Girl, So Confusing | F1

Freaky Red Carpet

synopsis: your final red carpet appearance with fred for gladiator ii. (your first public appearance as a couple?)

wc: 4k+

warnings: rpf! reader is specified to be inexperienced!

a/n: same general vibes as the last one but more introspective ig, but we go into more specifics here as well as some backstory.

italics are supposed to be comments under tiktok clips of the premiere. feedback is writer's fuel!

cross posted on AO3

<<previous part

The screams and chaos of the premiere crashed over you as you stepped out of the car, a security guard’s hand reached for yours to steady you. This was it, the final big event. Even though it wasn’t over just yet, the nostalgia was creeping in, soft but persistent.

“Hey, pretty girl.” Fred’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts. He stood only a few steps ahead of you, having just arrived himself. Your gaze softened, lingering on Fred, oblivious to the cameras snapping away. “You look…” His gaze dipped once—then again—tracing your figure. A soft, unguarded smile tugged at his lips, as if he didn’t realize he was doing it. As if he was completely enraptured by you. “You’re stunning, you know that?”

The ability to speak escaped you for only a moment, the words caught in your throat. “...Fred, you can’t-”

“No, I’m serious.” He shook his head, eyebrows raised. He walked forward and placed his hands on your shoulders, holding you in place to continue studying you, as if he was in awe. “Look at you.” His eyes finally found yours again. “You’re gorgeous, y/n.”

“Thank you.” The words felt stronger than your voice. You weren’t insecure—you knew you looked good tonight. But having someone say it like that—having Fred say it like that, like he couldn’t even keep the thought to himself—it nearly brought you to tears.

A deafening roar of cameras and voices dragged you back to reality. The glow of flashing lights blurred at the corners of your vision, and distant shouts of your name cut through the haze. You straightened your posture instinctively, smoothing invisible creases in your dress. But Fred could see it. He could see that small moment you tried to keep to yourself.

“Hey, come here.” He spoke softly, less of a request and more of a warning of the oncoming embrace. He pressed his hands between your shoulders blades once you settled into him, chin hooked against his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shook your head vehemently, the silky smooth finish of his suit rubbing against your neck. “You’ve got nothing to be sorry for.”

“I made you emotional.”

“You always make me emotional.” You chuckled, voice light to keep the tears at bay, unsure why they even came in the first place. “You look incredibly handsome tonight.” 

“Yeah?” He asked, his smile and excitement clear in his voice.

“Of course.” You pulled away and jerked your chin at his outfit. “We’re almost matching.”

With a quick second look at the color scheme of your outfit compared to his, Fred’s eyes lit up. “We are!”

“I think Grant and Leslie set us up.” You squinted your eyes conspiratorially. “I heard them talking about ‘all black looks’ yesterday.”

“Really?” He raised his brows at the information. “Come to think of it, Leslie refused to even entertain any of my suggestions today.” Fred laughed it off and reached down to hold you. His hands smoothly slid down your arms until they arrived at your hands, interlacing your fingers together. “Come on.” He tilted his head toward the carpet behind him. “Walk with me.”

“Down the carpet?” You gawked, frozen in place as he gently pulled you in the direction of the flashing lights.

“Yeah pretty, down the carpet.” Fred chuckled like you were joking. “It’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

“You wanna take pictures with me? Like us- together?” You whispered to Fred, not fully paying attention to the cameras already catching every moment. As Fred’s hand tightened around yours, you realized.

You weren’t exactly hiding this—not entirely. Your blossoming relationship, that is. Keeping things personal and quiet felt right for both of you. But this—walking a red carpet together—had never been part of the plan.

“‘Course I wanna take pictures with you.” Fred answered, eyes soft but certain. “We worked super closely on this movie, y/n. I don’t think people will over analyze if we take pictures together on the carpet.” He shrugged. His words meant more than that, though. You knew he meant that you could do whatever you wanted. That you shouldn’t limit yourself in your relationship just because you wanted boundaries. Keeping it private didn’t mean keeping it a secret, like you were doing something wrong. 

“Besides, you’re my Lovie.” His voice softened, almost shy, like he wasn’t sure if you’d still claim the title in front of all these people.

Your neck grew warm at his words.

Lovie.

That was the name you and Fred called your deliberately unnamed character throughout filming. Caracalla called her ‘my love’ almost exclusively in the script. So it became your quick shorthand between each other. And soon after, the rest of the cast and crew called your character that as well. But it was different with Fred. After a while, it stopped being her name for him. It was you. You were his Lovie.

“Oh- Okay, yeah.” You nodded at Fred, accepting the idea of walking the carpet together, though still slightly apprehensive. 

“Yeah?” He asked again, just to make sure. And with another nod from you, Fred’s victorious smile lingered as his hand settled on the small of your back, sending sparks up your spine. “Gotta show off my girl,” he murmured, his hand pressing a little firmer into you. You weren’t sure if he wanted you to hear that or not, but you did. The way Fred could unravel you, seemingly without even trying, felt wildly unfair—like every tender gesture was second nature to him. 

He led you up the crimson steps, where the carpet shimmered beneath camera flashes and distant voices blurred into a roar. Your name and Fred’s were being called from every which way. Before you could stand still and face a specific group of photographers, Fred moved away from your side all of a sudden, his steps quick and fluid. 

“Fred?” you asked, instinctively glancing over your shoulder.

“One second.” His voice was low, nearly lost in the noise. When you turned, you saw Fred at your other side by your feet. He crouched smoothly to get closer to what he was after. The train of your dress. It wasn’t that long, but the small trek up the stairs had it all misshapen. With precise movements, he tugged at the fabric to position it into place. After he straightened it out sufficiently, he stood back up and stepped around his handiwork to come back at your side, arm looping around your waist to pull you back into him.

“You didn’t have to do all that.” You looked up at him through your lashes as your hands came up to rest against his chest. You adjusted his lapels in a subconscious attempt to return the favor, brushing away the imaginary lint on his chest and shoulders. Fred visibly blushed at your words, your hands on him, the way that you were looking at him, all of it. You displayed your emotions in a way that even he couldn’t dismiss. Not that he would want to. He loved it. Every moment. Being cared for so openly made his heart flutter and his ears turn red, it was exhilarating.

“I wanted to.” He reassured you, head nodding down softly, a subtle attempt at getting closer to you.

A piercing shout of your name followed by a burst of blinding light shattered the quiet moment.

The soft bubble you and Fred had built around yourselves burst, replaced by the harsh glare of cameras and the relentless hum of the crowd.

You dropped your hands from Fred’s chest, suddenly aware of how close you were.

But Fred’s hand stayed where it was, anchoring you in the thrashing waves of it all.

You turned this way and that, following the voices of photographers as they shouted out different poses they wanted to see.

“I could get used to this.” Fred spoke quietly, leaning down to whisper into your ear. 

You frowned in confusion and turned to look at him. “Which part exactly?” You asked. 

“Having the prettiest girl in the world on my arm.”

“Was this your plan tonight?” You couldn’t hide your grin no matter how hard you tried. “To kill me with compliments?”

“Not a bad way to die, no?” Fred furrowed his brows in faux seriousness, his mouth twitching in that way it did, a twinkle of mirth in his eyes.

You rolled your eyes with a giggle. “You’re a horrible man, Fred Hechinger.”

‘idk if they’re together or not and i want to be respectful but theyre literally the cutest people ever and if its true then theyre perfect for each other 🥺 truly wish them the best’

‘the mouth thing he does is actually the cutest thing ive ever seen’ ↳ ‘hottest. i think you mean hottest.’

‘look at the matching outfits!! i can’t! theyre too frickin cute!!!’ ↳ ‘its just all black lol y’all read into things too much 🙄’

‘we need a lip reader up in here 🗣️🗣️’

‘we love a man who knows the importance of the dress’

‘how does she just look better and better at each public appearance?!’

‘this is flirting one million percent’

‘either theyre together or theyre idiots, because this just might be true love’

‘we can’t assume that every interaction in hollywood means something more than it is, give them the privacy they deserve!’

‘what are they SAYINGGGG?!!?!’ ↳ ‘it definitely looks like he said ‘prettiest girl in the world’ there at the end, right?? call me crazy, but i can see his mouth moving so clearly it has to be it!’ ↳ ‘you’re definitely crazy, but also you’re definitely right’ ↳ ‘you’re right!!!! isn't that so relationship goals??’

Towards the end of the carpet, the rest of the cast were gathered to take a group photo. Paul saw the two of you approaching and his eyes lit up. 

“Took your sweet time, didn’t you?” He teased the two of you. “Been waiting all night!”

“Sorry,” you ducked your head as you confessed, smiling sheepishly. “Entirely my fault. I came late.”

“Ah, come here.” Paul laughed as he brushed it off and pulled you into a hug. “You look stunning.”

“And you’re handsome as ever.” You returned the compliment.

Paul pulled Fred into his side once you withdrew. You saw him whisper something into Fred’s ear, and Fred laughed and whispered something back, but you couldn’t quite make any of it out. 

When Fred pulled away, you shook your head at him with furrowed brows and pursed lips. A small way of asking ‘What was that about?’ Fred smiled and shook his head, ‘Don’t worry about it.’

“Alright, you two!” Paul clapped his hands, breaking the moment. “Picture time!”

“Do I look okay?” You turned to Fred, hand coming up to make sure your hair was in place. You were facing him now, your colleagues to one side of you and the expanse of the carpet on the other side. 

“You always look perfect.” He answered, eyes struggling to stay on yours. Always dipping down to your neck, your shoulders, your waist. He had to get a hold of himself, he thought. 

As you raised your arm to make sure your earrings were on properly, one of your bracelets snagged at the neckline of your dress. Nothing had happened yet, but if you moved in the wrong way, you’d have a horrible wardrobe malfunction on your hands. A soft ‘Oh!’ escaped you as you realized what was happening. Fred’s eyes darted from yours to your hand, where your eyes were fixated on something.

“What happened?” He mumbled as he quickly moved you with his hands on your elbows and simultaneously stood in front of you, making sure the scene was as difficult as possible for the cameras to capture.

“My bracelet’s stuck,” you explained, eyebrows furrowed and eyes zoned in on the tangle. 

His hands quickly covered yours, gently moving your fingers out of the way. “Here, let me.”

You rolled your eyes with a laugh. “You’re like my own personal assistant today.”

“Yeah?” He asked with a small smile, still working on your bracelet, glad that you seemed to be enjoying yourself even now.

He was a bit worried about you today, especially after he initially saw you at the entrance to the carpet. He knew the high of working on this project was coming down for you and he wanted to be there to support you through it all. 

“Mhm,” you nodded, “first the train of my dress, now this. What next? You’re gonna pull out a powder puff and take care of the shine on my forehead?”

“If this suit had big enough pockets, I’d pull out a plane and fly us out of here.”

“Where would we go?” You laughed.

“I don’t know, the Maldives? Russia? The moon?” Fred laughed with you as he pulled your hand back down, your bracelet and your dress back to their previous intact positions.

“Well, I already told you two that I want to go take pictures.” Paul’s voice broke the bubble that seemed to continuously form around the two of you. He stood next to you and placed a hand on your and Fred’s shoulders. “Hate to ruin the moment, lovebirds, but there’s only so much time before the movie starts inside.”

Paul pushed the two of you towards the spot prepared for the photos. Ahead of you was the rest of the cast, all lined up. Pedro Pascal, Connie Neilsen, Joseph Quinn, and Denzel Washington all stood together chatting and laughing. Paul went and stood next to Pedro, and Joseph made room for Fred between him and Denzel. You slid up next to Paul, feeling like it was the best fit for you between the group of people without causing another shuffle. 

Paul scanned the lineup, eyes flicking between you and Fred when his eyes narrowed slightly. “This won’t do.”

Without another word, he began casually nudging people aside, muttering something to Pedro, giving Joseph a knowing look. Slowly but deliberately, he carved out a space beside Fred.

A space for you.

“There. Much better,” he smirked, stepping back to admire his handiwork. He placed a firm hand on your shoulder and pulled you into place.

Your cheeks burned as Fred grinned and tugged you closer into his side. Joseph smiled knowingly at you and draped an arm across your shoulders.

Paul darted back to his place and in turn the cameras flashing intensified.

‘paul fred and y/n seem like such good friends i could cry 😢’

‘we all know paul has tiktok and hes in the loop, this man knows exactly what hes doing to us fred x y/n shippers’

‘HIM FIXING HER DRESS LIKE THAT? TOMDAYA 2.0! THIS IS EXACTLY WHAT THE WORLD NEEDS 😩’

‘guys! a lip reader figured this one out! paul: ‘you’re smitten and you’re not being subtle about it’ and FRED SAID ‘who said i wanna be subtle?’ IS HE NOT THE CUTEST BOYFRIEND IN THE WHOLE ENTIRE WORLD?’ ↳‘paul ships it, he’s on our team’ ↳ ‘and he was telling her how good she looks at the other end of the carpet, did you see?’ ↳ ‘at one point he even says ‘you’re my love’ and i just about melted’ ↳ ‘no he said ‘lovie’! that’s what caracalla calls her in that one scene! NO SPOILERS GUYS!!!’

‘FRED THE MAN THAT YOU ARE!!!’

‘i can’t tell if i want y/n or if i want to be her’

‘paul making sure y/n is next to fred during the group photo’ ↳ ‘did you see how joseph looked at them!! everyone ships these two!’ ↳ ‘goes to show how literally everyone is rooting for these two’ ↳ ‘so true! they’re the cutest couple ive ever seen i feel like a proud mom’

‘first he fixes the train of her dress, next he helps her when her bracelet gets stuck, then what? huh? i die? is that what these two want from me?’

‘never getting over the cast making sure theyre next to each other in the group pic, theyre so loved’ ↳ ‘you mean paul specifically lol’

After a few pictures were snapped, a coordinator in charge of the media coverage told you to reshuffle. They wanted a few photos of Fred with Joseph and Denzel, and some of just the two of them. Some of Connie and Pedro, and some with Paul as well. A mixture of photos that represented their work together on screen. And of course they wanted some of you and Fred, and some with Joseph. And the last group on the list was you, Fred, and Paul.

When Paul came to join you, he placed his arm across Fred's on your lower back, both of their hands now landing on either side of your waist. “Hey,” He smiled warmly at you. “You alright?” 

You hummed in confirmation. “Thank you for that, back there.” You tilted your head to the side, knowing Paul would understand that you meant how he made sure to put you next to Fred in the group photo.

“I have no clue what you're talking about.” He smirked, eyes fixed forwards on the cameras. But his hand squeezing lightly at your waist told you otherwise. He was so perceptive when it came to you, making you feel like you were an open book. It brought you back to a day on set. A long time ago. When the concept of you and Fred was something you were too afraid to talk about out loud in fear of ruining the magic of it. Your relationship was on the precipice, the very edge of friendship before the ocean of something more.

The day, you had confided in Paul about the very thing that led him to do what he did only moments ago.

~

“You guys are cute.” He had said, catching you admiring your lock screen. It was a picture of you and Fred on a picnic blanket. Paul had taken it the day before. Everyone on set thought it was a nice idea to have lunch outside. The weather was perfect, the grass was green, and there were butterflies everywhere. You and Fred took a blanket for yourselves, to no one’s surprise. 

It was the next day that you were sitting with Paul on the set of the Colosseum and he showed you the picture he took of you. You quickly changed your phone wallpaper after he sent you the photo at your request. It wasn’t anything fancy, his film was still getting developed, though he promised you loads of pictures from that once it was done. This picture was just taken on his phone camera, but it was just as beautiful to you. He was so talented with cameras, capturing each moment beautifully you could almost hear it.

“Thanks.” You replied, avoiding his eyes. It felt strange—this fragile stage of something new unfolding under so many watchful eyes. But you knew that would be a sacrifice that you’d have to make. Especially with how slow you were going with Fred.

“Does it make you uncomfortable?” Paul asked. You hummed in response, asking for elaboration. “Us watching?”

“What do you mean?” You asked, needing further explanation. He couldn’t read your mind, could he? Was he really asking about the same thing you were thinking of? Were you that easy to read? Maybe to Paul, you were.

“I know you guys are taking it slow,” Paul said softly, like it was a secret he wasn’t supposed to know. Your eyes lifted to meet his. “Fred told me.”

“He talks to you about me?” You asked, your smile evident in the tone of your voice.

“Always.” He replied, smiling just as wide as you unknowingly were. You and Fred were some of his closest friends on set. You all had the same sense of humor and attitude towards life, it was easy to find companionship with the two of you. And he wasn’t surprised that you two found love within each other. But he worried about it at times. “He always talks about you.”

“All good things, I hope.” You chuckled quietly, the smile ever growing on your face as you thought of what Fred might tell Paul in your absence. Maybe he mentioned your weird obsession with stuffed animals, or how you clung to his arm whenever the two of you went for a walk.

After a beat of silence, you remembered his question and your brows knitted in thought. “Why would it make me uncomfortable?”

Paul inhaled through his nose and looked out onto the bleachers ahead of you. “I don’t know… It’s just that- I don’t think I would be comfortable in your position, is all.”

“Why is that?” You knew how you felt about it all, but you always explained away your emotions. A bad habit, you knew. But you were genuinely curious and wanted to hear a somewhat objective opinion on this whole situation. 

“Just feels so-” He looked back at you now, studying you. Hoping, even, to see something telling in your expression at his confession. “Exposed, in a way. Raw. Like these feelings that really only one person should know about are on display to everyone around me.”

“Says the guy who had a first date on a live stream.” You retorted, the playful jab coming quick to mind.

Paul shook his head with a chuckle. “You know what I mean, dickhead.”

Your head cocked to the side as you thought of his words, truly taking them in. “I guess it does kind of make me feel strange.”

“Yeah?” Paul’s brows raised, appraising your face once more.

You nodded with a hum. “I’ve never- I mean, I’ve never really had a proper relationship. I don’t think I can even call this one a proper relationship. Not yet, anyways. And when I really think of it, it does feel a little unfair that what I always thought would be intimate and private is on display like this.”

“I’m sorry.” Paul spoke morosely.

“It’s not your fault.” You smiled softly, placing your hand on his. 

“Feels like it is sometimes.” He admitted. You shot him a questioning look. “‘Cause of the pictures.” He explained. “I just want to capture the moment. For you guys, not for anyone else. But whenever I point a camera your way, it’s like I’m pulling everyone’s attention to you with it. I feel guilty whenever you two are having a moment and everyone’s staring. You’re not doing anything wrong.”

“I think we’re asking for it a little.” You huffed out a laugh, squinting in the sun. The underlying bitterness in your voice didn’t go unnoticed by Paul. “It’s a bit dumb to try and start a relationship in an environment like this. Months on end on one set with the same group of people. It’s annoying to have everyone’s attention like that, but everyone else probably thinks we’re annoying too.”

“No, don’t say that.” Paul shook his head, his eyes sharp as he shot down your self-blame. “You don’t plan out relationships in advance, that’s not how things work. We’re not like normal people, we don’t get to clock out and go home when time’s up. We’ve moved to fuckin’ Morocco, we film day and night. We eat, sleep, and breathe on this set. And if something like that does happen, where would you even hide it? You can’t! Not that well anyways… You guys are doing this well. Better than most.”

“You think?”

“Yeah, I do.” He nodded with certainty. “And I… I didn’t know this was your first relationship. I’m sorry. It’s not fair to you.” He apologized again and your heart squeezed. 

“Yeah.” Your lips pressed together in a combination of agreement and embarrassment. “But it’s okay. To answer your question, I mean. I don’t think- I don’t feel uncomfortable.”

“No?”

“No.” You shook your head. “He makes me feel safe—like I’m home. Like we’re in a bubble where nothing bad can happen.”

~

Tucked into Fred’s side, surrounded by the cameras and the noise of the final premiere, you felt that same comfort—like you were in your own bubble with him. There were still interviews, panels, and endless appearances ahead, but this moment felt like the end of something special. And you were grateful that Fred was here, anchoring you through it all.

⋆ ˚｡⋆౨ৎ˚ Your Baby Daddy Ain’t a DJ - [Series Intro]

♥ next | series masterlist | main masterlist

♥ pairing: lando norris x fem!reader

♥ synopsis: you didn't think twice about the dj you hooked up with until you found out you were pregnant. turns out the man wasn't just some dj but a famous formula 1 driver.

♥ smau + some written - none of the pictures are mine

♥ warnings: swearing !!!

♥ a/n: tbh this specific type of trope is not my preferred cup of tea to write but that one childish gambino lyric I based the title off of was just so lando coded and I couldn't resist lol

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yourusername at least the girls will always have my back

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˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

"The dad is a dj!?" your mom was completely shocked.

