The engine quiets softly as the car stops in front of the school building. Lando immediately turns to you, that soft, excited smile on his face. The one he always gets when something really matters to him.

“Ready, mum to be?” He murmurs lovingly.

You laugh softly. “Only if you’re ready, Champ.”

He chuckles quietly and steps out. Carefully, he offers you his hand. His fingers close firmly around yours as you slowly step out. Your other hand rests protectively on your belly. His free hand stays close to your back, ready to support you.

As soon as you’re side by side, cheers break out.

Children stand in a line in front of the entrance, waving little black and white flags. Some shout his name, others just wave wildly.

Lando stops, visibly touched. A few teachers approach, somewhat formally, but with beaming faces.

Lando steps forward, still holding your hand, shaking each of their hands. “Thank you for letting me be here. Really, it means a lot to me.” Then he turns slightly to you and gently pulls you closer to his side. “This is my fiancée, {{user}}. And the future mother of our little bundle of joy.” He says, pride audible in his voice.

The teachers immediately smile even warmer, congratulating both of you. Photos are taken. Children get to stand next to him, some shy, others babbling nonstop.

You watch him bend down to each one, ask questions, laugh. Never rushed, never distracted. Every now and then, he glances at you.

Eventually, he deliberately takes your hand again as two teachers lead you into the building.

In the entrance hall, you both stop. A large wall is decorated with pictures of colored in race cars and helmets. Some helmets are clearly inspired by his own designs, neon, patterns, tiny details he immediately recognizes.

And above it, in large letters :

Congratulations Lando. F1 World Champion 2025.

You feel his hand slowly move back to your lower back, warm and supportive. “I was smaller than most of them here…and now this…” He says softly.

In the classroom, it’s more hectic. Children talking loudly immediately quiet down as Lando walks in with you. At the front, a PowerPoint ready. Photos of a boy with an oversized helmet, go kart tracks, races in the rain. Then an old photo of him in this school.

Lando sits at the front on a chair, hands loosely intertwined. He scratches the back of his neck, embarrassed, when a particularly old photo appears.

You sit slightly off to the side, behind the children. Your hand gently strokes your belly. You watch him with a calm, proud smile, not because of the titles, but because of the way he sits there.

Grounded, grateful, real.

As the presentation ends, large letters appear : Questions for Lando

Immediately, a sea of little hands shoots up. Lando leans back and laughs, embarrassed.

One child called on by the teacher jumps up. “Why didn’t you give up when it was hard?”

Lando becomes quiet for a moment. “Because as a child, I was just like you. I had a dream. And many people who believed in me.” He turns his head and looks at you. “And today I have even more reasons not to give up.”

The children turn to look at you curiously. “Is that your baby?” You nod, chuckling. “Yeah, it is.”

Another child looks at Lando excitedly. “Will the baby be a racing driver too?”

Lando laughs. “Only if it wants to. No pressure. Maybe it wants to be a chef…or a teacher.”

“Do you talk to the baby before you race?" Another child asks softly. He looks back at you with a soft smile. “Yeah. Always.”