The descent has already begun when the cabin lights dim, soothing passengers into thinking everything is proceeding exactly as planned. Outside the small window, the land has started to rise toward us, scattered lights tracing roads and borders I don't yet recognize and for a fleeting foolish second, I thought the worst part is already over.

Oscar is still sleeping soundlessly beside me, shoulders warm against mine, one arm draped over my body, his face fully buried in my neck. A few engineers murmur quietly around us, headphones on, laptops wide open, still trying to finish the rest of their work before we land.

Then out of nowhere, the captain shows up, voice calms but carries an edge I wish I didn't notice. "Lando, Oscar. Could you please come over here with me for a moment?"

We unbuckle at the same time, movements mirrored without discussion and walk the narrow aisle toward the front of the plane. The captain politely asks us to come inside the cockpit then hands over Oscar his phone. "Zak is on the line and he wants to speak to both of you."

Oscar takes the phone without asking and switches it to speaker mode so all of us can catch up with news the old CEO wants to deliver. Zak's voice comes through immediately, stripped off all padding, asking about our estimated arrival time. When the captain said we would land in 15 minutes, there's a pause on the line, not the one that shows hesitation but calculation.

"Listen carefully then. The situation has escalated in the last few hours. We've received confirmation that a crowd has already formed outside the airport."

Oscar starts firing all possible questions, how and why, tries to assemble something logical out of chaos but Zak couldn't be more useful. "We don't know. We have no source to identify the leak. It spreads fast and wide, which makes the whole thing unpredictable."

Oscar's voice stays even but I can feel the tension in the way his knee presses harder into mine. "Is it a protest in order to remove us from the country?"

"Some of it, yes". Zak doesn't elaborate, he doesn't have to. The silence is loud enough to fill the cockpit. "We are being advised not to land, at least not now."

I'd be lying if I said I didn't expect this possibility but listening to Zak's information makes everything suddenly real in a way nothing else has yet. "What if we still want to land? We must get Oscar to the race."

"Once you are through immigration, control becomes uncertain. There's a risk of temporary detainment. If things escalate even worse, response times may not be fast enough to reach you and guarantee a clean extraction."

"There's an alternation though", Zak adds in quickly before the fear roots deep in us, "Land in Singapore. Safe country, visa on arrival, strong security and the country adores you two."

The caption clears his throat next to me, already adjusted the flight route in his head but still asks for confirmation, "If we're diverting, I'll need the decision now."

Oscar turns his head and looks at me, searching my face not for permission but confirmation. That familiar quiet understanding passes between us without any word needed to be said. His firm voice leaves no room for me to argue and it'll be stupid to pick up a fight with him now when I'm not the one who is risking my title.

"We're not landing. Go directly to Singapore."

Over the phone, Zak is still on the other line, I can hear him moving, shoving stuffs away. "Andrea and I are arranging travel, we'll be with you within 24 hours. Take some rest and stay together". Then he ends the call.

***

Singapore takes us in like we are just two ordinary boys exploring the world. No secondary checks or whispered conversations. The immigration officer barely glances at our faces before waving us through. Our relationship doesn't precede us the way it matters in other places and I am deeply grateful for that.

I don't realize how tightly I've been wound until the hotel room door shuts behind us and the silence feels earned. My hands find the trace of Oscar immediately, wrap tightly around his waist when my phone breaks our moment. Zak.

"They knew. They fucking knew the whole thing beforehand." – Zak is furious, he talks fast, curses overflown and fully stressed. He doesn't ask if we were fine or where we were, just keeps going on with the massive amount of information. "The crowd was never spontaneous. They posted shits anonymously, let people shimmer in hatred and start making plans."

He exhales shakily, a kind of exercise I used to do with him to calm both of us down when something horrible happens. "That's how they did it. They don't refuse outright to lose their position next season. They get to say they issued visa, let us enter the country without making it a trouble for us then wash their hands when the crowd does the rest for them."

Oscar's jaw tightens so much that his teeth must be in pain. "Would it have work?"

"It would have if you had landed. We dodged a bullet today."

"Now they're pretending it was misinformation, claiming they didn't leak or post anything. Police dispersed the crowd once it was clear you weren't arriving. But people are still posting online and saying they would come for you soon. This is the real threat that would eventually happen if you tried to re-enter the country."

The call ends a minute later, not because there's nothing left to say but because everything important has already been exchanged. I try to end the call as soon as possible, knowing I'm saving them time so they can be here faster. I left the phone fall onto the bed then joke around with Oscar. "At least we didn't get arrested. That's a win for me."

He snorts, "But well, being in jail means you will spend 24/7 by my side. Not sure if I can complain about it."

"What makes you think they would let us stay together when they just want us to die for being in love?"

"No? Then I guess I'll have to sneak out to see you every night."

We avoid talking about the biggest elephant in the room, knowing too well we would always choose each other no matter what. Doubt has never beaten us, at least not in this relationship. My phone buzzes again, urges me to pick it up.

George:
Abu Dhabi yet?
Let's go for golf tomorrow
Bring Oscar too obvs

The way my friend includes Oscar in our casual hang out plan makes me feel a bit emotional. They accept me for who I am, even when it's messy and fucked up and I've made a lot of mistakes along the way. Oscar offers to reply George's text for me because my vision is so blurry that I can't focus on the screen. We both agree not to spill anything to him yet, just casually pretending like we're fine and telling him to hang out next time.

We go to bed early that night, exhausted from all circling emotions from the day. The race is still officially scheduled, but hopefully not for long. The clock is ticking and we are all aware of that. But if we can't have what we want, then no one should.