"What the fuck do dj's actually do?" your sister asked.

You covered your face with your hands prompting the two of them to feel even more sympathetic.

"Hey," your sister said, sitting next to you on the couch and putting one of her hands on your shoulder. "It's going to be okay, okay?"

"Mija," your mom joined you two on the cushions. "We will always be there for you."

˖ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁‧₊˚ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁˖

liked by yoursister, yourbestfriend, and 14,673 more

yourusername my beautiful daughter camila + her favorite stuffed animal 🤍

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yourbestfriend the prettiest mom

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yoursister the plushie needed a shoutout?

yourusername she clutches onto it for dear life

yourbestfriend deer life* 😀

yoursister stop

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end notes: here's the intro/teaser to this little series. I'm so excited to kick it off!

the future queen

summary: Sources say that the Wandering Princess was downright brutal to her uncle Vaemond Velaryon during the trial for his petition, despite having shown fondness of him in the years before. When he himself made her notice that, she laughed in his face, "Oh, dear uncle, did you hope to receive a kinder treatment than the others that come in this room and demand some fleeing claim over some land just because I hold your brother dear in my heart? Then you shall know at your own expense that everyone who tries to harm my brothers harms me and, by consequence, the Throne."

pairings: cregan stark x velaryon!reader (no use of y/n), platonic (familial) relationship between the targs/velaryon and reader

word count: 7.0k

warnings: aegon is not a rapist not because he didn't rape dyana in the series but because I don't want her to suffer, mommy issues, i support women's rights and wrongs, vaemond is killed, my girl reader is going THROUGH it, aegon and princess' shenanigans (they hate everything and everyone)

author's note: rhaenyra when i catch you rhaenyra... but also aemond. AEMOND WHEN I CATCH YOU AEMOND THIS WAS ALL YOUR FAULT

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As always, you enter to find the tapestries back to a boring green. “Ugh,” you huff, “not again.” 

“Again?” Oscar asks, confused. 

“Happens every time I’m away for more than three days,” you mutter. “The wench changes the tapestries and hides the paintings. Like it’s named the Green Keep.” You bark at the first servant that passes, making him yelp, “You! Find the steward and tell him that the Princess is calling for him. I want these horrendous tapestries burned once and for all.”

The servant nods, trembling, and promptly runs away. “Aren’t you a bit too harsh?” your friend asks. You shrug. “If you think I’m harsh, then you should see the way Daemon treats the servants. Besides, I don’t treat them badly. It’s just one of the bad days. I make sure they get paid plenty enough for the trouble.” 

As you keep walking, lords and ladies of all kinds briefly stop to greet you, but you move on quickly, barely thanking them back — there’s no reason for them to make such greetings for you, when you’ve been away for barely a sennight. You figure they’re mostly happy to see you because it means the Queen and the Hand will be getting off the Throne soon. 

A month or so ago, your grandsire fell ill. The Maester wasn’t sure he would make it, but he did — he was just… weak. Too weak to attend court, to hold the councils and settle the Kingdom’s matters. 

And so his responsibilities were passed down to you. That was because he didn’t want his vicious wife as regent nor his Lord Hand on the Throne, after the various accidents that had happened when he had let them do it. I want you to understand what it’s like to take care of the Kingdom, he had said, wheezing. To learn who you should support and how to do it. 

There is no manual to learn how to rule. You could listen to the lords all day while they give you their advice, and you would wake up the next even more confused than before, so — as your mother said — there’s no other way to do it but to understand it yourself. 

You think that in the end, you worked pretty well as regent. You were the only one who dared speak back to the Queen and Lord Hand, so the councils went pretty smoothly, and court was held without too much of a hassle. But then you had to go to the Riverlands to help Oscar, and the Red Keep was left in the hands of the green wench and her vulture of a father. And as it always happened, you returned to find it changed: the tapestries of your ancestors were replaced with portraits of the Seven and the dragon statues with towers, seven-pointed stars and so on. 

It’s really incredible how in a sennight they've managed to turn the Keep upside down. Shivering, you briefly wonder how the castle would be if it was completely in their hands. 

“Princess!” someone calls behind you. It’s the steward, who pants and bows before taking a napkin from his pocket to wipe away the sweat from his forehead. “It is good to see that the Riverlands have treated you well. I hope your travels went without any problems.” 

You nod briefly, pointing at Oscar. “Yes, they were fine. Could you show Ser Oscar Tully the guest rooms while I go talk to my grandsire? He’ll be staying for a while. And, most importantly, tell the servants to bring back the old decorations; take the new ones to the Dragon Pit, Nādrēsy will take care of them.” 

The steward nods, unphased; it’s not the first time you make him burn the Hightowers’ decorations, so he must not be surprised at all. “Will do, Princess.” He bows to Oscar, showing him the way. “If you’ll follow me, my lord…”

The way up to the King’s chambers feels like forever. Before you departed for Riverrun, you made sure that the guards assigned to his rooms were ones you could trust — so that no Hightower page or servant could enter and poison the King, as they have already tried numerous times. You made sure the only one who was allowed in the chambers was Grand Maester Orwyle — and Mushroom, when your grandsire needed a cheer-up — who you paid generously to make sure that the Hightowers couldn’t get to him. 

“Lord Commander, Ser Erryk,” you greet the guards, right out of your grandsire’s quarters, They bow their heads, murmuring their own greetings, opening the doors for you. The smell of burned wood and the warmness of the room engulfs you as the guards quickly close the door behind you, your grandsire barely raising his head from the pillow. 

“–’Nyra? Is that you?” he rasps. 

“No, Grandsire,” you reply gently, taking a chair and sitting down beside his four-poster bed. You murmur your name, “It’s me, I have returned from Riverrun.” 

“Ah,” he murmurs, letting his head fall back down into the pillow, raising his hand for you to take. “It all went well, I hope?”

You squeeze his hand, barely nodding, “For now, the matter has been settled. What about you? What has the Maester said?” 

“That I need to rest,” he coughs, “did you know Rhaenyra has arrived, too?”

“I figured out as much; when she wrote to me, she was already on the boat to King’s Landing.” 

He hums. “She has shown me the boys– oh, they have grown so much. And little Aegon and Viserys…”

Ah, yes: he had never seen them before. Your mother hasn’t come back to the Keep since Joffrey's birth, and she only ever allowed you to sometimes bring Jace, Luke and Joff to the capital, insisting that Aegon and Viserys were too young — as if you weren’t almost a dragon rider by Aegon’s age. 

“They are so cute, aren’t they?” you chuckle, “They don’t look like Daemon at all, thankfully,” he adds. “They look a lot like Rhaenyra when she was little– a lot like you, too.” 

You are happy to see that he remembers when you were little — he has been forgetful as of lately, calling the Queen ‘Aemma’ and referring to Otto as ‘Lyonel’. Sometimes he slips with you too, calling you Rhaenyra, asking you when you plan to do the tour to find a husband. You haven’t heard him talk about Aegon, Aemond and Helaena in ages, and when you bring Aegon or Helaena to visit him with you, he seems to be hardly recognising them.

“It pains me that we were all reunited because of Vaemond’s petition,” your grandsire says, voice strained. “I would like to keep your mother closer to me, closer to the court– but the only idea seems to repel her.”

“I’ll talk to her,” you reassure him, “you know I have my ways. Besides, I can’t always be here. The Hightowers…”  

“I don’t trust anyone in this castle more than you and your mother,” he seethes, “how can I change Lord Hand, if you already have your own matters in the Seven Kingdoms and my own daughter won’t stay with me? This trial, the petition– it would’ve never happened if I hadn’t married Alicent and Otto wasn’t my Hand.” 

You press your lips into a thin line. “What has happened can’t be changed, my King. After these matters are dealt with, with your permission, I would like to… clean the court, so to say, from all the snakes that have made it their nest in these last few years.”

“Of course, of course,” he coughs violently, trying to scoot enough to lean his back against the headboard. You hear a clutter outside, but ignore it for the most part, focusing on the heavy breathing of your grandsire. “Do of Vaemond what you think it’s best for the Realm.” he coughs again, trying to straighten up, “Could you pass me my quill and paper? Otto’s started to become more and more meticulous, and I suspect that without my word, he won’t leave you to handle the petition…” 

You do as he asked you while the rumble outside is getting louder; if earlier it was only a few whispers and angry stomping, now it’s turning into what seems to be a full-on argument between the guards and… Oscar? Is that his voice?

Your grandsire continues writing the delegation, handwriting shaky, and you’re horribly reminded yet again of how much he’s aging. ‘Tis a wretched thing, watching someone you love slip and slip and slip until only the Stranger can catch them. You wonder when the last time you’ll be able to talk to him with him recognizing you will be. 

“The seal,” he murmurs, passing the letter to you, “forgive this old man, I don’t think I should be trusted with wax as of now, or I’d spill it all over the letter.”

You shake your head, “Never apologise to me for such a trivial thing ever again, grandsire.” you smile at him tenderly, caressing his hand. “I’d be glad to seal every one of your acts and letters for the rest of my life, if it meant having you by my side.” 

You are preparing the hot wax for the royal sigil, when the doors slam open and the guards yell curses as they try to keep out a panting, screaming Oscar. “The trial!” His voice is so shrill that for a moment, you wonder if it’s just a maid dressed up as him. “They’re making it start now! And your grandfather–” the guards push him back, closing the doors with a loud bang!, making your grandsire blink in confusion. “What was that about?”

You hurriedly pour the wax, only half-melted, over the parchment, blowing air upon the sigil in hopes to fasten the making. “Sorry, grandsire, I fear this was my call for the Throne room.” You press a kiss onto his forehead, leaving even more confused than before as you dash out of the chambers. “Oscar! Oscar!” 

You find him outside, right in front of the doors, arguing with the guards, insisting to be let in. “The Princess’ orders were specific,” Ser Erryk reiterates, “no one, besides very few, are to be let in–”

They stop at your sight, and you wave them away, hurriedly marching down the stairs while being followed by Oscar. “So, I guess the trial is starting now?” you muse, not actually amused at all. He pants, shaking his head. “The steward– he, he was showing me to the rooms, aye? And then a guy wearing the Hightower signet came and asked him for a fine pillow for the Lord Hand so that he could sit more comfortably on the Throne during the ongoing trial. And then– gods, I looked for you everywhere, I have no idea how you manage to live in this castle– I heard some maids talking about the arrival at Driftmark of Lord Corlys, who apparently is on the verge of dying.”

Your what?! echoes through the hallway and makes a few maids flinch and some guards straighten up, but your steps don’t slow down. “You mean to tell me Vaemond called this petition because my grandfather is deadly injured and nobody thought of telling me? And even worse, that right now Otto Hightower’s arse is sitting on the Iron Throne with a pillow? My ancestors have burnt down entire cities for far less!” you gag, “Oh, forgive him, Aegon, he doesn’t know what he’s doing… sitting on the throne he forged with his fallen enemies’ swords out of dragonfire– with a fine pillow no less!” 

The guards that are stationed outside the throne room clearly have no intention of blocking your way in, opening the doors for you with no fuss and bowing their heads, “Princess, Ser Tully,” 

A page jumps at your sight, interrupting Vaemond’s speech by yelling out, “The Princess, ambassador of the Crown and the Seven Kingdoms and– uh… Ser Oscar Tully, accompanying her.” 

Murmurs spread across the room; your mother smiles at you, moving forward but then stopping — you know she has just stopped herself from hugging you — and Vaemond tries to smile, too, but it ends up being more of a grimace than anything else. You try to think more of your mother rather than him, or else you’re going to strangle him right now, in front of all these witnesses. 

“Princess,” Otto Hightower gloats from above, sitting on the Throne with his stupid, horrendous green pillow. “You’re awfully late — unusual of you.” 

“Well, Lord Hand, I would’ve been on time if only anyone had told me that the trial’s time had been moved,” you hiss, “and I think that’s probably why you didn’t bother sending anyone to call for me. Now do me a favor and get your smelly and sensitive buttocks away from my Throne.” 

He raises both eyebrows, forehead wrinkling. “Pardon me?”

“I am not going to repeat myself twice, Otto,” you say, harsher this time. “I am the wielder of Blackfyre, which is the royal scepter. No one can hold court or trials without it, unless they’re the King.” he moves to open his mouth, but you don’t let him talk — he doesn’t deserve that privilege. “Besides, if you need a pillow to sit on the Iron Throne, were you really made to sit on it?”

Daemon laughs openly; besides him, everyone tries to keep their chuckles as silent as they can, even if you’re sure Mushroom’s going to combust soon if he doesn’t laugh out loud. “The Throne is made out of swords, nobody would ever be comfortable in it,” Alicent butts in– you had hoped she had called in sick today. Of course not. The sight of Aegon still holding in laughter from your remarks to Otto lightens your mood a bit. “But that does not matter. He is the Lord Hand, and unless the King has given other instructions, he is to replace the void left by the regnant.”

You snort. “Yes, grandsire said that you would have given me trouble about that. In fact, he did leave special instructions.” you pass the delegation to one of the public notaries present. He nods at it, confirming to everyone in the room the truth of your words, “Well, I guess the matter is settled then.” you squint at Lord Hand dearest, “Off of my Throne, and be quick with it.” The proud expression of your mother fills you with more happiness than it should. 

To say that you’ve had a rough relationship with her in the last few years would be an understatement to say the least. 

For the sake of your brothers, you try your best with her. You still love her dearly, but in the years your resentment towards her has grown immensely, and even if you would still die for her, that doesn’t mean that sometimes you just don’t want to kick some sense into her. You hope that after this, she fucking wakes up. You hope that she finally acknowledges that she stole what should have been your careless years and used them as her own. 

As for Daemon, you don’t necessarily despise him as much as you did once. Sure, he’s obnoxious and loud and a terrible man, but you can’t just continue to ignore him for the rest of your life. Your conversations these days mostly consist of sly remarks and jabs, but they are not made out of spite anymore, rather out of respect and complicity. In the end, Daemon — whether you like it or not — has seen you grow up, and sometimes, you think it could even be fondness the thing that softens his eyes when he looks at you  — something much similar to the gaze he holds exclusively for his own daughters. 

You nod to your grandmother Rhaenys and glare at Vaemond, proceeding to sit on the Throne and throw the cushion over the ends of the sheathed swords that surround the King’s — for this occasion, your — seat. You keep Blackfyre in your hand, holding onto the handle, keeping it like a scepter– like your grandsire once did. “Go on, Vaemond,” you muse, “I’m really curious about what you’ll say in your defense.” 

Vaemond’s eyebrows shoot up so high that for a moment, you think they might start flying around the room. “Pardon me– defense? I am not accused of anything. I am claiming my legitimate right for the Driftwood Throne.” 

You narrow your eyes. “If what I’ve heard is correct, you are issuing the legitimacy of my brothers.”

He blinks. “I am, Princess. Driftmark must–”

You huff, “That matter was settled long ago. The King himself said multiple times that anyone questioning Prince Jacaerys, Lucerys, and Joffrey Velaryon’s lineage was to have their tongue cut; besides that, our father, Laenor Velaryon, has always declared them to be legitimate. Did you think you were exonerated from such considerations, perhaps?”  

“I didn’t, Princess,” he hisses, and from the glare he sends Otto, you understand that they had planned not to bring that up. “But now the legacy is at stake. With my brother between the land of the dead and the one of the living, I want to set things right for the succession.” he falters, “I– I had hoped you’d understand.” there is much more behind his words, and you take immediate notice of it. 

You snarl. "Oh, dear uncle, did you hope to receive a kinder treatment than the others that come in this room and demand some fleeing claim over some land just because I hold your brother dear in my heart? Then you shall know at your own expense that everyone who tries to harm my brothers harms me and, by consequence, the Throne."  you wave your hand in the air. “My grandfather is not even dead yet and you already hover around his possessions like a vulture! Has nobody told you that during a Lord’s absence, a regent is named to make all the decisions for him?” 

He seems to be horrified. “The regent has much less of a claim over Driftmark than I do–”

“Yet my grandfather didn’t name you,” you counter. “I wonder why, uncle. Could it be that the regent holds his wishes more to her heart than you do?” You raise your eyes from his form, “Princess Rhaenys, a word?” 

Your grandmother steps up with a smile on her face. “Gladly,” From the way she looks at you, you understand that once you get out of this room, she’s going to brag about you to all her friends and every servant that is willing to listen. “It was ever my husband’s will that Driftmark pass through Ser Laenor to his trueborn son– Jacaerys Velaryon. His mind never changed, nor did my support of him. As a matter of fact, Princess Rhaenyra just informed me of her desire to marry Lucerys Velaryon to my granddaughter Rhaena to strengthen the bonds between our houses once again.” she chuckles, “And, as it is both Targaryen and Velaryon tradition to do so, Prince Jacaerys’ and Princess Helaena’s firstborn could marry Prince Lucerys’ and Lady Rhaena’s firstborn daughter.”

“Creating an engagement between kids who have yet to be born is a little tricky,” you murmur, an eyebrow raised, “But I don’t have anything against it. We can consider this matter settled once and for all– even if, I’m sure, once he wakes up, my grandfather will waste no time in stating his will once again.” you sigh, “I hereby reaffirm Prince Jacaerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne and the next Lord of the Tides.”

“You break law,” Vaemond hisses, “and centuries of tradition that I had hoped you’d have understood by now, niece.”

You shake your head. “Don’t try that with me, uncle, you know it won’t work.” you point your finger accusingly at him, “The regent has spoken, and her word is Corlys’. Besides, what good would you do ascending to the Throne of Driftmark? You’re old and you have no heirs, no daughters, no wife. You’re just a second son who hopes in his brother’s demise to have all that he could never have by birthright. Prince Jacaerys is already betrothed to Princess Helaena; the Velaryons will be princes, Vaemond, princes!”

“The fact that I have no heirs can still be changed,” he bluntly says. “I’m still young enough to find a wife.”

You grimace, “Yes, yes, there are way older men than you that get married at their elderly ages, but it will be a great feat to find you a wife with the face you find yourself in, even for all the gold in the world.” 

“You dare tell me who deserves to inherit the Velaryon name?” he rages, “I will not allow it!”

“Do not forget yourself, Vaemond!” you state back, “I myself hold the Velaryon name, and you have no right to tell me who deserves it and who doesn’t when my own father and the man that is now miles away, fighting for his life, taught me everything I ought to know to carry it with pride!” 

He points angrily at Jace, “That is no true Velaryon, and certainly no nephew of mine!” the whole room gasps; you get up from the Throne, surely matching the tone of anger. “Continue and I’ll have your tongue cut out for this, Vaemond–”

“You all may run your house as you see it fit!” he shouts, “But you will not decide the future of mine. The Velaryons have survived the Doom and a thousand of tribulations aside– and gods be damned, I will not see it ended because of this–”

He stops in his tracks; from the look in your eyes, he knows that if he ends the sentence, he could lose much more than his tongue. But Daemon taunts him, “Say it.”

Vaemond’s right eye ticks. “Her children are bastards!” he bellows, causing the fainting of one of the ladies standing behind and the general outrage. “And she is a whore.” 

Before you can yell out every insult under the sun and call for the guards to bring him to the Dragon Pit so that Nādrēsy may feast on him, a sword comes behind him, slicing his head in two — leaving his tongue intact. Many scream and run out of the room, while both sides of your family stand there and watch his body fall forward. The guards are stopped by a gesture of your hand; Daemon merely grins, cleaning his sword with the dead’s clothes. “Let him keep his tongue,” he murmurs, “I’m sure the Stranger will be delighted in hearing his laments.”

Oscar is downright traumatised by the experience. “Do people often die here, during trials?” he asks you for the fifth time, anxiously tapping his foot on the ground. “Not if Daemon isn’t around,” you quietly reply, looking over at your uncle and mother chatting — or, better… discuss animatedly — about what has just happened. The room is filled with the murmurs of your family: Baela and Rhaena are whispering with Rhaenys as Jace and Luke chat quietly. 

Anybody has yet to come to talk to you, too preoccupied with their own matters — not that you care. You’re waiting for everyone to be out of this room to be finally left alone with your mother and have a decent talk. As of now, you’re just sitting in your chair with your arms crossed, brooding. Oscar taps his fingers on the table beside him, and it irks you. “Will you please stop, before I send you out of this room?”

“I shouldn’t even be here!” he counters, shouting-whispering. “This feels like a family reunion!”

“Oh, please,” you roll your eyes, “my grandmother already hates you as only family can do.”

“That’s just because she thinks I’m your prostitute or something,” he mutters, offended. Though it is true that she loathes him– you have brought him with you to Driftmark many times, and every time, her despise for him was basically impossible to hide. 

