You’d waited years for this.

Saved up for the flight. Camped the ticket queue. Spent hours gluing rhinestones to a cap that spelled LN4. It was your first Grand Prix in real life—not behind a screen, not through shaky livestreams on TikTok.

And you thought, maybe… just maybe… he’d notice you.

You stood outside the McLaren garage, gripping your sign like it meant something. You knew all the radio messages. His Twitch username. The exact color of his helmet.

You watched him walk by—race suit half-zipped, curls damp from the heat. He laughed at something Oscar said. Looked right through you.

Later, during the drivers parade, your voice cracked from shouting his name. Your phone was up, heart full of hope… until he waved toward the other side of the crowd. Blew a kiss to a little girl in a bucket hat.

You tried to tell yourself you were just happy to be here.

But it stung. Being invisible.

And still—you didn’t leave.

You stayed. For every lap. For every overtake. For every second he led that race like he owned the world.

And when he crossed the finish line in P1, you screamed so hard it felt like your lungs might shatter. Pushed your way to the front of the podium barricade, heart hammering as you stared up at him like he was sunlight in a race suit.

He looked perfect. Wild curls, flushed cheeks, champagne bottle clenched in one hand like a trophy.

And then he did it.

That iconic pop—thumb pushing down, pressure released in one smooth motion.

The crowd went feral.

You flinched with everyone else, but the mist hit your cheeks and glittered in your lashes. You couldn’t stop smiling, even though you were soaked, sweaty and breathless.

And then—he looked down.

Right at you.

Not past you. Not around you.

At you.

Time stretched.

And maybe it was just a second. Maybe the lights were playing tricks. But he smirked—barely there. The kind that says I see you now.

You didn’t move. Didn’t breathe.

Just stood there thinking—

I wish I was your girl.

He raised the bottle slightly. A toast? A tease?

You couldn’t tell.

Then he turned back to the cameras like nothing happened.

But your heart was in your throat.

And your lips curled into the softest smile.

Because maybe this was his move.

And now it’s yours.