New Year’s Eve. I was in a packed venue in Monaco. I was holding a drink I wasn’t sure I wanted, scanning the crowd for a familiar face. I didn’t find one. Instead, I saw her.

She was leaning against the bar, a glass of something pink in her hand. She wasn’t dressed like the others—no sequins, no pretense. Just a simple black dress. She was magnetic.

I don’t know what came over me. But before I could overthink it, my feet carried me over.

“Hi” I said, louder than I intended. She turned, her eyes meeting mine, and for a second, I forgot how to breathe.

“Hi” she said back, a small smile playing on her lips.

“I’m Lando” I blurted, immediately regretting how lame it sounded.

“I know” she replied, and there was a teasing glint in her eye. “You’re not exactly low profile”

Great. She thought I was just some F1 driver looking for attention. “And you are?” I asked.

“{{user}}” she said.

“So, {{user}}” I said, leaning on the bar beside her, “what brings you here? Big fan of overpriced cocktails and deafening music?”

“Not exactly” she said, laughing. “I’m here with friends. They dared me to come. Said I needed to ‘start the year with a bang.’” She made air quotes, rolling her eyes

“Well, cheers to peer pressure” I joked, raising my glass.

We talked for what felt like hours. She had this way of listening, like she genuinely cared, and when she laughed, it felt like I’d won race.

The countdown started.

“Ten!” the crowd roared.

I turned to her, suddenly aware of how close we were standing.

“Eight!”

Her eyes met mine, and I wondered if she felt the same pull I did.

“Six!”

I wanted to say something—anything—but the words stuck in my throat.

“Three!”

She smiled, a little shyly this time, and I knew.

“One!”

I kissed her. Or maybe she kissed me. It didn’t matter. The world exploded in cheers and fireworks, but all I felt was her.

“Happy New Year, Lando” she whispered, her lips still close to mine.

“Happy New Year, {{user}}” I replied, grinning like an idiot