“Why, you think she doesn’t hate Daemon for the exact same reason?” 

As Oscar stays there with his brows furrowed, gears turning in his head over your last sentence, your patience runs short. “This is madness. I am going to talk to her.” you rise from your seat, every eye but your mother’s and Daemon’s turning to look at you — and everyone knows you well enough to get out of the room before the storm can hit. 

Your mother and her husband are still hissing to each other for the Seven know what reason why, so much that they don’t even notice you. “Are you finished?” you say flatly, raising an eyebrow when their heads turn to look at you, surprised. Luke is the last one to exit the room, and he makes sure to close the door. “I thought you two were adults, but clearly I am in front of children. I would’ve killed Vaemond either way; could you kindly stop arguing now?” 

Rhaenyra’s face warms. “I– sorry, of course.” she still sends a glare to her husband, relenting only because of you. “Could you kindly leave us alone, kepa?” Daemon rolls his eyes, begrudgingly heading towards the door. Before he closes it behind him, he sends a look at Oscar, whispering, “I think you may want to leave now, too, whore-boy.” 

Unfortunately, Oscar only hears a few muffled words and then the door closes. He focuses on trying to make himself as invisible and small as he can, as he hasn’t been excused by either you or your mother, and figures he can’t leave his little sad seat until one of you tells him to. 

Rhaenyra is the first to extend an olive branch. “I wanted to thank you for what you did today,” she says calmly, smiling at you. “With Otto holding the trial, I don’t even want to think about what the outcome could’ve been.”

Your face remains still, not a smile in sight and no emotions to show. “Good. You have seen how to handle such matters. From now on, they will be in your hands.”

Your mother’s eyes widen. “Excuse me?”

“Excuse me?” you mock, “You let me pick up your slack for the last eight years, mother. I’m done.” she’s about to open her mouth again, but you talk over her, “You called me here because you needed my help — and I will help when I can, you know that, but you didn’t even tell me that in the first place this godsforsaken petition was called because my grandfather could be dying as of now.” you shake your head, eyes clouded with memories: of all the swims you and Corlys had taken together, of him and your father teaching you how to navigate — the only thought of them both dead makes you want to throw up. “You think you may lose an asset if he dies, maybe a once good-father– but he is my grandfather. He is much more than just a lord to me. He taught me how to swim, how to survive out in the sea — and he is, besides grandmother, the last thing left of my father.” 

You blink the tears away from your eyes. Blinking, you notice her eyes are watery too. “We have already talked about this, sweetling,” she murmurs. 

You shake your head. “We have, but you never actually listen to me. I am tired, mother.” A tear escapes her eye at seeing you in this state — head bowed, eyes full of tears, lip trembling. She has gotten so used to seeing you act mature that she has almost forgotten that you are only six and ten; at your age, her main concerns were fighting off suitors and assuring that nobody found out that she was sleeping with her ward. Meanwhile you are trying to hold the whole realm intact by yourself while trying to keep the Hightowers as far as they can be from the Throne, handling every lord and lady that complains, and — Rhaenyra as of now doesn’t know you well enough anymore to say it, but she suspects you are having an affair too. Just in case, she glares at Oscar through the tears. 

“I want to stay here, in the castle, with little to no worries until I am to be married off– oh, don’t look at me like that, mother, we both know it’s going to happen soon.” you wave a hand in the air, sniffling, “I want to finally be able to mourn my father. I want to wear all the pretty dresses I’ve bought in the last two years. I want to have handmaidens, I want to fly on Nādrēsy for fun rather than for Kingdom matters, I want to stop worrying about the Hightowers colonizing the Red Keep everytime I’m away. But I can’t do it without you, mother.”

She wipes away her tears with the sleeves of her dress, “I– I thought you enjoyed being the ambassador and having so many duties.”

You laugh bitterly. “I did for the first two years. When you give a child a cup of wine, he doesn’t think of the headache that he will have after drinking it– he only sees his opportunity to finally prove himself as an adult.” you grimace, a tear slipping from your eye, “At first it was fun. Grandsire kept me mostly away from political affairs and sent me around just to make Nādrēsy clean the Kingdom’s prisons; I didn’t have to do anything. But then he started considering me for political missions.” you spare a glance at Oscar, now trying to melt into one with the seat, clearly awkward. It was during one of the missions that you met. “He kept giving me more and more power, and I found it so funny. At ten I sentenced every remaining member of Cregan Stark’s family just because. I could have sent them to the Wall — after all, it wasn’t really clear how much his uncle’s sons had helped their father usurp Cregan, and the Wall is the usual punishment for Lords. But then, as I grew, I started feeling the weight of it. Not every situation was black and white, and sometimes I just wanted to kill both parties and call it a day.”

Your eye ticks. “And I don’t know how long I can hold it until it breaks me. I just need… time. If you pick up from where I left and become Hand, I won’t have to worry about anything until I become Queen or you become Queen and name me Hand. And until that happens, I think I will have learnt how to handle the weight just fine.” 

Your mother doesn’t say anything. She opens her mouth, then closes it, then opens it again. In the end, she just hugs you and goes for the door. As she opens it, she turns towards you, eyes red. “I– I’ll send a… servant. So that you two might be… chaperoned.” 

You raise an eyebrow. You open your heart to her for this? A dry laugh escapes you as she closes the door behind her, “Whatever,” and you move back to your original seat, letting your head fall on Oscar’s shoulder. You sigh. “Do you think she understood?”

He grumbles. “I hope so. I’m not willing to sit like this through another mother-daughter talk like this ever again.” 

Supper is predictably going to be a disaster. 

As your Grandsire enters the dining hall, wheezing and leaning against the maester, you glare at Aemond, who has graciously decided to sit as far away from you as possible — that does not deter you from cursing him to all kinds of pain and suffering in your head, though. 

You told Oscar to dine in his own room, knowing that as soon as any kind of cataclysm starts, he won’t want to be around. Looking at the faces of your relatives, you ask yourself who’s going to strike first — if Aemond, Aegon, Luke or, even worse, Daemon. 

Your grandsire groans loudly as he finally sits in his chair, Alicent on his right and your mother on his left, smiling as the Maester wipes sweat from his forehead. He tries to muster up a smile, but it comes out more like a grimace. “How good it is… to see you all tonight, together.” 

His wife hums. “Prayer before we begin?” as the others move to intertwine their hands, you and Daemon stay still, sending each other amused looks. Neither of you has ever been the greatest believer, not of the Seven at least. There’s a lot of things you believe in — your mother’s right to rule, the legitimacy of your brothers, Aemond’s utter and clear idiocy… 

“May the Mother smile down on this gathering with love. May the smith mend the bonds that have been broken for far too long. And to Vaemond Velaryon, may the gods make him rest.” you roll your eyes at that; you hope they make him burn for the rest of eternity. 

Your grandsire takes the word again. “This is an occasion of celebration. My grandson Luke will marry his cousin Baela, strengthening the bonds between our houses.” he turns to your mother, giving her the biggest smile you’ve seen him make in a while. “And my firstborn Rhaenyra has asked me permission to stay here in preparation for her role as Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, making her the first Lady Hand to be named in history.” 

You perk up, surprised. Looking over at Otto, you find him staring blankly at the King, no hand pin on his chest. You instead find it on your mother’s dress, pinned right above her breast. You look up at her to find her already smiling tenderly at you, eyes full of affection. “She also requested that her daughter be lifted from her duties until she is to be married, so that she may enjoy the last years as a girl that she has left. I think her reasoning is right, and with her by my side, I know my granddaughter will be able to step aside and spend freely the next few years.” he takes his goblet of wine, barely managing to raise it in the air. “So, a toast to the young prince, his betrothed and the princesses!” 

You all clank your goblets and dive into your food, as silent as ever. Aegon nudges your side, “You’ve planned this well, haven’t you?” he whispers. The smirk on his face tells you that he couldn’t care less if his grandfather has just lost his position as Hand. “We should go visit the Free Cities together now that you have no more obligations, niece. Ever heard of Tyrosh’s pear brandy?”

You roll your eyes, holding in a smile. “Always thinking about drinking, aren’t you, uncle? I’m surprised you’re still so awake this late in the evening with all the cups you down usually.” 

He huffs. “Mother kept me from drinking today because of the trial.” he shrugs, grabbing his goblet and motioning for a servant to fill it up again. “Guess I’ll have to make up for it now.”

The chit-chatting goes on for a while; mostly everyone keeps to either themselves or the ones beside them, keeping their eyes on the plate and eating as fast as they could to get out of here soon. Your grandsire coughs, making everyone raise their eyes to look at him wheezing. “It both gladdens my heart and fills me with sorrow to see these faces around the table. The faces most dear to me in the world… yet grown so distant from each other in the years past.” he shakes his head, making both you and Aegon grimace while looking at Aemond, who is nodding like he’s not the one who has mostly caused all of this.

“Let us no longer hold ill feelings into our hearts. The Crown cannot stand strong if the House of the Dragon remains divided. But set aside all your grievances — if not for the sake of the Crown, then for the sake of this old man, who loves you all dearly.” 

Either he doesn’t see the whole situation clearly or he keeps being a hopeless romantic, because you doubt anyone in this room will ever set their grievances aside. Even if you were to forgive Aemond for what he had done to you, your brothers would still hate him, and Baela and Rhaena would continue to resent him for stealing their mother’s dragon. Otto made your last six years a living hell, as you continuously tried to keep your grandsire from being poisoned by his stupid maesters and pages, and Alicent did the same to your mother, terrorizing her in her own home, making her walk right after giving birth to Joff and such. 

You’re about to open your mouth and protest on your family’s behalf when your mother herself rises from her seat, goblet high. “I wish to raise my cup to Her Grace, the Queen. I love my father, but I must admit that no one has stood more loyally by his side than his good wife.” The look Aegon sends you says loyally?, and you have to look straight ahead to the windows to not burst out laughing. 

“She has tended to him with… unfailing devotion, love, and honour. And for that, she has my whole gratitude — and… my apology.”

The Queen presses her lips into a thin line, getting up and raising her cup. “Your graciousness moves me deeply, Princess. We are both mothers, and we love our children. We have more in common than we sometimes allow. I raise my cup to you… and to your house. You will make a fine queen.”

You and Aegon share a doubtful glance. “Are we the problem?” He asks you quietly, concerned about why everyone’s accepting this so quickly. You shake your head. “I have no idea, uncle. Maybe we are crazy.”

Jace clears his throat, raising too. At this point, you think you might actually be the problem. Is it possible you’re the only one who’s spiteful in this room? “To Prince Aegon and… Prince Aemond. We have not seen each other in years, but I have fond memories of our shared youth. And as men, I hope we may yet be friends and allies. To you and your family's good health, dear uncles.” He sits back down, friendly punching Aegon’s shoulder. Your uncle coughs, “To you as well.”

Baela boldly gets up, and you’re starting to wonder for how long the toasting will go on. “I would like to toast to Rhaena and Princess Helaena. They'll be married soon, and even if I do not wish to marry, I am sure they’ll find good husbands in Prince Jacaerys and Prince Lucerys.”

The rest of the night goes fairly well, with bards starting the music and Mushroom fooling around, raising everyone’s spirits. Without him, you think, the family wouldn’t stand half as strong as it did. Once, Alicent tried to ban him from court, saying he was too obscene- as if your grandsire would’ve ever allowed that, with the way the fool made both you and your mother laugh. 

At some point during the evening, your grandsire leaves for his chambers, not feeling well; and as soon as he leaves the room, your fears become reality. 

Aemond gets up from his seat, cup raised, malice in his eyes. He has waited for grandsire to retire to speak– he knows the King would not have appreciated what he has to say. “Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace, Luke, and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise… and strong.”

Jace flinches. Alicent grimaces, reprimanding, “Aemond.”

He doesn’t listen. “Come — let us drain our cups to these three… Strong boys.”

You and Jace both get up. “I dare you to say that again.”

“Why?” He laughs, “'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?” 

Jacaerys strikes first, attacking Aemond with a punch on his face. Your mother is horrified, “Jace!”  Aegon whistles, laughing until you push his face into his food. “Not now, you dumb fuck!” She turns to you, eyes lost, “Not you, too!”

“S’fine,” Aegon chokes, face covered in sauce and peas and a piece of a roasted potato up his mouth. “She usually does worse.” 

Luke is on his feet the moment Jace’s knuckles touche Aemond’s face, but the guards stop him– they don’t come for Aemond quick enough to stop him from sending Jace tumbling to the ground, though, and your brother falls down only to rise up again, even more enraged– and that’s where the guards decide to step in. 

“That is enough!” Alicent yells, getting up and going to her son as your brothers struggle in the guard’s hold. She takes her son aside, raging, “Why would you say such a thing before these people?”

Aemond only snickers. “I was merely expressing how proud I am of my family, Mother.” he then turns to your brothers, still fighting the guards’ hold, “Though it seems my nephews aren't quite as proud of theirs.” 

Your mother hushers your brothers and cousins out of the room, “Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.”

Daemon goes to stand in between your uncle and your brothers, hands joined and sword on his hip. His gaze is clear: if you have something to say, say it to me. Aemond opts for the better option — the one that will allow him to keep his head steady on his shoulders — and decides to just flee the scene, exiting the chamber.

You sigh, looking at your mother. “Well,” you mumble, “I’m departing for Driftmark early in the morn to see my grandfather,” you tell her, patting her shoulder. “Good luck with everything else though. It’s rare around here that supper doesn’t end in a fight.”

if my calculations are right, the slow burn will start burning next chap

hey, are you still there? 𖦹 LN4

PAIRINGS: lando norris x female!reader

SUMMARY: you know yourself that it’s sad that you settled on being a backburner, but you didn’t mind crisping up on lando’s backburner as long as he still think of you.

REMINDERS: this is purely fiction, the way how the character is portrayed in my story does not reflect the person that is portraying my character in real life. always separate fiction from reality, and do not repost or copy my work in any way.

WARNINGS: no use of y/n, unrequited love(?), open ending, insecurities, reader being treated as a backburner, childhood best friends, christmas angst, luisa, typos, and few grammatical errors.

WORD COUNT: 4.6k

AUTHOR’S NOTE: i had always wanted to write this for so long, but i’m not sure how to pen it, but finally, here it is! so far, i’m satisfied. i don’t know much about luisa, but i’m sorry that luisa is kind of villainized in this 🥲 i’m sorry. this is like another christmas one shot, sooo haha i intentionally made it as an open ending bc i want to leave the ending to you, and let me apologize now bc this one shot won’t have a part 2. it just felt right for me to leave it as an open ending and leave the ending up to you. so i hope you’ll enjoy this one!

The glow of the snowy afternoon sun filtered through your apartment windows, casting long, golden shadows across the floor as you sat cross-legged amidst a pile of forgotten keepsakes.

Your plan was simple, really. To declutter, toss out what no longer sparked happiness, and finally reclaim some much-needed space in your small New York apartment. But simplicity soon faded the moment you stumbled upon a memory box that was buried beneath old blankets in the closet. You hadn’t thought about it in years, the worn out wooden edges now slightly faded, but just holding the box again made you feel something deep in your chest.

Sliding the lid of the box open, the faint scent of nostalgia greeted you. There was a mixture of paper and dust that carried you back to another time, another place. Polaroid photographs, ticket stubs, concert tickets, and tiny trinkets spilled out as you began to sift through the box’s contents, fingers brushing against fragments of a life you had once shared with someone who knew you better than anyone. Then you saw it—the camcorder.

It sat nestled at the bottom of the box, its black casing slightly scuffed but still intact, as though it had been waiting for you all these years. The sight of it made your breath catch, fingers hesitant as they wrapped around the familiar shape. A small laugh escaped you, soft and bittersweet, as a wave of memories washed over you.

The camcorder had been a gift from your parents, given to you when you were just a teen. At the time, you had rolled your eyes at the thought of having a camcorder. You were not exactly the type to obsess over gadgets or record everything, but your parents had insisted, saying something along the lines of making memories worth keeping.

You hadn’t even opened the box properly before you had told him about it. Lando had always had a thing for photography, an almost childlike fascination with capturing the world around him. Naturally, he had lit up at the mention of the camcorder. You remembered the way his face had brightened, how he had practically snatched it from your hands when he saw it, excitement radiating from him like it was Christmas morning.

“Trust me,” he said, voice brimming with certainty as he flipped the device open with ease. “This is going to be so much fun, you’ll see.”

And it was.

The camcorder had quickly become his, in everything but name. Lando had used it more than you ever had, his artistic streak shining through in the way he would capture the smallest, most mundane moments and make them feel extraordinary. But what stood out the most was his favorite subject. You.

Every time you hung out, or visited a new place, his focus would inevitably turn to you. At first, you had protested, laughing and batting the camcorder away, but over time, it became a rhythm of sorts. Lando, behind the lens, coaxing your laughter and teasing your smile, and you, rolling your eyes but secretly loving the way he saw you. Through the lens, even the quietest days seemed to feel alive.

You traced a finger along the camcorder’s edges, the faint outline of his fingerprints etched invisibly into its surface. Four years. It had been four years since you had left the UK—four years since you had left him. You told yourself that what you did was for the best, that you needed to grow, chase bigger dreams.

Part of it all was true, but the other part, the one which you didn’t say out loud, was the reason why your chest tightened even now. Was because Lando made you feel too much, and you were not sure you could bear it any longer.

You grabbed your laptop, briefly hesitated over the laptop’s keyboard before finally connecting the camcorder. The familiar chime of recognition echoed through the room as your laptop detected the device, and you couldn’t help but feel a pang of nervous anticipation.

It had been years since you last thought about these videos, let alone watched them. As the files began to load, thumbnails filled the screen—tiny, burry windows into the past. You clicked on the first one, and the second is the screen lit up with a younger version of yourself, smiling awkwardly into the lens. Lando’s voice filled the room almost immediately.

“Come on, you can smile better than that!” he teased from behind the camera, chuckling.

Without even realizing it, a small smile tugged at your lips as you watched. The video playing one after another, each one showed a snapshot of your lives back then. There were clips of you on spontaneous trips—forests, city streets, karting, and endless car rides with Lando singing loudly and off-key while you laughed at him.

There were also quieter moments—rainy afternoon when you were sat by your bedroom window, lost in thought, while he filmed you from across the room, calling it aesthetic. Lando captured everything, from the highs to the lows.

The memories felt vivid, almost too vivid, as if you could reach through the screen and relieve those moments. It was the year he had started his Formula 1 career, and the first time you saw him truly chasing his dreams with everything he had, and were beyond proud of him. At the same time, it was also the year you were filling out endless applications to universities in America, unsure of where you wanted to go or what you wanted to do in life. It was like you were both standing on the edge of something new, something big, and it was both thrilling and terrifying.

It was also the year you finally admitted to yourself that what you felt for Lando was no longer just friendship. You had been so close for so long that the shift felt almost imperceptible at first—lingering glance here, flutter in your chest there. But you acknowledged it, there was no going back.

You found yourself looking at him differently, noticing the little things about him that had always been there but suddenly felt so significant. The way how his eyes crinkled when he laughed, his curly hair, aquamarine eyes, the quiet focus he had when working on something he cared about, and most of all, the way he always seemed to know exactly what to say to make you feel better.

But you kept it to yourself. You couldn’t tell Lando, not when he had told you so casually, like it was nothing that he liked someone.

“I don’t even know if she feels the same,” he had said, voice laced with uncertainty.

For a brief moment, a hope sparked in you. Maybe after all this time, Lando felt the same way about you. Maybe this was the moment that you had finally been waiting for.

But that hope shattered almost immediately when he pulled out his phone and showed you a photo. The girl’s name was Luisa, and she was stunning. She was everything that you were not—model, successful, gorgeous, has a radiant smile and a presence that seemed magnetic. Luisa was exactly Lando’s type, and you knew it.

The realization hit you harder than you had expected. You felt dumb and foolish, for even thinking one second that Lando could ever see you that way. You were not like Luisa, you were not the kind of girl who turned heads or made people stop in their tracks. You were just…you. Lando’s best friend. The person he could have a joke with, confide in, and lean on, but will never see you anything as more.

So you stayed quiet. Buried your feelings deep, gaslighting yourself that everything was better the way it is. The less you talk, the less you risked losing him. Maybe if you kept on pretending that everything was fine, you could learn to let him go.

A new clip began to play. You were seated on the edge of a bench, face scrunched in frustration as you ran a hand through your hair. The sound of Lando’s laughter crackled through the speakers, light and teasing, as he zoomed in on your expression from behind the camera.

