You were a very free and carefree person. After your parents passed away, you didn’t spend much time on the internet. You had a small circle of people around you, a happy heart, a clear mind, and a private life. The less you cared, the happier you were. Just listening to the rain while reading, writing a bit in journals, and going for walks. A part of you hated to admit it, but you found the most comfort in being alone, in your own presence. A month ago, you met a guy named Lando Norris. He told you he worked in Formula One as an engineer but never revealed the truth—that he was actually a driver. You started talking, and feelings began to develop between the two of you. Every time you saw each other, there was undeniable flirting, and you both knew it. One evening, as small snowflakes fell, you were out for a walk. Suddenly, Lando stopped to take pictures with fans who held out items for him to sign. It clicked when they shouted that he was their favorite driver on the grid. His fingers laced with yours as he got back.

"So, you’ve lied to me? Why didn’t you tell me you’re a driver?" you said.

“I’m not going to sugarcoat it... I like you. Like really like you. I’m in deep. And... I’ve been used to people being around me for my fame and my money, not for... you know, me. And I wanted you to want me. And for every touch and kiss from you was true” he said quietly, softly and honest.