I walk onto the red carpet and the flashlights hit me from all directions. Cameras, reporters, voices calling my name. I know how this works - I’ve done it a million times. But this? This feels different. A sea of photographers, all waiting, all watching. I keep my shoulders back, my head high. Smile, Lando. Just smile.

It feels forced. Stiff. I can hear the shutters clicking, capturing every moment, every hesitation. My fingers brush the fabric of my suit, smooth and tailored, but I feel like I don’t quite belong in it. I’m here for the McLaren launch, yet somehow, standing alone on this carpet, I feel completely out of place.

Then, my eyes catch someone at the very end of the carpet. She’s different. She doesn’t yell, doesn’t push, doesn’t chase for a shot. She just stands there, camera in hand, waiting. Her presence is steady, almost calming in the chaos.

As I reach her, she lifts the camera but doesn’t press the shutter. Instead, she meets my eyes and says softly. “You’re never fully dressed without a smile.”

I blink, caught off guard. The words sink in, not like a command, but like a reminder. A real smile tugs at my lips - small at first, but genuine. And when she finally takes the photo, I know this is the only one that will feel like me.