“You’re such a drama queen,” he said, voice laced with amusement.

It was clear that from that clip that he was trying to cheer you up. It had been one of those moments when everything felt overwhelming. Your plans, future, and feelings. Yet, even in your frustration, Lando had managed to make you laugh. He always did. Watching it now, you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at how young and naïve you looked.

But the video carried more weight than just a frustration afternoon. That day, you had a front-row seat to another chapter in Lando’s pursuit of Luisa. It was the day he told you that he finally confessed his feeling to her, and you could still remember how his voice sounded. It was a mix of hope and vulnerability as he recounted every detail, but his excitement had quickly dimmed when Lando explained how his confession had met an uncertainty from Luisa, not really sure how she felt about Lando.

You remembered how that hurt him, even if he tried to hide it behind his usual bravado. It was one of the few times you had seen Lando genuinely shaken, his confidence chipped away by a single sentence. Still, it did not stop him, if anything, it only made him more determined to win her over.

This is exactly what Lando is—relentless, persistent, unwilling to let go of something he wanted.

Then there was you, caught in the orbit of it all. A pattern had started to form, one you did not want to acknowledge but couldn’t ignore. Whenever Luisa turned her back on him, when his texts went unanswered, or her attention drifted elsewhere, Lando would always find his way to you. His calls would come late at night, voice low and tinged with sadness as he stumbled through excuses to keep you on the line, and you, despite knowing better, would always answer.

Those were the moments you chastised yourself for loving. When Lando was hurt, when he felt small and alone, he always came to you. You were the person he confided in, one he leaned on. It almost felt like you mattered to him in the way you wanted to. Even if you knew, deep down, that it was not that. That it was temporary, a band-aid for his bruised ego—you couldn’t help but savor the attention.

But then, inevitably, Luisa would give him the smallest bit of her time, and you would become invisible to him again. The calls would stop, texts would taper off, and Lando would be lost in the glow of her half-hearted affection. You would feel the ache of being left behind, sting of knowing you were nothing more than a safety net, a placeholder, a convenient fallback plan.

It was a never ending cycle you despised, one that made you look at yourself with pity as you played into it. But whether it was out of hope or some cruel sense of inevitability, you stayed. You let it happen. Time and time again, picking up the pieces when Lando fell apart, only to watch him hand them back to her the moment she glanced his way.

It was always like this. It had always been like this, and somehow, despite everything, you definitely hadn’t learned your lesson.

The video continued to play, the faint static of old footage mixing with Lando’s voice can be heard, his laughter like a distant echo from another life. As you watched yourself on the screen—smiling, frowning, existing in a world where everything felt so much simpler—memories came rushing back, faster and heavier than you had expected. They were not just simple memories of moments, they were reminders of how deeply you felt, how much your life revolved around Lando without you even realizing it.

Your feelings for him had always been the silent undercurrent of your friendship, unspoken but ever-present. You had spent so much time trying to convince yourself that it was just a phase, that you would grow out of it, but you never did.

Instead, those feelings rooted themselves deeper, becoming a part of you. You wondered if the reason you hadn’t moved on was not because you could not, but because you hadn’t really tried at all. Maybe you were afraid, maybe life felt easier when you let it stay messy, undefined—when you clung to the hope that Lando might see you differently someday.

But the reality of it all was far less romantic. You had become his backburner, a place he turned to only when he had nowhere else to go, and the most pathetic part? You didn’t even mind. You let yourself burn quietly on his backburner, knowing full well you would never be the main thing in his life.

No matter how many times you say to yourself that it was okay, that you could handle it, deep down it ate you. There wasn’t anyone else you wanted, there hadn’t been for years. It was always him, it will always be Lando—his laugh, his voice, his stupid smile that made you forget the pain he caused by just being himself. You hated it, and yet you couldn’t even let it go.

Your memory reeled in to that one particular night, a night etched into your memory like a scar. Lando had called you on facetime, his face illuminated by the glow of his phone. His eyes were red, voice trembling with raw emotions as he told you what happened with Luisa.

She had hurt him again, made him feel small in a way that he couldn’t quite put into words. Lando looked so broken, so unlike himself, that it made your heart twist in ways that you did not want to admit.

And yet, you couldn’t help but tease him. You told him how he looked ugly when he cried, masking your own hurt with humor. But inside, there was a flicker of something else—something cruel and selfish. You felt happy that he thought of you in that moment, that you were the person he called when everything else in his life fell apart. It was sick and twisted, and you couldn’t have hated yourself more for it, but it was the truth.

At the same time, you felt conflicted, torn between two versions of yourself. Part of you wanted to scream at him, to tell him how much he had hurt you by treating you like an afterthought. But the other part of you, the part that still believed in him, in the friendship you had shared since you were kids—wanted to comfort him, to be there for him even if it meant breaking yourself in the process.

You always knew how it would go. In a week or so, Lando would be back on his feet, back in Luisa’s orbit, and you would fade into the background again. He would stop calling, texting, and you would be left alone again, waiting for the next time he needed you. You wished you could stop caring, that you could let him go and just move on, but you couldn’t. You cared too much, loved him too deeply, and it was destroying you.

You stayed. You stayed because even though it hurt, even though it made you feel small and invisible, there was still a part of you that believed in him. In the boy who had once held your camcorder, laughing as he filmed you spinning in circles in the park. In the friend who had always been there, even when it felt like the rest of the world wasn’t. You believed in him, even if it meant you couldn’t believe in yourself.

You checked the timestamp on the video and realized it was nearing the end. The final clips began to play, taking you back to a day you remembered so clearly—the beach trip. The screen filled with bright sunlight and sand, camera jerking slightly as Lando filmed you running along the shoreline, wearing one of his bucket hats and sunglasses, your laughter ringing out over the crashing waves.

You watched yourself as if through someone else’s eyes—carefree, alive, darting back and forth like a puppy with boundless energy. Lando’s voice came from behind the camera, teasing you for your antics, and you couldn’t help but chuckle softly at the memory.

It was one of those days you had hoped would change everything. Lando wasn’t thinking about Luisa then. He was with you, laughing, joking, making you feel like maybe you mattered more to him than you let yourself believe. You had clung to that slight flicker of hope every time he drifted back into your orbit, telling yourself that the moments he spent with you would eventually outweigh the hold Luisa had over him. But you know then, deep down, you knew better. You had always known better.

The last clip began to play. The two of you were in one of his cars, the camera shakily capturing the scene as he handed it to you. Lando had insisted you try driving it, grinning with the kind of reckless confidence that was so quintessentially him. You know that he hated someone driving him, especially that it was his car, but he didn’t even hesitated when it came to you.

The video was cut to him standing outside, filming you through the windshield as you tried to maneuver his car into a parking spot, and it was a disaster. He zoomed in on your face, flushed and irritated, as you waved frantically at him to get back inside of his car and help you. Your lips moved as you shouted something at him, your expression twisted in mock anger, but it only made him laugh.

That sound, the sound of his laughter—echoed through the room as you watched yourself scowling at him, completely oblivious to how the moment would look years later.

When the video finally faded to black, you sat there in silence, staring at the black screen of your laptop. A heavy sigh escaped your lips as a sad smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. The memories left a bittersweet feeling in their wake, filling your chest with an ache that never really went away.

You always knew the truth. You would always be in Lando’s corner, even when it felt like he had forgotten you existed. You would stay, waiting in the shadows, knowing full well you were his second choice, or maybe not even a choice at all. Yet, you couldn’t really bring yourself to care, you had settled on being Lando’s backburner long ago, content to exist where he had placed you, because even the smallest scraps of his attention felt like more than you deserved. You knew it would never be enough, but it was all you had.

When you left the UK, you had never properly said goodbye to Lando. You couldn’t face him—not after everything. It had been the hardest thing you had ever done, leaving the place where you grew up and leaving the person that mattered to you the most.

The day you were about to board the plane to America was supposed to be the start of something new for you. But it also turned out to be the same day Lando and Luisa had finally gotten together. It didn’t make sense at first, you had been too wrapped up in your own plans to notice anything strange.

You were so focused on your own future, dreams, and adventure that lay ahead. But the moment you realized what had really happened, the gut-wrenching truth hit you all at once. Despite everything, despite all the years of friendship, despite the deep feelings you had kept buried, Lando had never said a word to you.

The first sign came two weeks before your departure, when you noticed he had not contacted you. Not once. You couldn’t even remember the last time you had spoken, and then, one evening, it hit you. While youwere scrolling through instagram, lost in the sea of photos and videos, you saw it.

Lando and Luisa standing together in a sunlit paradise. They were everywhere—clinging to each other, smiling like they had always been this happy. Their arms wrapped around each other, looking like the couple everyone thought they were meant to be, living out the kind of romance you had always imagined for yourself—only, it was not with you.

It stung more that you could have imagined. It felt like a cruel grip and punch to the stomach—seeing them together, seeing him in a way you never thought you would. There they were, living life, having fun in Dubai, while you had been silently fading into the background, unable to say anything, unable to be anything more than just a shadow.

It suddenly made the decision easier for you. Maybe it was petty, or childish. But at that moment, it felt like it was the only way to protect yourself. You didn’t need to say goodbye, or talk to him again. You didn’t think that talking or saying goodbye to him would even change anything. You didn’t want to face the truth anymore—didn’t want to admit how much it hurts to be forgotten, be pushed aside while he moved on.

So, you did what you had to do. You packed up everything, every piece of your life that had been tangled with Lando’s, and left. You left without a word, without any explanation. The silence between you felt so final, so complete, as if you were never even meant to matter.

When you landed in America, you didn’t waste any second. You changed your number, blocked him on social media, deleted every trace of him from your phone, from your mind, from your life. It was easier that way, right? No more reminders of what you could never have. No more wondering if he still thought about you. It was better to start fresh, even if starting over meant leaving everything you knew behind. You never looked back, at least that’s what you told yourself.

You gently closed your laptop, the soft click of the screen snapping shut, and disconnected the camcorder. You wanted to throw it away, erase it from your life entirely, but something stopped you. Maybe it was the hope that one day, you could look at it without all the pain attached to it, or maybe it was the attachment to something that had once meant so much.

With a deep sigh, you placed it back in the memory box, careful not to let it settle to heavily among the other momentos you had packed away. You knew you wouldn’t be able to part with it—not yet at least. Instead, you pushed the box deeper into your storage room, where it would sit quietly for now, out of sight but never far from your mind.

You stood there for a moment, staring at the box as if it might somehow speak to you, but all it did was remain silent, like everything else in your life that you had tried to put behind you. The soft sound of snow falling outside caught your attention, and you moved toward the window, your gaze drawn to the soft flurry of while blanketing the streets below.

Christmas was approaching in just a week, and for a brief moment, you wished you could go home, back to your family, to the familiar comfort of the holiday season. But the thought quickly passed. Home felt too far now, and you had your own life to navigate, a life in New York that, for all its challenges, had become a place you had grown to love.

You turned away from the window and began to change, pulling on warm clothes fit for the snow outside. It wasn’t much, just a quick errand to stock up on groceries before it got too dark. You didn’t mind the task, it gave you a reason to get out, to take in the city and its wintry charm. The air was fresh and crisp as you made your way out of your apartment, locking the door behind you with a soft click.

The world around you was calm as you stepped out into the quiet of the snowy streets, snowflakes falling gently around you, almost like a veil between you and the hustle of city life. New York felt different in the winter, quieter somehow, even as the holiday decorations began to shine brighter. Streetlights casting long shadows across the snow, and you admired the festive cheer that the city wore like a second skin. You had seen the Christmas tree lighting at the New Haven Green just last week, a tradition that always brought a sense of warmth despite the chill in the air.

Walking through the snow, you felt a small sense of contentment, something you had been searching for but hadn’t fully realized was within reach. The lights, crisp air—all of it made you feel like you had carved out a space of your own here. You hoped that it would stay that way, that the peace you had found wouldn’t be disturbed, even as the holiday season and all its chaos loomed on the horizon.

The grocery store was just a few blocks away, but your thoughts drifted to other things—nothing too heavy, just the soft hum of city life. It had been a peaceful walk, but then, you froze.

Your eyes caught a glimpse of something, or rather someone, someone so familiar in the distance. Curly hair that you could picture in your sleep. At first, you thought it was a trick of the light, a resemblance that your mind conjured up after hours of rewatching old videos. You quickly dismissed the thought, trying to shake it off. It couldn’t be. He wouldn’t be here.

But then, as if the universe had conspired to pull the past back into your life. The person looked up, and everything in your world stopped. It was him.

Your heart pounded in your chest, and you felt your breath hitch in your throat. The air around you seemed to thicken, sounds of the city dimming in the background as you took in the sight of him. Lando. In New York. Of all places he can be in right now, why was he here?

It had taken a long time to convince yourself, year after year, that you were fine, that you had moved on, that everything was better this way. Yet here he was, standing only a few meters away from you, the same familiar figure that had been a part of your life for so long.

You both stood there, frozen in place, just staring at each other as people around passed you by. Neither of you moved, as if the moment held too much weight to let anything else happen. It was like time had bent around you, your mind racing, questions swirling, but none of them found their way to your lips. You couldn’t speak, you weren’t even sure you could breathe.

Lando stood there too, his eyes meeting yours with an intensity that everything else feel irrelevant. You knew he hadn’t expected to see you. Not here, not like this. Yet, there he was—right in front of you, a ghost from your past made flesh, making the familiar ache in your chest resurface.

You had thought you were done with him, that you had moved on, but standing here, with him so close and yet so far, you realized that maybe you had not moved on as much as you thought.

The world around you seemed to hold its breath.

Memories (Slash x reader)

Requested:

AHHH okay, so gnr ok. How about a Slash fic, where it's like super duper fluffy and he slow dances with you? i hope you like this ideaaaa, thank u x @eatmyshiftsticky

COMMENT IF YOU WANT TO BE ON A TAGLIST! OR GO TO MY BIO TO ADD YOURSELF TO ONE!

REQUESTS ARE OPEN!!!!

SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Memories

////

You smile to yourself as you stare out into the country side. The beautiful hills look like they go on for miles. The summer breeze can be felt going through your hair.

You and Slash just recently settled on this old colonial house in the middle of nowhere.

His days of touring with Guns N' Roses is over. He wanted to settle in something stable in a place that's calming. Your family owned this house for generations, but only visited it to make sure it didn't go into disrepair.

As you stare off into space, your mind wanders into your memories.

The night Slash asked you to marry him was quite possibly the best night of your life. Guns had finally finished Use Your Illusions Pt. 1 and 2. Slash had decided that he'd had enough of Axl's bullshit and wanted to get back into touch with Steven and Izzy.

You had just gotten back to the small apartment you and Slash shared in Los Angeles when he came bursting into the small place.

He took you by surprise by picking you up from behind and spinning around in a circle.

You screamed in surprise, but started to laugh when you realized it was just your dork of a boyfriend. He sat you down, turning you around so that you're facing each other.

"It's time to celebrate!" Slash yelled, taking a ponytail from your wrist. He pulled his hair back so that you could see his face.

"Why's that?" You asked, wrapping your arms around the excited man in front of you.

"I quit the band!"

"You what?" You asked, completely dumbfounded. You thought he loved the band.

"I quit! I can't stand Axl throwing his hissy fits anymore. I came so close to punching him earlier then I just told him I quit. Maybe Steven and Izzy will talk to me again. . ." Slash trailed off.

You sighed. "What about Duff?"

"Oh," Saul laughed. "He quit too."

"So Guns N' Roses is just Axl Rose now?" You laughed.

"Yep. That's what the bastard gets, though," Slash pulled you into a strong embrace. "This is probably the best thing I've done in a while." He pulled away, his beautiful brown eyes lighting up. "Well, second best thing."

"What do you-?"

Before you could finish your question, Saul let go of you completely and was down on one knee. From his pocket he pulled out a blue velvet box. He opened the box to reveal a gorgeous diamond engagement ring. You gasped, tears sprung to your eyes. You covered your mouth with your hand, attempting to stop the tears.

"(Y/N), the last few years with you have been the happiest of my life. You've made me happier than I ever thought I could be. You've been there for me, even when I was shit faced and an absolute dick to you. Not once have you left me over a stupid argument and you've been so understanding. I love you with all of my heart," He said, taking a breath. "With that being said, will you make me the happiest man on Earth and marry me?"

You didn't even have to think about your answer. "Of course!"

With that he got up from the ground and kissed you passionately.

You're pulled out of the sweet memory when you hear Saul calling your name. You don't move. You know he'll find you eventually.

You hear the back door opening. Then the heavy footsteps of the man you love.

Your view of the country was blocked by a head with wild, curly black hair and a top hat on his head. You can't see his eyes because of the round framed sunglasses he has on.

"Hello, beautiful," Saul says happily.

You giggle, reaching forward to tug on the ends of his hair. "Hey, sexy."

He grins at you, just enjoying the view of you. "Okay," Slash says. "Get up."

"Why?" You whine. You're perfectly comfortable in the rocking chair.

"Because I wanna do something."

"Saul."

"Please?"

"Fine."

You get up, your hand locked with Slash's. He pulls you down the porch steps and onto the grass. He pulls you in closely, one hand on your waist and the other interlaced with your hand. You put your free hand on his shoulder, allowing him to lead you in a dance without music. You don't find this odd. He actually does this a lot. You'll just be sitting on the couch and he'll pull you up to slow dance.

He hums an unfamiliar tune in your ear.

"I love you," He says. You can see the grin on his face. "Happy ten year, babe."

Taglist:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @Kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Slash: @daisystuffsstuff @jayprettymuchomw

Wildflower (OP81 x fem!reader x LN4)

Chapter 1

SERIES SUMMARY: You’ve been best friends with Oscar Piastri since you were seven, far before the dream of Formula 1 even seemed possible. You’ve been with him from the very beginning—due, in no small part, to the fact that you’ve been in love with him since you were a teenager. But when a breakup and championship battle rattles the very foundations of your friendship, you begin to question if you ever really knew him. (Best friends to lovers, based on the song Wildflower by Billie Eilish)

WORD COUNT: 11.1k

WARNINGS: Oscar is not a very good boyfriend to Lily and Lily is not a very good girlfriend to Oscar. Potentially changed some dates (I think Oscar and Lily started dating when they were 17 or 18, but I’m making them 18 for the sake of the flashback scenes). Reader is “the girl he told me not to worry about” through no fault of her own. This story has a lot of complex character dynamics and everyone is flawed! References to sex but no actual smut.

A/N: Ah new series! I hope this is good—I’m trying some new stuff with the flashbacks and story layers, so I hope it doesn’t read too confusingly! Also, I’m trying to be more intentional with showing instead of telling with my dialogue and such, so hopefully that is an improvement. I always welcome constructive criticism, but either way, I hope you all enjoy this.

“Lily left me.”

He only needed those three words to convey the gravity of the situation. On the other end of the line, you were silent. He was too. What was there to say?

No, it couldn’t be real. Oscar and Lily were inseparable. The dream couple of Formula 1. Your best friend had been in love with her since the pair were 18, attending boarding school in the UK together while Oscar pursued his dreams of making it to F1. 

They were each other’s everything. At least, that’s what the world thought.

But you had seen this coming for a while now. It was just a shock for it to actually happen. 

Finally, after an eternity, you spoke, still too shocked to formulate a coherent thought. “What do you mean?” you asked.

“I mean she fucking left me. What else do you want me to say?” You could hear the quivering in his voice, giving away the sadness behind his abrasive response. You weren’t offended one bit. 

“Shit, Osc, I’m so sorry. I… don’t know what to say. Do you want me to come over? Or you can come to mine?” 

“I’m outside yours right now. In the car park.” 

“I’ll let you in,” you said. The mental image you conjured of Oscar outside your apartment crying in his fancy McLaren would have been comical, if not given the circumstances.

He let himself in only a few moments later, hoodie covering his tall and muscled frame. He was soaked from the rain outside—he must have come directly from the confrontation. 

“Oh, Oscar,” you said, pulling him into a hug, cringing at the contact with his soggy hoodie, but knowing that there were far more important things to be worried about. 

You rubbed your hands up and down his shoulder blades that now heaved with sobs. His entire body shook with the fervor of his tears, and you just held him, gently shushing him and promising that everything will be okay. 

“I don’t know how she could do this to me,” he said, gasping out the words between haggard breaths. “The championship—I can’t do it without her.”

“I know,” you assured him. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“No it’s not, YN, it’s not gonna be okay. I love her. And she just threw away so many years.”

“I know.” You just kept assuring him, tightening your grip on him as his sobs became more intense. “Just breathe.”

“Why would she do this to me?” he asked. “I don’t understand. I don’t know what I did to deserve this.”

