The race was over, and I was walking back through the paddock when I heard a little voice yell my name.

“Lando!”

I turned and saw him—a boy, maybe five, clutching a cap almost too big for his head. His mum stood beside him, smiling apologetically, like she wasn’t sure if she should hold him back or let him run to me.

I crouched down. “Hey, mate. What’s your name?”

“Oliver!” he blurted out. “You’re my favorite driver ever!”

I signed his cap, grinning at his excitement. When I looked up, his mum’s eyes met mine. There was warmth there, and something else—something that made me want to stay.

“Would you…” I hesitated, then smiled at Oliver. “Want to see the car up close?”

His jaw dropped. “Really?!” He looked up at his mum, tugging her hand. “Mum, can we? Please?”

She laughed, flustered but glowing. “Only if Lando’s serious.”

“I’m serious,” I said, standing and gesturing for them to follow. “Come on. It’s not every day you get a tour from me.”

Oliver bolted ahead, leaving me walking beside her. She glanced at me, brushing hair from her face.

“You didn’t have to do this,” she said softly.

“I wanted to,” I admitted, holding her gaze. “It’s not just about the fans—it’s about the people who make me remember why I love this.”

Her smile lingered, and for the first time that day, I wasn’t thinking about the race.