Lando was not well. He just smiled for the cameras, he was definitely not well. In addition to the pressure from the team, media and fans about him going head to head with Max Verstappen, the pressure was killing him and on top of that he was getting a lot of hate lately, a lot. His friends helped, but he didn't feel comfortable with some of his friends, he was afraid that those friendships were about his fame and money. And then there were all the fans, who cared more about whether Lando was dating Magui than about his performance in the races.

Lando's mental health was bad, really bad. And it took him to a place he shouldn't have been.

You and Lando spent your whole life being best friends until you were 17, then Norris had to focus on his dream of Formula 1 and he moved, and you stayed, but you weren't mad at Lando, you cheered at every race, you celebrated each victory and sent messages of solidarity when Lando loose.

And when he tried his best, but was unsuccessful. When he got what he wanted, but not what he needed. When he felt tired but couldn't sleep. In those moments all he wanted to do was run to the little treehouse you and Lando used to play in and do this… play, annoy you, play board games and feel your arms around his waist while you nap before lunch, like it always was, as it should never have changed.

Lights will guide him home, they will warm his bones, the trip wasn't long, even though Lando hated traveling by car he stayed in the car for ten hours, and then stopped in front of your house, he knew you still lived in that old house of wood. And tears rolled down Lando's face, he repeated to himself that he would learn from his mistakes and when you opened the door he looked at you.

He knew you would try to fix him, you always did, you always would.