You knew. And deep down, Oscar did too. That was a conversation for another day. But he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t seen this coming. 

You didn’t have it in you to lie to him. You had always been the type to pride yourself on being honest, even when the truth hurt, but you couldn’t bear to do it now. You changed the subject.

“Oscar, you’re soaking wet. I’ll find you something else and warm that up in the dryer, yeah? Just sit down, take a deep breath, and let me get this figured out.”

He sat down on your couch and took off his hoodie and t-shirt underneath, revealing his toned body. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before—you’d been friends with him since you were seven, growing up together. He almost felt like a brother to you, sometimes.

Maybe it wouldn’t be weird at all, except for the fact that you’d been in love with him for over a decade now. 

But right now that didn’t matter. He had plenty of old hoodies over in your apartment, which you carefully folded every time he forgot them. Placing his wet clothes in the dryer and setting the temp on high, you reached to the shelf above you and grabbed a random one. You unfolded it—an Alpine hoodie from back in the day, before his time at McLaren. You smiled at the memories that flashed in your mind, before quickly returning to Oscar with the garment. 

He had moved from your couch to your bedroom, holding a pillow on his lap, hunched over where the top of it met his chin. He was staring off into space, not breaking his gaze at the plain white wall.

You sat next to him, handing him the hoodie, and he mumbled a small thanks as he grabbed it. He didn’t put it on, instead just holding it with the pillow, as if filling his arms with the plush material would fill the hole now left in his heart.

“Oscar, I… don’t have anything profound to say. I’m so sorry.”

He didn’t respond at first, instead just silently letting the tears well up in his eyes. 

“I guess I should have seen this coming,” he said quietly. 

You paused, unsure whether or not you should agree with him. But you were nothing if not honest.

“Yeah,” you said, “it’s been a rough few months.”

“I guess we just both fell out of love.”

“I mean… how did the conversation go?”

It would be stupidly easy for Oscar to lie and say he didn’t remember Lily’s every word. But he knew better, and so did you. As he explained, the memory replayed in his head.

“I can’t do this anymore, Oscar,” Lily said, a simple yet devastating statement.

“What do you mean? What’s wrong?” His confusion was genuine, much to the chagrin of his angry girlfriend.

“The fact that you even have to ask that proves my point.”

“Lily, talk to me. I don’t know what you’re trying to say.” Oscar stood up, now understanding the full gravity of the situation he found himself in. 

“I’m trying to say that I’m not happy anymore, and neither are you. I wanted to at least give it until the end of the season, but I can’t keep pretending that everything is okay when we both know bloody well that it’s not! Don’t you want something better than this, Oscar?” Lily pleaded. 

“I just want you. That’s all I’ve ever wanted.”

“Don’t lie to me. You say that but you put everything else before me. I’m not a priority to you. I haven’t been in a long time.”

“I’ll quit F1. We can go back to the UK and live a normal life.”

“No. We both know that you wouldn’t do that.” Her tone was incredulous, twinged with a slight anger at the mere suggestion. 

“Yes, I would. I’d do anything. Don’t do this, Lily. Not now, not when I need you the most.”

Lily grabbed his hand, leading him to sit down on the couch next to her. “Oscar,” she began, “we had a good run. You made me so, so happy for so long.” She reached up to gently cup his cheeks and wipe away where tears were now forming at the edge of his eyes. “I saw you achieve things that neither of us ever thought were possible. But…I can’t stay any longer. Not when there’s no place for me in your heart anymore.”

You sighed. You knew every word that Lily had said was right. But you also knew you couldn’t get that through to Oscar, at least not until the shock wore off.

The words remained unspoken. You had been there for all of it. Lily was his first love, his only girlfriend, and everyone assumed that he’d marry her one day; you included. 

“I just…I don’t know how I’m supposed to go on acting like my life didn’t just fall apart. How did you do it?”

This was Oscar's first breakup, but you had been through too many, it seemed, since he was asking you for advice on how to handle them.

The truth? It was very easy to get over a breakup when every partner you’ve ever had was a feeble attempt at denial. When they all inevitably failed, you just went back to bask in Oscar’s platonic love. It was enough. 

“I won’t lie to you, the first one is always hell. You feel like you’re going crazy for a while. You lose hope that you’ll ever feel happier, because everything reminds you of them. And then one day it just…doesn’t. The only thing that heals it is time and finding love around you, you know, friends and family.”

“No offense, but that doesn’t make me feel any better.”

‘Well, I’m not going to lie to you and say it’ll be easy, because it won't. But it will be okay—not today, but someday. You’ve got something to focus on with the championship. And I’ll be here.” You gave him an empathetic smile. 

Maybe you weren’t the most comforting friend to most. But you and Oscar had a bond that was very different to most friendships. You understood each other’s idiosyncrasies in ways no one else could. So when shit hit the fan, it was always each other that you went to.

You continued, “You can stay here as long as you like.”

“Thank you.”

There was only one problem: your apartment only had one bed. And to the dismay of fanfiction writers across the world, you all would not be sharing it. 

You distracted Oscar by cooking a meal and watching a comfort movie—Cars, a classic. You could tell he was exhausted by the way his head on your shoulder sloped just a little too heavily downwards as the credits rolled. 

“Okay, let’s get you to bed,” you said, gently pushing him awake. He sleepily stumbled back into your bedroom and collapsed on the bed, almost instantly falling back asleep.

You took the couch, but despite the money you spent splurging on the extra cushioned sofa, no sleep came to you. 

It wasn’t any physical discomfort that fueled your insomnia, but rather, the events of the previous evening. Lily had actually left Oscar. She had finally pulled the plug.

Yes, in some ways, it was expected. But at the same time, you couldn’t imagine a version of your best friend that wasn’t madly in love with his girlfriend. 

From the outside, though, you couldn’t blame Lily one bit. You wondered what had been the last straw. 

You could think of three possible moments. First: The Apartment. 

“I’m moving to Monaco,” Oscar began, and you felt your heart drop in your stomach. Of course, one day he’d make it to Monaco. That was the dream of every Formula 1 driver, right? The beauty of the French Riviera and tax evasion. And you’d be left at your aging flat in the UK, waiting for those precious few days a year where he was free to grace you with his presence. 

“That’s amazing!” you said, only half believing it to be true. 

“In a few weeks I’m gonna go look at condos. Come with me? Lily can’t get off work.”

“Of course,” you replied. You’d already been to Monaco before for Oscar’s races, but you wouldn’t turn down any reason to get out of the constant dreary rain of the UK. 

You felt like a celebrity as you coasted through the Monte Carlo streets in the passenger side of Oscar’s McLaren, on your way to tour fabulous properties for your best friend (the actual celebrity). You breathed in the saltwater breeze, fresh and tinged with the air of wealth and splendor.

But it hurt your heart to know that you were helping your best friend leave. You imagined him getting up and doing his morning runs along the harbor, the sun blazing down the strained muscles on his back. Then you laughed to yourself at the thought of Oscar, the pastiest Aussie you knew, getting sunburnt. 

At the first property you met the realtor, who (after mistaking you for Lily; not the first time, and certainly wouldn’t be the last) took the pair of you to different condos throughout the day. 

Oscar decided on the final one you saw; two bedrooms, plenty of natural light, and a great view. Elegant, refined and practical—just like Oscar himself. 

The realtor handed him the paperwork and left as you stood on the balcony, looking at the beauty of the city before you. You were quiet, unusually so, and Oscar noticed. 

He sat the paperwork on the kitchen counter and walked onto the balcony next to you. “Beautiful, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” you said, your voice lowered. “You’re gonna make such beautiful memories here.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me now?”

You smiled and laughed. “A little,” you admitted, “I can’t help it. I’ll miss you all.” 

“You could always come with us. You seem to like it here,” he teased, tilting his head toward the edge of the balcony.

“You’d have to give me a raise if I was gonna afford Monaco rent prices.” You’d been running Oscar’s merch store and social media for the past few years, making a great wage, but nowhere near the immense wealth you’d need to call a place like this home. You joked with him, knowing Oscar actually had nothing to do with how much you got paid. 

“I would if I could. But, I mean, if you had a place to stay it wouldn’t really be that bad.”

“Are you suggesting I move into your guest room?”

Now he laughed. “No, but I’m just saying, if you had an apartment, you could make it work.”

You raised an eyebrow, confused, but trying to go along with the joke. “Well, sure, but apartments don’t just appear out of thin air.”

“You never know.” Oscar scratched the back of his neck and looked away, a sign of the awkwardness that now blanketed your moment on the balcony. 

“What are you getting at?”

“Well, theoretically, if someone were to have a spare apartment that they weren’t using, you could live there and Monaco would be a reasonable place to live, no?”

You didn’t answer his question, instead just giving him another confused glance until he gave up whatever he was trying to say. He still couldn’t meet your gaze. 

“Look—I don’t want to live so far away from my friend. Is that such a bad thing?”

“Oscar, you…”

“I got you an apartment.”

“You… bought me an apartment. In Monaco.” It came out more like a statement than a question, evidence of your shock. He reached into his pocket and dug out a key, holding it out to you.

You just looked at him with an incredulous expression. “Oscar, I can’t accept that.”

“Why not?”

“How much was it?” 

“I have more than enough money.”

“Answer the question.”

He pursed his lips and shrugged. “About 4 million?” 

Your eyes widened in shock. “Before you say anything,” he began, “I made over 30 million last year. I have more money than I’d ever know what to do with, so why not just spend it all on the people I love?” 

“Oscar… I can’t, that’s too much.”

“Will you at least go look at it with me? Actually, I’m driving, so you don’t have a choice,” he joked, walking back into the apartment. “Let’s go.”

You sighed, smiling to yourself. There was no way you could let Oscar buy you a 4 million dollar apartment, but also, how could you not? The wind whipped through your hair as you rolled down the window of his McLaren, drinking in the beauty of the city around you. 

The apartment was smaller than the one he had picked for himself and Lily, but you didn’t mind one bit. It was perfectly cosy, and God, the view was spectacular. You could see the whole city from his apartment, but here, you could see the water. You stepped on the balcony and took a deep breath, taking in the sound of the ocean waves beneath you. 

Oscar followed you. “It’s a bit small, but I figured you’d like the view.”

“Oscar…”

“If you really don’t want it, I can rent it out. But I’d much rather have you close.” He held out the keys again. “What do you say?”

You could have told him you needed more time to think about it, but deep down, you already knew what you wanted. You took the keys. “Thank you. Thank you so much, Oscar. Seriously.”

“No need to thank me.” He smiled.

Back in the UK, he showed Lily the photos he had taken of the condo he had chosen for them as they went over the paperwork one last time.

He grabbed the pen to scratch out one of the boxes Lily had checked, hoping she wouldn’t notice. 

“Oh, did I mess something up?” Shit. She leaned over his shoulder, reading the paperwork aloud. “Please indicate if you own any additional properties in the principality of Monaco.” She looked at Oscar. “You already have a property there?” 

“Oh, erm, yeah,” he said, hoping the conversation would end there. 

“How come I never heard about this?” 

“Um, I just got it a bit ago.”

Lily could sense her boyfriend’s hesitancy. “Is this something I wasn’t supposed to know about?”

“Oh, no,” he said, “it’s not like that. I just didn’t think to mention it.”

“So, what is this property?”

“An apartment.” 

Lily hated feeling like she was having to interrogate Oscar, but clearly there was some piece of the puzzle missing that was causing his reluctance. 

“An apartment?” she questioned. “You got another apartment?”

“Yeah, I, um,” he looked at the ceiling while scratching his neck, a clear sign of his nervousness, “I was planning on giving it to YN.”

“You bought YN an apartment in Monaco? When were you planning on telling me about this?” 

His walls of defense had finally broken down. “It’s not a big deal. I made more than enough last season, I could afford it.  And it’s just easier to have her there for the brand shoots and media stuff. Plus, I mean, she came to London to support me after graduation, even though I know she hates it here. I just figured I should repay the favor.”

“...Okay,” Lily began, her voice tinged with skepticism. “So, you do realize what this looks like, right?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, my boyfriend bought an apartment for his “best friend” and tried to hide it from me. That’s the kind of thing cheating husbands do in movies, buy an apartment for their mistress for her to keep it quiet.”

Oscar wasn’t sure what annoyed him more, the air quotes Lily placed around “best friend” or the insinuation that he had been unfaithful. 

“Lily, seriously? I’m not cheating on you, I love you and you know that.”

“When were you going to tell me about this?”

“I don’t know, I didn’t think it was that big of a deal. You know YN and I have been friends forever, it’s not like I did this for some random woman. I don’t appreciate being accused of lying.”

“But you were lying by omission.”

“Lily—”

“You know, nothing against her, but one of the reasons I was looking forward to this move was having more…us time. Without YN.” 

The statement brought a bitter taste to his mouth. Despite what she had said, it seemed like Lily did have something against you.

“You know, this kind of thing is why I was putting off telling you about it.”

“What are you saying?” she asked. Oscar knew he was tempting fire, but he didn’t care.

He continued, “You’re freaking out because I did something kind for a friend. I’m allowed to do whatever I want with my money.”

“I never said you weren’t, and I’m not freaking out. But I guess I’m just such a horrible person for saying I want to spend more time with my boyfriend.”

“If you’re putting down my “best friend” to do it,” he said, mocking her air quotes, “then yeah, that’s not cool.” 

“Oscar, you’re being so…weird about all of this. I’m not insulting YN. I just want to spend more time with you.”

“We’re literally going on vacation in February!”

“With friends. You invited your friends to our romantic getaway, Oscar.”

“You know I only have so much time off during the off season, and I’m spending most of it with realtors and accountants and eight thousand other people preparing us for this move. God forbid I want to invite my friends to Italy with us. Not everything can be just us, Lily.”

“Okay,” she sighed. “I’m done with this conversation.”

The second next instance you could think of happened on the trip.

It was a beautiful getaway to the Amalfi Coast, your dream destination that you’d somehow never made it to.

The group of Oscar’s friends, including you and Lando, had plans to come and go, with everyone being gone before the fourteenth so that Oscar and Lily could have their Valentine's Day date. Of course, you knew nothing of the arguments they’d had in the past about this, but you had common sense enough to not be a third wheel. Oscar thought this was a good enough compromise. 

Well, he thought. 

From the moment he picked you up from the airport, you could tell that the energy was different than usual. He blamed it on jet lag, but you knew better. You knew your best friend too well.

It didn’t take you long to figure out the problem was between him and Lily. She was colder towards him; not enough for anyone but you and him to notice, but still there and undeniable. 

Even weirder was Lily’s…preoccupation, it seemed, with pointing out single and attractive men to you. It wasn’t a hushed reality that you were single, and had been for some time. You'd given up on dating a long time ago—you knew that you had already found the love of your life, and he just happened to be Lily’s boyfriend.

But, of course, you’d never tell anyone this. Lots of people were confused because you seemed so fine being single. But you thought that Lily, one of your best friends (at least, by association), would know that you weren’t really interested in meeting anyone. 

You sat with Lily in a restaurant overlooking the coast, the balcony having been rented out by Oscar for one of your last dinners. You all were waiting for him and Lando to join you, passing the time by ordering wine and appetizers.

“He’s cute, isn’t he?” Lily said, gesturing her head to your waiter that was walking back into the main restaurant. 

You didn’t really know what to say. You glanced at him through the glass wall. “Lily, he most definitely plays for the other team, if you know what I mean,” you joked, reaching for a slice of bread on the table. “I didn’t know that was your type.”

“Well I don’t mean for me, I meant for you.”

You chuckled. “For me?”

“Well, yeah. Don’t you want to get yourself a hot Italian man?”

“I’m perfectly happy being single.” You tried to diffuse the awkward conversation, keeping a kind tone in your voice as you ate the bread and looked into the distance at the coastline.

“Oh, come on. We’ll get you someone, don’t worry.”

“I really am fine being single.”

“You know who else is single?” she asked, clearly ignoring your protests. “Lando!”

You laughed aloud. “Oh God, no. If I wanted to be cheated on, I would have stayed with my ex. Besides, Oscar would kill him.”

A curious fact: Oscar had never approved of a single person you had ever introduced him to. You had to spend hours talking him out of running over your ex with his F1 car after you found out about his infidelity. 

“Oh, who cares what Oscar thinks? I think you should go for it,” she said, watching as the waiter returned to pour your glasses of wine. 

“Lily,” you said, holding your glass, ready to take a sip, “I don’t want to be in a relationship, like, at all. It’s just…not for me.” You sipped the wine, but through the reflection on the glass, you could see that Lily had pursed her lips in an expression you couldn’t quite read.

“If you want me to stop third-wheeling you and Oscar, you can just say so,” you joked as the boys made their way to the balcony to join you. 

You didn’t know it, but your joke cut deep in Lily’s heart. 

Nothing was said about it during the dinner, but Lily’s strange energy continued. It quickly became uncomfortable how much she was pushing Lando and you to interact. 

And when you all made your way to a local nightclub after the dinner, it didn’t get any better. Lando quickly got himself lost in the crowd, and you were once again left to be the third wheel. 

You could tell that Lily was getting annoyed, but to be fair, she was also annoying you. 

“Go dance with Lando!” she shouted over the thumping bass. She gestured to the opposite corner of the small club, where Lando was currently making out with some random Italian woman. 

You pointed this fact out to Lily, who just grimaced. 

“Do you just want me to go away?” you joked.

“Yes!” she said, and you were taken aback, because she was definitely not joking. 

Oscar was at the bar getting drinks, far enough away that he couldn’t hear. To be honest, you didn’t even want to be in this club anymore. 

So you snuck out and began your walk home without telling any of them.

As you walked along the cobblestone streets, Oscar handed Lily a drink, pausing when he noticed that you weren’t there to receive yours. “Where’s YN?” he asked.

“She wasn’t feeling well, so she headed back,” Lily said. 

“By herself? Should we go check on her?”

Lily wanted to roll her eyes. “No, she’s just tired. C’mon, let’s go dance!”

Oscar obeyed, but couldn’t ignore the feeling inside him that something about this whole night had been odd. 

The next time he saw Lando, he decided to say something about it. 

“Hey mate, are you going back soon?” he asked. Lando nodded, clearly tipsy. “Can you check on YN? Lily said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Sure,” he said, annoyed at the mention of you again.

He did come back to the house soon, but with an equally drunk and giggly woman on his arm, the same girl he had been making out with in the corner of the club. 

You didn’t expect any of them for a long time, so you sat in the living room of the AirBNB, watching the waves cascade into the shore, romanticizing this complicated feeling that coiled itself inside of you. 

That was, until Lando stumbled in. 

His eyes got wide as dinner plates upon seeing you. The girl on his arm giggled and walked off into the nearest bathroom. 

“Hey YN,” he slurred. “Are you dying?”

You laughed. “I’m fine.”

“Lily said you were sick.” 

“Nope, I’m good.” 

He looked to the closed door of the bathroom. “Sorry about that,” he said.

“You’re fine. I’m…uh, not interested, anyway. I don’t know what Lily’s been on about today.”

“Oh, thank God,” he exhaled. You laughed, despite the sting of rejection in his relief. “Well, I’ll keep it quiet.”

“I’ve got headphones.”

You made your way to your room and put on your noise cancelling headphones, passing the time by scrolling and catching up on work emails, before falling asleep.

You didn’t sleep through the night, instead waking up in the early hours of the morning, when the sun was just beginning to round itself along the golden coast. You left your room to get a glass of water, not expecting to see the rest of your friends in the kitchen.

Lily looked hungover as hell, leaning her elbow on the counter, her hand resting uncomfortably on her forehead. Oscar was leaning against the counter on the other side while Lando sat at the bar next to Lily, drinking something out of a mug. His flight home was going to leave soon. 

You nodded to your three companions as you sipped your water glass, feeling the tension around you like an oncoming migraine. 

“You feeling okay?” Oscar asked. “Lily said you weren’t doing well last night.”

“Ah, just tired,” you answered. Lily had lied to both Lando and Oscar. That was a conversation for another day. 

“Well rested now?” Lily asked, her voice tinged with anger and fake sympathy.

“I’m fine,” was all you could answer. You glanced at Oscar, who gave you a knowing look. You had no idea what had gotten into her.

“Are you feeling okay, Lily? You look like you’re about to throw up,” you said, a more genuine concern in your voice.

“I’m fine too,” she said, clearly not fine.

Lando’s Uber pulled up, and you took the opportunity to help him transfer all his bags in one trip.

“Do you have any idea what’s going on with her?” he asked as you heaved the suitcase up into the trunk.

“No idea,” you answered. “Before you all got to the restaurant last night she was being…weird. For the record, I didn’t put her up to any of that.”

