You can barely hear the roaring crowd anymore.

You’re standing at the barrier, your heart is pounding like crazy, your hands are trembling and it feels like your chest might burst.

The 2025 British Grand Prix was..pure, nerve shredding chaos.

Crash. Yellow flag. Rain. Then more rain. Yellow flag again. Safety Car. Another crash. Safety Car again.

And then, on lap 44, the 10 seconds penalty for Oscar and suddenly, Lando’s in the lead.

You don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Everyone around you is screaming, but you’re holding your breath.

No one has any idea what’s happening anymore, who’s on what tires, who pitted when, who’s where. Total madness.

But he did it, his first win at home.

You’re right at the front, pressed against the barrier. Next to you is his mum, Cisca.

Her eyes are sparkling, tears running down her cheeks, but she’s smiling through them. A little farther away, his dad, grandparents, sisters and a few close friends.

Everyone is here.

The atmosphere is electric with emotion. It feels like the air itself is shimmering with joy, relief, pride and possibly a bit of leftover tire smoke.

You look toward the entrance of the pit lane and there he is.

He stops in front of the number 1 board, but he doesn’t move.

As if he needs a moment to believe it’s real or like he's scared if he moves, the win might disappear.

Then, slowly, he climbs out of the cockpit, the dark visor on his helmet reflecting the grey sky.

He stands on top of his car like a victorious knight, arms raised high, then jumps down and is immediately swallowed by a sea of papaya orange bodies.

A wild storm of hugs, tears, shouts and fist bumps.

“He did it! My boy really did it!” Cisca says beside you, half sobbing, half laughing as she wraps her arm around yours.

You just nod, your throat tight with emotion.

He's achieved one of his dreams.

Then the screen shows the Lando grandstands. Even hours before the race, it was more than just a fan section.

It was its own universe.

A glowing sea of neon yellow, covered in massive ‘LN’ flags, caps, signs, shirts, banners, everything screams Lando.

This isn’t just any group of fans. It’s family.

Strangers bound by the same emotion. Pride, Hope and Love for their favorite driver.

They jumping, crying, holding each other tight. Parents, kids, teens with painted faces and dyed hair, fans who’ve followed every practice, every quali, every race and today, finally, they’re here to witness it.

They’re all shouting his name. They’re all united, proudly wearing his merch.

And in that moment, you know, Today isn’t just the day millions are proud of their driver.

Today is the day he’s finally proud of himself, too.

"He's gonna frame that shoey." You whisper and Cisca chuckles through her sniffles.

He’s called to the scale, the next step in protocol, but Zak points in your direction.

You see his face, and even with the helmet still on, you know he’s smiling. His stride is quick, almost searching.

Then he stops, throws his arms around his mum. So tightly, you think they might fall over.

And then he turns to you. You don’t have a second to prepare.

He turns toward you faster than you expect, jumps with joy, adds a little dance to it, then grabs your waist, lifts you over the barrier and spins you around.

“I did it, baby! I F***ING WON!” He shouts, head thrown back.

He sets you down, rips the helmet from his head and hastily pulls off the soaked balaclava.

His hair is wet, plastered to his forehead, and his smile..god, his smile is full of disbelief, wide open and alive.

His hand slides to your lower back, pulling you tightly into him, his forehead resting against yours, arm wrapped around you.

“I love you, baby!" He whispers, voice trembling, before he kisses you.

The cheering grows louder, fans screaming, cameras flashing and mechanics cheer.

But in that moment, there’s only you two and only one thing that matters..he did it.

And you are there. With him.