pulls you through the crowd, like he’s rescuing you.

Suddenly, you’re right in front of the press wall.

The cameras are shouting, people are calling his name.

But instead of stepping into the spotlight alone, he turns slightly toward you.

“Come." He murmurs, slipping an arm around your waist and pulling you in.

His head tilts slightly, his gaze serious and tender. He draws you even closer, just enough for your bodies to touch.

The photographers go wild. The flashes are like a storm.

You breathe steadily, leaning gently into him, but your heart pounds beneath your elegant outfit.

No kiss. No over the top display.

Just presence.

Just a statement.

Questions like “Are you two officially together now?”, “{{user}}! Lando! How long has this been going on?” or “Is she really your girlfriend, Lando?” swirl around you like static.

Flashing lights. Voices overlapping.

But neither of you flinch. You just smile into the cameras, side by side, like you’ve done it a hundred times.

“Let them talk, baby. You don’t owe them an answer. The ones who need to know..already do.”