“I figured as much. You’re not the type.” Lando was right—it was common knowledge that you were happily single. 

“I’m sorry if it made you uncomfortable. For the record, it made me uncomfortable too.”

He exhaled. “Eh, we’re cool. No hard feelings, yeah? I’m sure she’ll snap out of it.” 

“I hope so,” you said, giving him a wave as the car disappeared into the winding roads of the coast.

Back in the house, you could hear Oscar and Lily whispering to each other. You wanted nothing more than to disappear and act like this weird night and morning had never happened, but unfortunately, you had to cross through the kitchen back to your room. 

A hush went through the room when you entered. You walked as quickly as possible through the kitchen, but were stopped by a voice.

“YN,” Lily called. “I think you should leave.”

“Lily—” Oscar interjected.

“I was just going back to my room anyway,” you explained.

“That’s not what I meant. I think you should go home.”

“Lily, don’t do this—” Oscar pleaded. You just stood in shock.

“Actually, let me clarify,” she continued. “YN, I don’t want you here. Go home.”

“Lily!” Oscar interjected. “Don’t say that.”

“No, it’s fine,” you said, even though it was definitely not fine. “Let me pack and I’ll be on my way.”

You turned and continued back to your room, fully prepared to do as you had just said. But Oscar followed you.

“YN, wait. Stay,” he said. 

“Oscar, it’s fine.”

“I am so sorry that Lily said that, but I want you here.”

“Look, I don’t know what’s going on between you two or why she’s so upset at me, but if someone tells me to go, I’m not going to overstay my welcome.”

“Still, that was so rude.”

“I’ve got thick skin. I won’t cry myself to sleep over it.” You looked out the window to the coast. “Look, I’ll just find someplace else to stay. A hotel for a few nights is cheaper than trying to reschedule my flight, anyways.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t worry about me, Osc,” you said, patting his shoulder. “Go talk to her, figure out what’s wrong.” 

He sighed, scratching the back of his neck. “I already know what’s wrong. She’s mad that we don’t spend enough time together.”

“Then go spend time with her.”

“That was the plan! But, I mean, I’m pissed that she said that to you. And she spent all day yesterday trying to set you and Lando up, which was fucking weird.”

“Yeah,” you exhaled with a twinge of laughter. “Look, with my record I can’t exactly give you love advice, but I don’t mind leaving. You all clearly need some space, anyway. Just text me if you need anything, okay?”

Oscar gave you a flat smile and nod. 

You packed and quickly booked a private room at a local hostel for the next few days, planning to enjoy the last few days as a solo trip. You truly didn’t care, but in the back of your mind, you hoped that everything would be okay. You never received that text from Oscar. 

Back at the house, Oscar and Lily were alone. And neither of them were happy.

“Just fucking go with her if you’re that mad,” Lily said, egging Oscar on. He had always been slow to anger, but he couldn’t deny that he was pissed.

“What is wrong with you?” he questioned. “Why would you say that to her? Do you understand how rude that is? And not to mention the fact that you were being fucking weird with her and Lando all night.”

“Oscar, I’m not having this conversation right now.”

“No, I’m pissed!”

“And, as usual, it’s all about your feelings, hm?”

“What are you talking about?” 

“Don’t act stupid. Do you know how much I’ve put up with because I don’t want to hurt your feelings? Every vacation, every race weekend, she’s always there. And I put up with her because she’s your friend, but I don’t like her, Oscar.” 

“What did she do to you?” he asked. But Lily couldn’t answer. It wasn’t like there had been a specific incident or falling out; in fact, you had always been kind to her. Lily’s silence was all the answer that Oscar needed. 

“You knew that YN and I were a package deal from the beginning.” 

Tears came to Lily’s eyes. “But this was supposed to be our trip. Just us.” 

“Lily, they were only here for a few days. I specifically set it up so that we’d have 2 weeks to ourselves after they left. Is that not enough?” 

She was silent, at first. Then came a question out of left field. 

“Were you going to propose?” she asked.

Oscar made a face. “Propose?”

“I thought the point of the trip was that you were going to propose.” She looked away, trying to hide her tears. “I’m tired of feeling like an outsider in my own relationship. I’m sick of YN third wheeling, so I thought if I set her up with Lando, maybe she’d leave us alone for a while.” Her voice was tinged with an angry mocking. 

She continued, softer, “Oscar, I want to be your wife, I want to grow old with you—”

But Oscar had little sympathy for her. “That’s really what all this was about? Lily, I’m not proposing any time soon.”

“We’ve been together for nearly five years.”

“I know. But with the season starting soon—”

“There’ll always be another season, another race. Is your plan to just marry me when you retire?” The sarcasm had returned to her voice. “Do you even want to marry me?”

“Of course I do. But we’re young, we have time. I’m in no rush.” 

“I feel like you don’t care about what I want at all.”

“Lily, I’m trying. But I feel like you want me to cut off my best friend and settle down at 22. You’re asking things of me that I can’t give you.”

“Then why are we even doing this?” Lily asked.

“Because I love you, and I want this to work! But Lily, you can’t treat my friends like that. If you’re angry at me, talk to me, but don’t take it out on them. YN is an important part of my life, too.”

“I’m well aware.”

Oscar sighed. “I don’t know what you want me to say.”

“I’m going back to bed,” Lily announced, leaving the conversation altogether. 

When she woke up, her head was pounding. Oscar was asleep beside her, his back towards her, no warmth even in his unconscious state. She had slept through the entire day—the moon hung high in the sky. 

As she quietly made her way to the kitchen and got some water and a snack, the memory of what had happened came back, rushing over her. She felt horrible. 

The sleep and food had reset her mind. Make no mistake, she was still upset at Oscar, but what he had said was right—she shouldn’t have taken it out on you. She needed to make it right. 

She texted you. Hey YN, are you awake? I’d like to talk. In person, if you can. 

Only a few minutes later you responded, affirming that you were available and sending the address of your hostel. Lily got there quickly, quietly walking through the rooms to your private room in the back. When you shut the door behind you and you both sat on the bed, she broke down. 

“YN,” Lily began, “I am so sorry about this morning. Truthfully, I was upset at Oscar and I took it out on you, and I shouldn't have. I was so rude.”

“It’s okay,” you assured.

“No, it’s not,” Lily interjected. But she seemed at a loss for words. “I just… sometimes, I feel like I hardly get any alone time with Oscar anymore.”

“Because I’m always there?” you joked, not knowing how close to the truth you really were. Lily didn’t respond. “Look, if you want me to take a step back, I can do that.”

Her response was quiet. “Would that be too much to ask?”

“No.” But it was, in a way. You felt your heart shatter into a million pieces, but your expression gave away nothing. “I understand.”

“I don’t think he loves me anymore,” Lily confessed. You normally didn’t want to know the details of their relationship, because the truth was too heavy to bear. But it seemed cruel to cut her off. “I feel like he never wants to be around me, like he prefers his work and his friends over me. I want to get married and he doesn’t. He keeps saying it's too soon and he’s busy, but it’s been nearly five years! I mean, how long does he want me to wait?”

You felt uncomfortable, not sure how to comfort your best friend's girlfriend. So you were honest. “I don’t know, Lily. I don’t know what goes on in Oscar’s head any more than you do.”

“Yes you do,” she replied. “You’ve known him longer.” Her eyes filled with tears. “I think he’s in love with you.”

“No, no, no,” you said, wrapping Lily in an embrace as she cried. “No, he’s not. He loves you so much.”

“No,” she echoed. “He doesn’t.”

You didn’t know how to respond. You just held her. 

At one point, your phone buzzed, illuminating the screen. Some unimportant notification, but you noticed the date and time more than that. It was past midnight; Valentine’s Day. 

The third instance was during the first weekend of the 2025 season; the Australian Grand Prix.  

You hadn’t heard from Oscar since the trip. You didn’t really know what to say, and part of you was dreading having to speak to him, knowing that your mere presence was now a strain on his relationship.

Of course Lily wanted more time with him. It made sense. You were present at…most things, actually. But Oscar always invited you, and besides, they lived together. If you had known that you had overstayed your welcome, you never would have gone in the first place.

But on the other hand, you and Oscar had been a part of each other’s lives for nearly double the time that Lily had been around. It wasn’t a competition, but you couldn’t shake that sour feeling that rested in your stomach, that if given the chance, Lily would want you gone for good. 

Regardless, between the trip and the grand prix, life went on as normal. It was odd, since your job was literally running all the official OP81 media pages and merch website. You couldn’t not be a part of his life—you made your living by posting memes about him on the internet and organizing all his merch sales.

So, naturally, you went to nearly all the races to take photos of fans, the paddock, and the garage. It was one of your favorite parts of the job. 

But Australia was different. It was Oscar’s home race, and a place full of memories for you. 

Your family had moved to Australia when you were only seven, having absolutely no friends, except the sweet boy next door in your cul de sac. At first he was cold. You thought he hated you. But you were nothing if not stubborn. 

You remembered it like it was yesterday; for Christmas, you asked for a pink motorized jeep, just like the black one that Oscar—the neighbour boy, back then—had. You squealed for joy when you got it. And the very first thing you did was challenge him to a race.

He ignored you. So you rammed your car into his, causing both of them to break. Ever since, somehow, you’d been inseparable. 

Your parents traveled a lot for work, so instead of constantly going with them, you found yourself staying with the Piastri family for months at a time. Nicole truly felt like your second mom, and Hattie was the sister you never had. And Oscar was…Oscar. It was impossible to describe the bond between you. 

Your parents were never too keen on Oscar, though. They kept it quiet when you were little, but as you grew, their dislike became more outward.

He was 14, leaving for boarding school in the UK. When he told you, you cried. That’s the only time he ever saw you cry.

You wanted to go with him, but your parents couldn’t afford it. He promised he wouldn’t let your friendship die, and he was true to his word. When he got into the higher formulas in racing, he helped you get your job so that you all would never be that far from each other again. 

But your parents always said he was using you, stringing you along, exploiting your labor. Though you’d never admitted it to another soul, they knew you well enough to understand that you loved him. 

You cut your parents off a long time ago. 

Sometimes the fans were worse. Half of them loved you—the half that understood that you could give them access to your idol—but the other half of them called you a beneficiary of nepotism, a gold digger, or a homewrecker. You learned at a young age to develop thick skin. 

And it was how you both behaved on race weekends that really exemplified the difference between you and Lily. 

You liked to be everywhere at once—in the garage trying to interpret the engineers’ technical jargon, in the grandstands taking photos of fans, in the pitlane shooting the shit with the race stewards. You always wore Oscar’s merch, and you wanted to be in the middle of all the action.

Lily, in contrast, was more reserved. She always looked put together, and frankly stunning, at all her appearances. She preferred to watch the race from the comfort and privacy of McLaren hospitality, and when she did interact with fans, she was respectful but short, very conscious of her space.

Neither of you were better or worse than the other. But no one could deny that you were polar opposites. 

You got to Australia before Oscar himself did, having been invited to spend a few days with your surrogate family before you’d have to stay in the hotel, per F1 employee policy. Nicole had told Oscar, who you assumed had told Lily, and when you didn’t hear anything for a few days before you were meant to fly out, you thought everything was fine.

Of course, you thought wrong. 

You spent 3 days with Oscar’s family, relishing the warm feeling of belonging that you’d missed. The Piastri guest room felt more like your own childhood bedroom. Of course, Nicole asked how you’d been, but you were politely distant, wanting to respect the fact that Oscar and Lily’s relationship was none of your business. 

When the pair finally landed in Australia and made their way to Oscar’s childhood home for the night, though, things worsened. 

When Nicole got back from picking them up from the airport, you were in the kitchen prepping dinner. Hearing the front door close, you looked up and smiled, greeting the group.

“YN! What are you doing here?” Lily asked, her voice tentative. 

Nicole answered for you. “Oh, she’s been here since Sunday. I’m so happy to have all my kids under the same roof again,” she joked, turning to Oscar to reach up and pinch his cheeks.

Lily just gave a pained smile. 

You didn’t know what to do. You hadn’t talked to Oscar in nearly a month. You wanted to honor her wishes—but it seemed like her wish was for you to vanish into thin air. 

The rest of the night you were unusually quiet, trying to blend into the background. It wasn’t difficult for Nicole to notice that something was up, but she knew better than to bring it up in front of the whole table. 

After dinner she wanted everyone to gather in the living room and watch a movie, which you quickly bowed out of, complaining of exhaustion. 

As the credits rolled, Nicole leaned over to whisper to Oscar, “Is everything okay with YN?” 

Lily overheard and interjected, “She’s fine.” Nicole raised an eyebrow. 

Oscar responded, “The home grand prix is always busy for her.”

The answer wasn’t sufficient enough to crush Nicole’s suspicions, but she didn’t have any more time to pry as her son and his girlfriend quickly decided to retire for the night themselves. 

The next morning, as everyone was packing to get to the hotel, Nicole decided to ask you herself if everything was okay. But predictably, again, you just said that you were fine. And the morning was so hectic that she didn’t really have the time to interrogate you.

Once you all got settled and to the track for media day, work mode took over, and you forgot all about the tension at the Piastri family home. Though you quite literally were paid to follow Oscar around all day, you felt more like the paparazzi than his friend, hardly ever speaking to him.

And as you went back to the hotel room alone to edit and post for tonight, you felt like a stranger in your own body. 

You didn’t want to do this anymore. You missed your friend, but more importantly, you missed being yourself.

But what were you supposed to do? You loved Oscar. Oscar loved Lily. Lily hated you. 

You were stuck between three impossible choices: stick around and be forced to subdue yourself into a shell of your true personality until Lily decided she wasn’t upset at you anymore, lose everything you’d ever built by quitting and moving away like you knew she wanted, or continue being yourself and possibly cost Oscar the love of his life. 

Yeah, this was a wonderful predicament you found yourself in, through no fault of your own.

You moved like a zombie through the free practices and qualifying. When it was finally time for the grand prix, you assumed your usual place in the McLaren garage, for work if nothing else.

But then, Oscar won. 

No team rules. No convoluted strategies. Just Oscar doing what he did best.

You couldn’t hear your own thoughts over the shout of the garage and the crowd in the distance, cheering out for their hometown hero. You ran out with everyone to the barricades to greet your best friend.

Though he still had his helmet on, you could see the effects of his smile in his squinted eyes. He pumped his fist in the air, cheering to himself before running to the barricades to jump into the waiting arms of the crowd. You cheered with them, overwhelmed with pride. 

Oscar locked eyes with you, cupping your face with his gloved hands and pressing the top of his helmet to your forehead. “I did it, YN!”

“You did!” you yelled, smiling ear to ear. 

Of course, people took photos. Photos that Oscar posted later that night. 

Lily didn’t like it—the sweet intimacy of the moment, front and center on Oscar’s Instagram page. Why would you post that? It was like you were taunting her. 

Lily sat on the edge of the hotel bed while Oscar showered, both of them preparing to meet you, Lando, and a few McLaren team members to celebrate his win. 

When Oscar emerged from the bathroom, Lily asked him, “Osc, can you do me a favor?”

“Hm?” he murmured as he dried his hair. 

“Can you take down that picture that YN posted?”

“YN posted something?” he questioned, grabbing his phone. As his social media manager, you had access to all his accounts, but occasionally he’d post something himself, too. “I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

Lily pursed her lips. “The first picture from the post she made an hour ago.” 

“Oh, this?” Oscar held up his phone. “I posted that.” 

Lily was silent. 

“Why do you want me to delete it? It’s a good photo.” 

Lily just looked at him. Oscar sighed and archived the photo. “There, happy?”

His tone was much harsher than he intended, but to be honest, he was getting tired of the constant fighting, and his patience was wearing thin. 

Lily kept quiet, just silently going into the bathroom to start doing her makeup.

In the lobby of the hotel an hour or so later, you awkwardly stood with Lando waiting for the couple to arrive. Once again you were torn—should you miss out on celebrating with your best friend on his first ever home win, or should you go and strain his relationship further? 

You were just going to say screw it and go back up to your room when you saw Lily and Oscar walking towards you. Though there was no tension between them, there was no love either. They both just looked…tired. 

Everyone had decided to keep it relaxed for tonight, just doing a nice group dinner with Oscar’s family. It was fine, albeit a tad awkward, because you were sitting between Lando and some McLaren employees you didn’t know, at the opposite end of the table from Lily, Oscar, and his family. 

You knew this couldn’t continue forever. Something had to break. And it did, when you and Lando ended up back in Oscar and Lily’s room, drinking your way through a bottle of nice champagne. 

The alcohol seemed to have calmed Lando’s nerves, as he was actually normal with you. And Oscar was a blushy, smiling mess and he and his teammate laughed at something you couldn’t remember. 

You opened your mouth to say something, but the mood was ruined by Lily’s drunken slurring. “Oh my God, YN, just shut up! Go away!” she giggled and grabbed Oscar’s arm. 

Usually, you were calm, letting any infraction roll off of you like waves on the beach. But the alcohol emboldened you. 

“Lily, what the fuck is your problem with me?” you asked.

The mood shifted, and Lily gave you a look of disgust. “I was just joking, God.”

“No you weren’t.” 

Lando chimed in. “Well, I think I gotta call it a night.” He got up and patted Oscar on the back. The two men stood up to walk out, leaving just you and Lily alone in the hotel room. 

“I don’t know what the fuck your problem is with me, but don’t act like there isn’t one. It’s obvious that you don’t want me around, I don’t know what I ever did to you.”

Lily had clearly been sobered up by your seriousness. Still, she burst into tears. 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 

You sighed, unable to keep your anger in the face of her cries. She continued, “I just… Oscar and I were each other’s first everything. First love, first kiss…first time. I love him so much.”

“I’m not trying to steal him from you.” 

Lily was quiet, and so were you. Something she had said gave you pause. 

They were each other’s first everything—no, that couldn’t be true. 

Because you were Oscar’s first. 

It had been many years—you were both 18—and you had never spoken about what happened. But you remembered. 

He came back home for Christmas from the UK. It was before he had even met Lily. 

You welcomed him home with an embrace—even with the frequent phone calls you had, you couldn’t help but miss your best friend, now here before you, in the flesh.

Neither of you could sleep that night, and somehow you both found yourself in Oscar’s childhood bedroom, quiet in the early hours of the morning.

Though it was warm outside, Nicole had a habit of keeping the house frigid, so you and Oscar huddled together under the handmade quilt that decorated his bed. The moment was tender and quiet, together in the soft darkness. 

“Do you like it in the UK?” you asked him, your question searching for a genuine answer. 

“It’s okay, I guess. It’s what I have to do for the races.”

“But do you ever get…lonely?”

He paused. “Yeah. Sometimes.”

You traced small circles on the skin of your leg. The closeness of the moment was uncomfortable. 

“But you have friends, right?”

“Yeah, but they’re not, y’know, friends for life.”

“I get you.” You really did, not having many friends of your own since Oscar left. “But you must have a ton of girls, though. They all want the cool race car driver.” You smiled, trying to use your humor to lighten the intimacy of the moment. 

“No,” was all he answered. “And if I had a girlfriend, you’d be the first to know, anyway.” In the dark of the room, you could only see the outline of his features, but you could feel the pull of his eyes looking at you. “What, do you have a boyfriend? Is that why you’re bringing this up?” he asked. 

“Of course I don’t.” 

“What do you mean, of course?”

“I mean, why would I have a boyfriend? I have no friends and half the people at school think you don’t even exist.”

“What?” he laughed.

“Well, yeah, when I say my best friend drives race cars in the UK, most people think I’m making you up.” 

“Shit,” he laughed. 

“So, yeah, it doesn’t exactly get me dates,” you laughed. You felt your throat stiffen. “I haven’t even had my first kiss or anything.”

The silence in the room was thick. “I haven’t either,” Oscar confessed. 

You found it hard to believe. Oscar was handsome, funny, everything a girl could want. Neither of you had ever been social butterflies, though. 

Under the blanket, Oscar reached for your hand, placing it in his. Your heart was beating out of your chest; you had never even held a boy’s hand. 

“We could just…do it now,” he said. “Just to get it over with.” He feigned his usual nonchalance, but you could feel the increase of his heartbeat and the ever so subtle tremble in his voice. 

It would be easy for you to laugh it off like a joke. But you knew it wasn’t. And you wanted him. 

“Okay,” you said, your voice breathy with nervousness. 

You sat up on the bed, and saw the dark outline of his figure leaning towards you, gently tilting your head. 

And when his lips met yours, it felt like home. Like everything in your entire life had left you up to this moment, here in the warmth of your best friend’s childhood bedroom.

