The adrenaline doesn't wear off the way it usually does post-race.

It stays lodged in my chest, buzzing under my skin even after we're back in the hotel room, door shut, curtains half drawn, the noise of media day reduced to a distant echo, replaced by the comfortable quiet between us. I drop onto the bed and laugh breathlessly because the fact keeps replaying in my head no matter how many times I try to move past it.

We just told the truth to the world.

Oscar's phone vibrates once. Twice. Then again, longer this time, like it's offended by being ignored. Mine follows immediately, lighting up the bedside table in frantic pulses.

"This feels illegal". I say, staring at notifications stacking faster than I can read. There's no chance this season of Drive To Survive isn't about us. Or worse, it might be about us and this relationship only.

Oscar glances down at his phone screen, eyebrows lifting higher with every second. "I think we've accidentally caused an international incident."

Mentions flood in. Tags blur together. Notifications don't pause long enough to read. My name and his are suddenly inseparable, linked everywhere like a permanent headline. Something reckless sparks inside me, bright and dangerously adorable.

"I want to do something worse", I announce.

Oscar turns to face me with full of confusion. "I don't like how quickly you come up with that idea. We just got back less than five minutes."

"A selfie", I say, already looking for the best lightning angle. "A proper and casual one."

Oscar blinks, completely dumb-founded, "We just – "

"I know, but like... more officially. Also, statistically speaking, my posts get millions of likes so.... better engagement."

"That's not how statistics work."

"It absolutely is. Wanna bet on how many likes this post is gonna get?"

Chaos starts immediately. I hold the phone too high, too low or too close to our face. One photo catches my chin at a criminal angle. Another one makes Oscar look like he's reconsidering every life choice that led him here.

"No", he says, squinting at the screen. "Delete that."

"I look great", I argue. "You look mysterious."

"I look possessed."

I snap one more pic while he's mid-complaint. He groans and leans away, which only makes it worse. "You're sabotaging my image so no one wants me anymore".

"Ouch you found out about my scheme already?"

We're talking over each other now, half laughing, half bickering. Oscar lunges for the phone, I twist away like this is a competitive sport.

"Give it to me", he says.

"No."

"You can't even see the framing."

"I don't need to. It's all about vibes."

"LAN—"

The last one happens by accident, Oscar leans in to look at the screen, my arm relaxes, and I press the button without thinking. We're close, shoulders pressed together, both of us laughing mid-argument, eyes slightly unfocused, still flushed from the day. Unstaged in a way you can't fake.

"This", I say softly. "I want to post this one."

Oscar studies if for a second then nods. "Yeah. Okay. That's us."

I tag his account, add a single orange heart then hit post. Oscar is still complaining about the audacity I've got to claim myself a photographer when only taken horrible pictures but that doesn't last long because his phone starts to lose its mind.

The comment section under our picture fills so fast it looks like it's glitching.

@alex_albon: ABOUT TIME
@alex_albon: I HAVE BEEN WAITING
@alex_albon: the ORANGE HEART is criminally on brand
@alex_albon: do not think you're getting away without details
@alex_albon: stay where you are

More load in.

@georgerussell63: So THIS is why you never answered my texts
@georgerussell63: Proud of you both

@charles_leclerc: Finally I can stop pretending I didn't notice

@carlossainz55: I leave for five minutes and this happens?

@mclaren: orange hearts forever

@f1: We're going to need a bigger heart emoji

@hattiepiastri: saw it coming from dinner table

@lewishamilton: congrats

My phone vibrates violently with text messages and phone calls

Alex Albon:
ANSWER ME
I KNOW YOU SEE THIS

George Russell:
Be honest
Did the fanfiction help you make up your mind
Or was this inevitable

I choke on a laugh. Oscar's phone starts ringing. Then mine. Then his again. Alex and George taking turns calling like a coordinated attack, more annoying than ever.

"I'm not answering", Oscar says, eyes wide, laughing hard. "Your friends are unbelievable."

I drop my phone face down on the bed like it's radioactive. "Same. They are not my friends in this moment. They can cope with that."

We sit there listening to the buzz fade into silence as both phones are flipped over, the world temporarily muted. Breathing side-by-side. My heart is still racing, but it's lighter now.

"Okay", I say, standing abruptly. "I need to change before I melt into the carpet."

I take two steps toward the bathroom before there's a knock on the door. Another one. Then aggressive banging.

"LANDO", Alex's voice, unmistakable.

"OPEN UP", George adds. "WE BROUGHT SNACKS AND KINDER EGGS."

I groan loudly and rest my forehead against the door as I open it small enough for my eyes to look through. "Wow, I thought the whole gird would follow you guys here."

Charles beams at me from the hallway. "We dismissed them. This is an invite-only experience."

"Where's your invitation then?"

Alex immediately pushes past me with a bag of chips, grinning like he has just won lottery. "Relax, we don't bite."

Kimi follows quietly, popcorn and Monster cans full in his arms. I blink helplessly, "Why is Kimi here?"

Oscar looks equally confused. "Is his age... legal to listen to love stories?"

George grins. "He fed Lando in Imola when he forgot to eat and depressed as hell over the FIA investigation. He earned premium access."

"Also because Mercedes is the only pair arrived early enough."

Kimi shrugs, entirely unfazed but super happy, "Who's my new mommy now?"

They pile into the room despite my objection, snacks everywhere, drinks handed out like this is a planned event. George and Kimi take the bed and lie down lazily when Charles stands up and collects all our phones for "better focus".

Alex points at us dramatically. "Alright. Start talking."

George smirks. "Full version. No skipping any small details and emotional bits."

Oscar looks at me, eyes wide, stunned, amused, something like joy flickering underneath it all. "At least", he says quietly, "we don't have to hide anymore."

I exhale, long and loud, then laugh, surrendering.

"Fine", I say. "But you're all staying for the long version. And all of you are paying for our dinner."