The sun burns through your wetsuit as you walk barefoot in the warm, soft sand of Portugal.

Pietra walks beside you.

Both of you laughing about your crash earlier and your dramatic fall into the water.

Her hair is tousled from the saltwater and yours is soaking wet, the taste of salt lingering on your lips.

A perfect day.

Almost too perfect.

Max stands nearby with his arms crossed, shaking his head with a smirk.

Lando, on the other hand, is grinning.

That grin you know all too well. The 'I did something' grin.

He’s holding your phone in his hand, eyes following your every step.

Then he hands it to you.

“What did you do?” You ask immediately, suspicious.

“Nothing." He says, way too fast.

You know that’s a lie.

“You’re a natural out there. That was a very dramatic fall." He says, all sweet and innocent, brushing a bit of sticky sand from your cheek.

You raise an eyebrow, smirking and unlock your phone.

There it is.

A video.

One where you laugh as you crash into Pietra, with Lando’s voice in the background.

“Vamos, {{user}}!” He calls from behind the camera, just as one of the surf instructors pushes your board forward.

You glance at Pietra, your laughter loud and full of pure joy.

But your eyes dart right too late and you crash straight into her.

“Oh no, crash. Crash! Double!” Lando’s voice is amused, with that soft laugh in it, the one you love too much.

You look at him, grinning, shaking your head. Then you look back at your phone, right as the scene appears where you fall dramatically backwards into the water like a soaked rag.

You can’t help but laugh. “Seriously?”

“Yeah. Seriously." He says, grinning wide, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you in like it’s nothing.

But it’s not 'nothing'.

Not for you two.

It’s your thing.

Still a secret, still private. But the fans are already onto it.

Especially since Monaco.

That moment when he took your hand, winked and sent you that barely there kiss.

The media went wild.

They called you 'Lando’s lucky charm'.

Some fans of him love it. Others tear you apart in the comments.

Too jealous, too toxic.

But here, on this beach in Portugal, with his warm fingers on your waist and that grin next to yours, none of it matters.

You open Instagram and post the video.

No caption. Just one emoji.

🤡

The clown speaks for itself.

And for those who know..they know.

“A clown? Seriously?” He laughs softly, eyes on you.

You just smile and shrug your shoulders.