The kiss lasted longer than you anticipated, but when he did pull away, it was too soon. You were grateful for the darkness that hid your expression. But even without the light, Oscar could see the truth behind your eyes.

“We could…keep going.”

“Okay,” you repeated. 

One of his hands found your waist now, pulling you closer, as his other hand pushed back your hair that had fallen in your face.

Once again his lips met yours. It wasn’t like a spark within you—more like a calming, a sense of peace and safety. Of all the boys you’d crushed on before, Oscar was different. You trusted him with everything. 

And you showed him so. 

He slipped his tongue past your teeth, tentative, as if he was scared to do the wrong thing. But you let him close the gap, your own tongue gliding along his, goosebumps going down your back the closer you got. 

He wanted to put his hands all over you, but he was nervous.

He pulled away. “I…don’t really know what I’m doing.”

“I don’t either. Is it actually your first time?”

“Yeah. You don’t mind me being your first?”

“I trust you.”

So you both took it slow, taking each other’s hands where you wanted to be touched, not focusing on anything but the other. 

The love you made was quiet and simple, beautiful yet imperfect. But you didn’t need perfect. You just needed him. 

The next morning, you slipped out of his room before anyone was awake, afraid of what would happen if they found out.

But no one ever did. Oscar never said a word about it ever again, and neither did you; after the holidays, he went back to school and met Lily, and the rest was history. 

But you remembered. And as you sat in that hotel room years later waiting for him, you felt numb. 

By the time he got back Lily had calmed down, but you couldn’t stand to be there anymore. You announced your departure, but Oscar decided to walk you out, too. 

You closed the door behind you, but Oscar pulled you to not leave so quickly. 

“Hey, is everything alright with you and Lily?”

“No. It’s not.” 

He sighed. “I don’t know why she’s being like this.”

You just stared at him, your face blank. 

“What,” he asked, “don’t tell me you’re mad too.”

“Was Lily your first?”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” 

Oscar looked over his shoulder. “I’d really rather not talk about this in the hallway…”

“So do you want to go in the room and talk about it? In front of her? Because you lied to one of us. Which one was it?”

“YN, it’s—”

“Which one of us did you lie to, Oscar?”

He let out a sharp exhale, knowing there was no way to escape your line of questioning. He leaned down to whisper to you. “I didn’t lie to her. She just…assumed, and I never corrected her.”

“That’s still lying.”

“You really think I should go in there and tell her the truth?” His voice dripped with frustration.

“Yes. She deserves to know.”

“You know why I never told her? Because I knew this shit would happen, she’d get jealous and try to push you out of my life. If I tell her now, she’ll make me choose between the two of you.”

“Do you blame her?” you asked, astounded at how Oscar could be so clueless.

“Seriously?” he retorted. “You think she’s justified in doing all this to you? The entire reason she’s mad is because she knows if she tries to make me choose, I’m not choosing her.”

“Don’t say that! Oscar, she’s your girlfriend. You should love her.”

“I do. But things just…aren’t the same anymore. It’s like she wants me to change my whole life for her. I can’t do that.”

Unbeknownst to you, Lily got up from the bed and walked to the door, pressing her ear to it, where she could faintly hear you and Oscar arguing. 

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Oscar continued. “And if you don’t want her to split us up, just let me handle it.”

“Oscar, she deserves better than this. I’ve missed spending time with you, but… you’ve got to tell her the truth.”

Lily opened the door. “I knew it,” she said, her eyes full of tears. “I knew you were cheating.”

Your eyes were wide as dinner plates as Oscar cursed to himself. “Lily, I swear to God that is not what happened—”

“Don’t. Don’t even try,” she said, but Oscar pushed his way back into the room anyway. He looked back to you, and even without words, you knew it was time to go. You needed some sleep.

Unfortunately, Oscar would not be getting any sleep tonight. 

“Oscar, just stop lying to me! I’m tired of this!’ Lily cried, curling her legs to her chest as she sat on the bed.

“Lily, I swear, I have never cheated on you. What YN and I were talking about was something from a long time ago.”

“We’ve been together for five years!”

“Can I just explain myself? Please?”

Lily just broke down in sobs. “Do whatever. I don’t care anymore.”

Oscar sighed. “Look, I…I have lied to you. You weren’t my first. YN was.” He looked at his girlfriend, who was still just silently crying. “It was before we even met, and it was just once, and we’ve never done anything since. I would never cheat on you, I love you and—”

“When and where was it?” Lily asked, cutting him off with her statement more like a command than a question.

“The December before we met, when I came home for Christmas.”

“In your bed?”

He nodded.

“Oscar, I slept in that bed next to you the other night.”

He said nothing. 

“Why are you doing this to me?” she asked, her voice cracking. “Haven’t I been good to you?”

“Lily, I promise, I love you more than anything.”

“Then why would you lie to me for five years?”

Oscar took a deep breath and said, “Because I was afraid you would be upset. People don’t understand that me and YN are just friends. I mean, we were raised together, she’s like my sister.”

“You had sex with her. You took each other’s virginity.”

“It wasn’t…like that.”

“How can it not be like that? Do you even hear what you’re saying?” 

“I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say.”

About an hour after you left, you heard a knock on your hotel room door, and you answered. It was, of course, Lily. 

“Tell me whatever Oscar wouldn’t,” she said. Her eyes were still puffy and red. 

You welcomed her in, beginning to tell her the entire truth. “Oscar and I had sex when we were 18, before he met you. We never talked about it afterwards. After you met I didn’t want to bring it up, I just assumed he’d do the right thing and tell you. I didn’t want to pry into your relationship.”

So, your stories matched. And Lily knew that you were nothing if not honest. 

“Do you love him?”

“Of course I do, he’s my best friend.”

“No, I mean, are you in love with him?” 

You didn’t answer immediately. What were you supposed to say?

Tears fought their way to the corners of your eyes, but you blinked them away. “I don’t know,” you began, but that was a lie, you did know. “I guess…I have a special type of love for him. We grew up together. When we were younger, yes, I wanted to be his girlfriend. But then he met you, and… Lily, he was so happy! I just…I realized that I wanted him to be happy more than I wanted him to be mine. So I made peace with the fact that this is how it had to be.”

Lily was overwhelmed with your honesty, in the face of so much deception. 

You continued, “I don’t blame you for being upset at me. Oscar should have been honest about what our friendship was like from the very beginning instead of lying to you. But I swear, we haven’t done anything while you all have been together. I’ve been cheated on and I know how much that hurts, I would never do that to anyone else. I’m so sorry it ended up like this.”

“No,” Lily said, “You’re the only one who’s been honest with me throughout all of this. Thank you.”

After that, you hadn’t heard from Oscar after that for a long time. Or, at least, a few weeks felt like a long time to you. But you had other pressing matters—your workload was through the roof with Oscar’s wins. Lando had snatched himself a win too, setting up an early battle for the championship. It was too early into the season to call it, but you knew Oscar was feeling the pressure with the possibility of his first championship dangling so close in front of him. So you kept your distance, not wanting to be a distraction.

That was, until he called you, saying just those three painful words.

“Lily left me.”

The sun was cresting over the horizon, illuminating the thick glass of your balcony and flooding light into your living room. You hadn’t gotten an ounce of rest. 

From your bedroom, you could hear Oscar snoring. You just let him sleep. 

God knows you both needed it. 

the one where Y/n and Charles had different priorities

this is maybe a bit chaotic because I had one idea and unclear vision, but I like how it turned out eventually

view all comments

username1 How do you know? HOW DO YOU KNOW?!

username2 They have WHAT

username3 nah I don't believe in love anymore

username4 But they were together since even before Charles was in formula 1🥺

↳username2 Right? I thought they'll be together forever

username5 And there goes my hope for them to announce an engagement soon

↳username6 Sameeee except I thought someday they'll just have a secret wedding and not tell the media until weeks/months after

username5 Ngl that sounds like a them thing to do

username6 Well, not anymore

username7 My only question is why? 😭

↳username1 Literally because they seemed like a perfect couple. What could go wrong?

username8 Shit, that hurts more than my parents' divorce

username9 THEY BROKE UP AFTER 8 YEARS??

↳username10 what 😳

username9 They were together since 2016, I remember Charles saying this in some interview

username6 Yup that's right, he mentioned it many times, he was so in love with Y/n. I swear even recently he said after so many years he still falls in love more and more each day

username9 She was there for him when his dad passed, when Charles joined F1, when he signed up with Ferrari, when he won his first F1 race, I wonder what happened that made them break up so suddenly

username10 Oh so she was there for basically a huge part of his life

username5 I remember when Charles said "she's not a part of my life. She IS my life" about Y/n😭my standards for men have been high up in space ever since

username11 Wow just like Sainz broke up with his long term girlfriend last season. Let's just hope Leclerc won't pop up with a new girl weeks after that

↳username12 Charles and Y/n could be broken up for a long time now, we can only speculate when they broke up

username5 Imagine if Charles posted the Vegas vlog after their breakup 🥹 I'm not okay

username12 That was so unnecessary to say, I'm crying now

yourusername One for the money, two for the show, I never was ready so I watch you go

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username1 The caption guys...

↳username2 Does that mean what I think it means?

username3 What do you think it means?

username2 "I never was ready" he wanted to take things to the next level, but she didn't. "So I watch you go" means she had to let him go because they didn't want the same thing

username3 How could she not be ready after whole 8 years?

username2 Every person matures in their own time and that's okay, they'll both find someone else

username4 That's a Swiftie going through a breakup

username5 Noooo it's confirmed now 😭 as long as neither of them confirmed it I could stay delulu and think the rumours are just rumours

oldersister Thank you for babysitting Snow White 🐈‍⬛ (I wish there was a white cat emoji)

↳yourusername It was my pleasure! She's an angel (and a professional model)

oldersister Feel free to come over anytime you want, Snow White loves her aunt 🤍

youngersister HEY how dare you steal Y/n like that!! I wanted to take her out for milkshakes sometime

oldersister Chill, you can do that whenever you want I'm not stealing anyone

yourusername I'd love to go out for milkshakes!!

lilymhe No more Y/nLily in the paddock?

↳yourusername The paddock isn't the only place where we can hang out 😂

landonorris what are you up to on the 2nd pic? 🤨📸

↳username2 LANDO, DON'T

↳username4 LANDO IT'S TOO EARLY

↳username1 DONT RUIN OUR CHANCES TO HAVE Y/NCHARLES BACK

↳username1 Fuckboy Lando been doing too much fuckboying lately

username6 Didn't know she's a smoker

↳username7 Yeah, she was very secretive about it

username2 It's not like she was hiding it from y'all

username7 She was, probably because she would be canceled for being a wag who smokes cigarettes

username2 A grown woman can do what she wants

username6 It's better that they broke up, way healthier for Charles to not be around a smoker

username2 Wtf she was with him through bad and good times, supporting him no matter what, loving him, making beautiful memories together and you say it's good that they broke up because she smokes?

username4 May I add we never saw her smoking throughout the 8 years, she probably started after the breakup

username5 after the breakup or BECAUSE of the breakup?

charles_leclerc Leaving Bahrain with a good result despite some difficulties. Pretty good weekend if you ignore the braking problem, now onto Jeddah next 🏎

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username1 brAking problem or brEAking problem?

username2 How is that the start of the season and there's already something wrong with his car?

yourusername Congratulations on finishing P4🏁given the issues your car had, you did a spectacular job

↳charles_leclerc Thank you 😇 I tried my best, but felt like something is missing

yourusername I'm sorry :(

↳username3 WHAT IS Y/N DOING HERE? ARE THEY BACK TOGETHER?

username4 I wish I could believe they are, but I guess some people break up on good terms

username3 How could anyone end a 8yrs old relationship and be friends? 😭

↳username5 Jail for miss Y/n for leading fans on

username6 He looked so sad the whole time, during interviews and all that 😔

↳username7 Yeah he's either done with the car already or he misses Y/n that much

username8 DID Y'ALL SEE THAT ONE INTERVIEW WHERE HE GOT ASKED ABOUT Y/N NOT BEING IN BAHRAIN??

↳username6 WHAT INTERVIEW??

username8 A lady asked him why Y/n isn't here because she never missed the first race of the season before so it's surprising. He officially said that over the winter break they've decided to part ways due to focusing on different aspects of life🥲

username9 How do you figure something like this out after 8 fucking years? They wasted each other's time

username7 Calm down lol they grew and matured with each other, experienced how their love evolved throughout the years, no time you put into this is a wasted time

username10 I need to know what are the aspects of life they focus on and if they really are that different

↳username11 From what I figured from Y/n's post and Charles' interview - he wanted to get married, maybe even start a family and she wasn't ready

username10 Ahhh I remember how a few years ago Charles said he wants to have three kids. Such a shame Y/n doesn't want the same thing, but it's understandable they figured it now. They were kids themselves when they started dating lol

username11 Not really, they were both over 18 years old

username10 I know, but still that's a pretty young age and you might not know yet what do you really want in life

username12 Plus your brain develops until you're 25, they both turn 27 this year so it explains a lot

username13 I'm telling you, there would be no problems if Y/n was there, @/yourusername get your lazy ass on a plane to Jeddah

oldersister Amazing performance this weekend👏

youngersister Goodluck for Jeddah 🍀

username14 The way Y/n AND her sisters still interact with Charles on social media...

↳username15 Yeah like are they actually broken up??

3 weeks later

yourusername You'd be surprised if I told you why kangaroos are called kangaroos

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username1 What is miss doing in Australia during the race week?

oldersister I told you this story is fake 🙄

↳yourusername But it's funny so I'm gonna believe it

oldersister Kangaroo DOESN'T mean "I don't know" jesus christ

username2 I thought it does 😭

username3 Too much Tiktok I guess lmao

youngersister Glad I could have milkshakes with you in Australia 😌

↳yourusername Back at you although that was a strange excuse to go to Australia in the first place

youngersister It's just not the same in Europe

arthur_leclerc Y/n in her natural habitat🦘

↳yourusername I swear I was a kangaroo in a past life

↳username4 What is going on? Y/n and Charles broke up but they keep interacting with each other and each other's families

username5 I NEED to know which city it is

username6 Is that true all announcements on public transport are made with Oscar Piastri's voice??

↳yourusername Yup, I wonder how much convincing it took to get Oscar to do the voiceover

landonorris not a lot to be honest

username5 AHA so she is in Melbourne! Also, what are you doing here Lando?

landonorris do you wanna hear another aussie fun fact?

↳yourusername I'm scared but yes (as long as it's not about thongs)

landonorris do you know what an australian kiss is?

yourusername @/oscarpiastri please put Lando back in his cage

username7 HELP I'M GASPING FOR AIR, LANDO ALWAYS TAKES THE CHANCE TO SHOOT HIS SHOT

username8 Not gonna lie it pisses me off how Lando tries to "flirt" with Y/n in her comments

↳username2 Me too, it's not ethical

username9 I'm afraid Lando doesn't care lol and I don't think Y/n would ever consider going out with another driver considering Charles and her broke up on good terms

username10 I'm just wondering if norris ever tried funny business back when Y/n would come to races

↳username11 prolly not but hey now he's free to do it

username5 Just because he's free to do it doesn't mean he should do it

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username2 OH 😃

username3 So that's what she's doing in Australia

username4 Wait why is Jacob Elordi in Australia?

↳username2 Well, Jacob is Australian, why wouldn't he be there?

username4 HE'S AUSTRALIAN?!

username5 One thing Charles can't beat is the height 😩

↳username6 Is it worth it tho? Jacob treated his exes pretty badly, he's a cheater

username5 And? People change

username6 Bro, he cheated on Zendaya

username5 Chill out, maybe Y/n isn't even on a date with him, maybe they're just hanging out

username7 If I were Y/n I would enter my hoe phase now and Jacob is a good choice to start with

username8 THIS CAN'T BE TRUE

username9 Charles where are you? 😭 Y/n is a sweetheart, she shouldn't be with Jacob

username10 Sometimes I regret opening this app

username11 Didn't Jacob attend a few races? Is that were he met Y/n?

↳username12 Keep saying things like this and watch gossip unfold about how Y/n was waiting to leave Charles for Jacob

username13 Miss girl did a downgrade

↳username14 Is it a downgrade though if he's that tall?

username13 He can be as tall as he wants, but Charles was Y/n's soulmate and I'll always stand by that

username9 Plus the height doesn't make up for the personality

username14 What personality? 💀 Girl you don't even know him

username9 Someone who cheats on their partner clearly isn't a very pleasant person to date

username5 CALM DOWN GUYS we can't be sure they were on a date, it could be just two friends catching up

username9 what friends? I've never even seen them talk before and there were opportunities

yourusername Don't panic guys, I've been spending most of the time with @/youngersister and her aussie friends

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youngersister Yeah, I clearly didn't set you up for a date with a certain actor...

↳username1 SHE SET Y/N UP WITH HIM?!

username2 Evil mastermind

username3 How did that even happen lmao

↳yourusername Thankfully it didn't go as good as you'd wish it would 😌

youngersister No worries, I have other options up my sleeve

yourusername Keep them up there 🤺

↳username4 I'm confused is [younger sisters name] team Charles or not?

username5 She's just a menace it seems

username6 What's up with Y/n? She didn't wanna be with Charles, but she doesn't wanna move on. That's not normal

youngersister Don't make me set you up with Lando

↳yourusername You'd never, I know you think he's annoying

youngersister Yeah, but he gives me that vibe of a guy who can make you forget about your ex

yourusername That's called a fuckboy

youngersister You deserve a bit of fun don't you 🥳 I'm not saying you have to go straight back to being in a relationship

yourusername NO THANK YOU

username5 Lmao I love how they're having this convo here instead of on dms

username6 OR FACE TO FACE??

username7 Why does Y/n's lil sis support the idea of Y/n having a hoe phase? 😭

landonorris I was hoping you'd come see the race;)

↳yourusername Better luck next time I guess :)

a few months later

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username1 YEAH I WAS LIKE WHAT THE HELL???

username3 I can't defend Charles anymore

username4 Apparently her name is Angeliqué and she's a daughter of some French entrepreneur (a/n: I made her up)

username5 I didn't want Charles to move on, I wanted him to be back with Y/n 😭

↳username6 Worse thing is, Charles moved on but Y/n didn't. She went on this weird staged date with Jacob Elordi a few months ago and that's it

username7 NOOO 😭😭

username8 Charles better say sike now 🔫

username9 Please tell me it's a joke

username10 It truly feels like some part of me being torn apart knowing that Y/n and Charles broke up for good and he moved on

username11 Do we really know nothing about what's going on with Y/n? She must feel terrible now, I'm sure she saw that Angeliqué girl on TV

↳username9 What makes you think she would still watch races?

username11 It seemed like her and Charles are on friendly terms, so why wouldn't she still watch his races?

↳username12 She hasn't posted anything since Australia, went hella private, she ISN'T okay, I think she even stopped hanging out with Lily M

username13 I did some more research and that Angeliqué girl is 20 years old

↳username12 So we're supposed to believe that Y/n who is Charles' age wasn't ready to start a family, but a 20 year old Charles met weeks ago is? Charles, explain yourself

username9 Honestly the new girl seems just like a distraction from Y/n or a PR relationship

username12 You might be right, maybe Charles can't forget about Y/n so he went with "wanna get over, get under someone new"

username14 Nahhhh cuz she was all over Charles whenever she could and he looked so done 💀 that's definitely a stunt

↳username1 Literally, she was always hugging him, touching, holding hands, she barely let him interact with fans, Y/n was so much better AND she always respected Charles' fans

username15 imagine not being able to move on for MONTHS so your pr team finds you a fake gf

yourusername Excuse the inactivity, I've been watching Gilmore Girls

view all comments

username1 Very understandable in this case

username2 Our Rory Gilmore finally watching the og Rory Gilmore 🙏

oldersister I'm afraid Snow White might like you more than she likes me 😂

↳yourusername I'm the cool aunt 🤭

youngersister Excuse me???

yourusername I said what I said

youngersister And I don't agree with what you said

yourusername Would you watch Gilmore Girls with Snow White? Nope. I do. So I win the cool aunt competition

username3 Guys... When did Charles unfollow Y/n?

