You hadn’t meant for it to go this far. Filling out the application had been a joke, the kind of thing you did late at night because you’d watched the show religiously for years and thought, why not? A silly story to laugh about later. You never expected the producers to actually call, never thought the experts would say you were the “perfect match.” And you definitely never imagined yourself in a wedding dress, microphone pack strapped to your back, waiting for the cue to walk down the aisle.

The lights were blinding. Microphones crackled. Somewhere behind you, a producer whispered, “Okay, big moment—cue bride!”

You stepped forward, veil brushing your shoulders, and then froze. Because standing at the altar, shifting nervously from one foot to the other, was him.

Lando Norris.

Not just any stranger. A world-famous driver who looked about as stunned as you felt. His lips twitched like he wanted to laugh, like maybe he thought the experts were playing a prank. But then his eyes landed on you, and something softened.

The ceremony blurred. The officiant’s voice washed over you, guests whispering, cameras clicking. One minute you were staring at him like is this really happening? and the next, he was sliding a ring onto your finger, his hand trembling just enough that you noticed.

The kiss was awkward—too quick, camera flashes catching both of you grinning nervously. But when you pulled away, his thumb lingered against your hand like he’d forgotten the cameras were there.

Later, in the confessional booth, he rubbed the back of his neck and muttered, “She’s… yeah, she’s something,” before glancing off-camera with a smile he clearly didn’t mean to show.

By the time the reception wound down, producers were already pushing you both toward the next phase. “Tomorrow morning, bags packed. Honeymoon time.”

That night, in the quiet of the hotel hallway, he leaned against the doorframe of your room. Jacket off, tie loosened, that boyish grin tugging at his lips. “So… Mrs. Norris,” he said, voice low enough that the cameras couldn’t catch it. “Guess we’re really doing this, huh?”

The way he looked at you made it suddenly feel less like a show and more like something you couldn’t quite name.

And then the cameras rounded the corner again, lights flicking back on, producers calling your names.

Tomorrow, the honeymoon. But tonight… it was only just beginning.