↳username2 He unfollowed?

username3 Yeah... He didn't comment nor even like, so I went to check and he doesn't follow Y/n anymore but she still follows him

username2 Ouch that hurts

username4 I don't care that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, what counts is that she is happy 😊 look at the last pic, she's so adorable with Snow White

↳username5 True, she looks happy and healthy while Charles is out there having to put up with a fake girlfriend

username6 What's funny is that Charles doesn't follow Y/n anymore, but both his brothers and majority of F1 drivers do

↳username7 including the ones who followed her after the breakup 😏

username8 Don't try to make up new rumours, Y/n is single and happy

username9 Not to be mean but... It says something about Charles that he had to unfollow

↳username6 He either thought it'll help him forget or the new girlfriend made him unfollow

username9 Either way it tells us he's still thinking about Y/n

landonorris been a while since I last saw you

↳yourusername Let's see how long we can keep the streak up

username6 SLAAAAAY QUEEN

username10 I'll never be over the Y/nCharles breakup, I'm still going through it months after

↳username11 That's okay because so is Charles

username12 Tbh in Y/n's place I would just take the chance and go for Lando, just to prove that Charles' PR relationship is in vain

↳username2 That's not something Y/n would do, but if she ever did that I would support her

Username13 dating men is so much stress, why bother while you can sit at home with a cat watching Gilmore Girls instead?

ʚིᵋ ⋆ NANA TOUR ࣪ ! ˓ ౨ৎ ࣪˖ ─── episode 1-2.

Nana Tour with SEVENTEEN

synopsis: Episode 1-2! Off to Italy. Get on the plane, into the rhythm. Here they go, Italy! SEVENTEEN is beyond excited for the vacation that they simply couldn’t control themselves at the airport and on the plane.

SURPRISE!!! i know i said i will be focusing on publishing all the one-shots in my drafts before i continue my other series’ but i simply couldn’t help myself!! it’s been a month since i started nana tour and i know you guys have been waiting and are excited for more so… here it’s is!! episode 1-2 is relatively shorter so i will be adding additional scenes (this will be the norm for shorter episodes), so send me ideas you potentially want to add and see that weren’t in the final episodes!! enjoy and happy reading, my loves 🤍💙

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST

╰ ౨ৎ fan reactions ╰ ౨ৎ nana tour masterlist

[added captions are in brackets] ღ

bold dialogues are spoken in english ღ

The members began climbing into the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp evening air. The vehicle’s interior buzzed with energy as they settled in, each of them moving toward the back section where the seats surrounded two small tables. Despite the chaotic shuffling, the laughter and teasing were lighthearted as they began claiming their spots.

[Party bus for SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan entered just behind Joshua, glancing at the seating arrangement. Woozi had taken a seat facing the table directly, but Jeonghan raised his voice over the noise. “Woozi, scoot over one seat, please,” he said gently but with purpose, pointing to the side. “Jiyeonie’s going to get car sick if she doesn’t face forward.”

Woozi blinked up at him but complied, shifting over without much protest. “Okay, okay,” he muttered as he slid across the seat.

“What’s going on?” Dokyeom asked, amused as he plopped down next to Jun.

“Jeonghan’s setting up the seating plan,” Vernon teased as he leaned back in his chair. “Vice leader vibes.”

[Jeonghan: Vice Leader of SEVENTEEN]

Jeonghan simply hummed, turning back toward the bus door as the rest of the members shuffled and rearranged their spots. Once everything was more or less settled, their attention turned to the two figures still lingering outside the bus— Luna and Seungcheol.

Luna stood hesitantly, clutching her red bunny plushie, Cherry, tightly in her arms as she looked up at Seungcheol. Her expression wavered between reluctance and disappointment, her brows slightly furrowed. After a hesitant farewell to Seungcheol, who gently encouraged her to board, Luna finally nodded. She climbed onto the bus, her plushie tucked protectively against her chest.

[Bunny Luna with bunny Cherry a.k.a bunny S.Coups]

As soon as she stepped inside, the back section went quiet for a moment as everyone turned to her, amusement flickering in their eyes. Her slightly pouty lips and furrowed brows made her emotions clear— she didn’t like it when their group wasn’t complete.

“She’s disappointed,” Joshua cooed, a teasing smile on his face.

The rest of the members nodded knowingly, their chuckles soft as they watched her.

Luna stopped by the aisle, looking at the seats. “Where do I sit?” she asked, her voice small but curious.

Jeonghan, already prepared, pointed to the empty seat between Mingyu and Minghao. “Over there, Nana-ya,” he said softly, motioning toward the forward-facing seat. “You’ll feel better sitting in that direction. Go on.”

Luna nodded, shuffling down the narrow aisle and stopping by the designated seat. Minghao and Mingyu shifted slightly, making space for her to slide in. Carefully, she maneuvered between their legs before slumping down into the seat, letting out a small huff as she adjusted Cherry on her lap.

“Aigo… I’m tired already,” she murmured, brushing a few stray strands of hair from her face. Without hesitation, she leaned her head on Minghao’s shoulder, her breath light and warm as she rested.

Minghao chuckled, tilting his head slightly to accommodate her. “You barely got on, Jiyeonie.”

[Low power]

The others laughed softly at her antics, their chatter resuming as they prepared for the trip ahead.

Hoshi, seated by the window, suddenly perked up and moved the curtain aside. “Guys, our CEO is outside,” he announced, his tone half-surprised, half-amused.

Everyone turned their attention to the window, peering out to see their CEO standing there, waving enthusiastically at them.

“We’ll be back safely!” Dokyeom called out, his voice cheerful.

Meanwhile, Mingyu, Luna, and Minghao giggled as they watched their CEO repeatedly bow and apologize to Minghao by the window.

“The8, I love you,” their CEO said earnestly, earning a soft chuckle from Minghao.

“Okay,” Minghao replied, calm as ever.

“I’m really sorry,” their CEO continued apologizing, he repeated again as if to plead.

[Apologizes for the lies]

“No, no, no,” Minghao reassured him, raising a hand. “Schedule it for me later.”

Mingyu burst into laughter at Minghao’s deadpan tone, and even Luna, her head still on Minghao’s shoulder, giggled softly. “Hao, you’re funny,” she said, her voice warm with affection.

“He asked them to schedule it later,” Mingyu repeated, still laughing as he told the others.

The bus erupted into laughter, the mood light and lively as they watched the scene unfold outside.

“The staff are apologizing to Minghao,” Woozi noted dryly, shaking his head slightly in amusement.

“Goodbye!” a familiar voice called out from outside. It was Seungcheol, standing a little behind their CEO, his hand raised in a wave.

“Aigo… Cheollie… bye-bye,” Luna said, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness as she waved back at him through the window.

[Leaving S.Coups makes Luna sad]

“Okay! We’ll be back!” Hoshi told Seungcheol, grinning brightly.

As the bus engine roared to life and began moving, Luna turned back to the window. She caught sight of Seungcheol still standing there, his hands moving deliberately as if he were writing something in the air.

[?]

“What?” Luna mouthed, furrowing her brows in confusion.

Seungcheol repeated the gesture, his lips forming the words “My letter.”

Luna blinked, still unsure of what he meant but nodding anyway. “My letter,” she read his lips again, her brows knitting slightly as she gave him one final wave.

[What could it be?]

The bus pulled away, leaving him behind as they set off on their journey.

The bus hummed softly as it cruised along the highway, carrying the members of SEVENTEEN toward the airport. The early morning light filtered through the windows, casting a golden glow over the group. Most of them were still waking up from the rush of getting on the bus, their chatter muted and interspersed with soft yawns and quiet laughter. The absence of Seungcheol lingered in the air, but the members tried to lift the mood with their usual antics.

“Wow, we are really going on a trip to Rome for a week?” Jeonghan asked, his voice carrying a touch of lazy amusement, though the glimmer of excitement in his eyes betrayed him. He leaned back in his seat, head resting against the window as he gazed out at the moving scenery.

“It’s awesome,” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm evident. His eyes darted around the bus, taking in the crew members and his fellow teammates.

“This is a memory. Should we take a picture?” Dino asked suddenly, leaning forward in his seat as the idea struck him. His smile was bright, filled with the kind of energy that was contagious even in the subdued atmosphere. He pulled out his phone and waved it in the air before handing it to Seungkwan.

Hoshi accepted the phone, turning it around to position it for a selfie. He extended his arm out as far as it could go, adjusting the angle to fit everyone in the frame. “Alright, get ready. One, two, three…”

The camera shutter clicked as they smiled, each of them wearing expressions ranging from bright grins to subtle smirks. Hoshi glanced down at the phone, grinning. “One more! One, two, three…”

This time, their expressions and poses shifted—peace signs, exaggerated pouts, and playful winks. Another click echoed through the bus.

“One more, one more!” Hoshi said, his enthusiasm sparking laughter from the group. They leaned into each other, pulling faces and throwing up random gestures. “One, two, three…” The final shutter sound snapped through the air, marking the end of their mini photo session.

From the front of the bus, one of PD Na’s producers chuckled softly, catching the group’s antics as they reviewed their pictures. “Your poses are just an automatic reflex,” the producer remarked, his tone light and amused. The rest of the crew watched the scene unfold with smiles, their cameras capturing candid moments of SEVENTEEN’s camaraderie.

[Idol reflexes]

As the laughter settled, PD Na’s voice broke through the hum of the bus. “Customers, you guys all got on, right?” His tone mimicked that of a professional tour guide, filled with exaggerated formality.

“Yes!” came the resounding chorus of responses from the members, their enthusiasm almost synchronized.

“Thank you so much for using ‘NANA TOUR,’” PD Na continued, his delivery earning a round of applause from the group.

“Thank you so much,” he repeated, pausing briefly before launching into the next part of his announcement. “Once we get to Italy, we have some pocket money that we are going to use. Everything is included once you get there, so you don’t really need pocket money…” His words trailed off, his tone hinting at something left unsaid.

Luna, seated comfortably beside Minghao with her head resting on his shoulder, let out a soft giggle. She absently fiddled with Cherry the bunny that sat on her lap, its soft plush fur comforting under her fingers. Her giggle drew Minghao’s attention, and he glanced down at her with a curious smile.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

She tilted her head slightly, her smile widening. “I just know he is going to make us play for money at some point.” she whispered back, her amusement clear.

[Maybe…]

PD Na, oblivious to her quiet commentary, continued speaking. “Still… you personally might need money you need to spend— a small amount of pocket money will be given.” His voice carried through the bus, commanding the attention of the members.

“100 euros per person for pocket money. We prepared 1,400 euros for now. That’s roughly around 1.5 million won,” he explained, his words met with nods from the group.

The hum of the bus persisted as PD Na’s voice cut through the light chatter. With the members’ attention drawn toward him, he continued with his usual composed yet playful demeanor.

“If you pick the person you trust the most as the manager, we will give that person the money,” PD Na announced.

The group fell into a brief silence, exchanging looks as they deliberated. Hoshi was the first to break the silence, leaning slightly forward with a grin.

“Dino is the manager,” Hoshi declared confidently, his tone leaving no room for debate.

“Yes,” Woozi agreed almost immediately, his calm and concise tone adding a layer of finality to Hoshi’s statement.

Luna, who was still comfortably nestled against Minghao’s shoulder, simply nodded, her agreement clear.

Dino sat up straighter in his seat before nodding in agreement. “Between our parents… that… out of the managers… parents… my parents do it.”

[???]

The bus fell silent again, but this time it was filled with confusion. Dino’s words hung in the air like a puzzle no one could quite piece together. His stammered explanation hinted he might still be half-asleep— or perhaps still a little tipsy— left both the crew and PD Na blinking in bewilderment.

PD Na, ever the professional, attempted to process the nonsensical statement. But the confusion quickly gave way to laughter as the realization set in that there was no understanding what Dino had just said. PD Na chuckled, his shoulders shaking lightly as he tried to decipher the jumbled words.

Luna, however, was quicker to react. She shifted, lifting her head from Minghao’s shoulder and straightening her posture. With an expression as deadpan as ever, she turned toward Dino. “Wah… I wanna see what you just said written on paper.”

Her sudden retort was met with immediate laughter. PD Na let out a loud, hearty laugh, leaning back in his seat as the absurdity of the situation hit him all over again. The crew joined in, their chuckles mingling with the laughter of the members, who had now all turned to look at Luna.

“Channie… you made no sense whatsoever. Are you okay? Are you still drunk?” Luna continued, her tone calm but laced with a teasing edge as her lips curled into a small smirk. The members doubled over in laughter at her casual jabs, and even Dino couldn’t help but laugh at himself.

[Effects of drunk freestyle rapping whilst sleep deprived]

Still grinning, Luna reached over and lightly pressed her palm against Dino’s forehead as if to check his temperature. Dino, too busy laughing at his own slip-up, didn’t even react to the gesture.

“Our parents’ meeting manager are Dino’s parents,” Wonwoo suddenly clarified, his tone dry but helpful. His calm explanation cut through the lingering laughter, drawing a series of “Ahh’s” from PD Na and the crew.

“Why does it still sound so confusing? Is it because it’s early in the morning?” Luna furrowed her brows in mock frustration, her thoughtful expression earning another round of chuckles from those around her. Determined to simplify things, she leaned forward slightly, addressing PD Na as though she were explaining a complicated concept to a child.

“All you have to know is that whenever our parents have a meeting, Dino’s parents manage it,” she explained slowly, her tone laced with humor and exaggerated patience.

[Got it]

The crew erupted into laughter at her delivery, and PD Na couldn’t hold back another chuckle as he shook his head. Even some of the members, who were used to Luna’s dry wit, found themselves laughing all over again.

“Noona…” Seungkwan muttered between laughs, reaching over to lightly slap her shoulder. Luna giggled at his playful reprimand, the sound light and carefree.

“Good job,” Jeonghan said gently, his soft voice carrying over the laughter. His expression was calm, but the amused sparkle in his eyes revealed how much he enjoyed Luna’s antics.

“Alright. Thank you, Luna,” PD Na said, finally composing himself as he turned back toward Dino. He motioned toward the youngest with a smile. “Then, our youngest Dino…”

“Should we have our youngest do it?” Woozi interjected, seamlessly finishing PD Na’s thought.

“We will have him be the manager… okay then,” PD Na finalized with a nod, the decision now official.

“I will cherish it carefully,” Dino said, his tone serious as he reassured the group.

PD Na retrieved a pouch that contained the money and handed it over to Hoshi, who was still sitting at the end seat of the row. Hoshi took it with both hands, inspecting it briefly before passing it down the line. The pouch made its way from member to member until it finally reached Dino, who accepted it with a wide grin. He adjusted the strap and wore it around his neck like a sling bag, the pouch now resting securely at his side.

“It’s a million won per person, and we just added S.Coups’,” PD Na explained, his tone clear and steady.

“Thank you,” the members chorused in unison, their voices blending together.

“You can think of it as S.Coups giving you the million won,” PD Na added with a small smile.

“Okay,” Woozi responded succinctly, his calm tone bringing the moment to a close.

“Second thing is that there’s a schedule,” PD Na announced, his voice carrying a tone of amusement, knowing this was about to spark some opinions among the group.

From the front seat, PD Na reached into a folder and pulled out neatly printed sheets of paper. “I will give this out to everyone, so take a read,” he continued, holding the stack up before passing it to Hoshi, who was closest to him.

Hoshi took a sheet, glancing at it briefly before turning to his right and handing the rest to Seungkwan, who did the same, passing it along the line. The papers made their way around the bus, with members unfolding them and scanning the itinerary for their week-long adventure in Italy.

“I’m a P, so I like going around comfortably,” Seungkwan remarked, breaking the silence, his tone light yet purposeful. His comment referred to his MBTI type, one that favored spontaneity over strict planning.

“I’m a J,” Mingyu interjected, clearly enjoying the thought of a structured schedule. He held the paper up, studying it with genuine interest, as though he were preparing for a quiz.

“Me too,” Jeonghan chimed in lazily, though a faint smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, hinting at his agreement with Mingyu.

“I’m a J too,” Wonwoo added, nodding solemnly as if this was a matter of great significance.

“Me too,” Luna echoed, her eyes scanning the paper in her hands with a satisfied expression. “Seeing a written schedule puts me at ease,” she told PD Na with a small, sincere smile that made the staff in the front grin at her remark.

“I’m a J too,” Woozi said from his seat, his voice calm but with a hint of irritation creeping in. “I’m a super J. This situation is kind of… this situation is kind of annoying. There is not much planning at all. It wasn’t even in my expectations,” he admitted, shaking his head slightly. His blunt honesty drew laughter from the crew and PD Na, who were no strangers to Woozi’s meticulous tendencies.

“Me too,” Wonwoo and Luna said in unison, glancing at each other briefly before chuckling.

“It’s not easy,” Woozi continued, his voice tinged with mild frustration.

“I need to cancel my plans too,” Wonwoo added, his tone calm but laced with subtle sarcasm.

[The introverts struggle]

“Wow… six nights and seven days is crazy,” Mingyu marveled, his excitement shining through.

“‘More than 20 years of travel experience leading group tours,’” Seungkwan read aloud from the itinerary, his tone skeptical as he squinted at the line. He raised his head, his expression thoughtful. “I need to see first if the cell phone number is real,” he said, reaching into his pocket for his phone.

“There’s a phone number there,” one of the writers seated in the front informed them, amused by the group’s antics. “You can contact the guide throughout 24 hours.”

“Really?” Mingyu asked, looking up from the paper with a mixture of curiosity and mischief.

“I hope that you don’t bother me when I am sleeping,” PD Na replied, his tone teasing but with a hint of seriousness that made the members chuckle.

“Is this Young Seok’s actual phone number?” Woozi asked, his brow furrowed as he stared at the itinerary, referring directly to PD Na.

“Yes, it’s my real number,” PD Na confirmed with a grin.

“Wow, I got his number,” Mingyu said, his tone filled with mock astonishment, as though he’d just obtained the contact information of a celebrity.

“I got a celebrity’s number,” Woozi added dryly, his expression stoic but his comment drawing hearty laughter from the crew and members alike.

For a few moments, silence settled over the bus as the members, one by one, reached for their phones. The faint sound of fingers tapping against screens filled the air as they diligently saved PD Na’s number into their contacts.

“If you look at the first thing in the beginning, included are optional tours and pocket money. We give you all meals. All dorms are included. We sometimes play with you too, and there’s even free time,” PD Na explained, pausing briefly to gauge their reactions.

“When we arrive in the afternoon at Rome, we will sleep for a night and then head towards Tuscany countryside the next day,” he continued, glancing down at his notes.

“Crazy,” Mingyu sighed, leaning back in his seat, his excitement palpable.

“Is there anyone who has heard of Tuscany countryside?” PD Na asked, scanning the group for any reactions.

“Yes,” Luna said, her voice calm as her eyes stayed glued to the paper in her hands, scanning every line.

“That’s the birthplace of wine,” Jeonghan suddenly chimed in, his voice filled with faux seriousness, as if sharing a well-kept secret. Luna’s lips twitched into a smirk as she spotted that very phrase written on the paper in front of her.

[Correct]

“It’s written here,” Dino pointed out, lifting his own paper and holding it up slightly to emphasize his words. The way he deadpanned it made Jeonghan snicker, knowing he’d been caught red-handed.

“He’s just showing everyone he can read,” Luna teased, her smirk growing as she leaned back comfortably, giving Jeonghan a playful side-eye.

[Correct again]

Jeonghan turned to her with a faux look of offense before leaning across Dino, who was seated between them. “Yah, you’re going to regret that,” he murmured under his breath, his tone dripping with mischief.

Luna barely glanced at him, her smirk unwavering. “Oh, am I?” she whispered back, keeping her voice low but laced with amusement. “Because right now, it just sounds like you’re salty you got caught.”

Jeonghan’s grin widened, and without missing a beat, he reached over and poked her side. The sudden jab made Luna squeal and squirm in her seat, batting his hand away as she laughed.

“Stop it,” she hissed between giggles, her eyes narrowing at him in mock annoyance. “You’re such a child.”

“And you’re too confident for someone who screams that easily, Nana-ya,” Jeonghan retorted with a teasing lilt, leaning back into his seat as if he’d won the exchange.

Their playful banter earned a few chuckles from the other members, and Luna rolled her eyes, muttering, “Whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Jeonghan simply smirked, clearly satisfied with himself.

PD Na cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him. “So if you go to Tuscany, we rented out a country farm that is surrounded by a wine farm,” he continued, his tone growing more enthusiastic as he described their accommodations. “We are going to stay there for three nights. There’s a swimming pool at the dorm, and so that you guys can work out… there’s workout equipment.”

“There’s workout equipment?” Mingyu repeated, his tone rising with excitement as he perked up in his seat. His energy was infectious, and most of the members clearly shared his enthusiasm at the mention of exercising equipment.

“I’m so happy,” Woozi said, his voice quiet but genuinely pleased as he and Mingyu huddled next to each other, their excitement palpable.

[Equipment excites them the most]

“Cute,” Luna said with a chuckle, watching the two of them with a fond smile.

“And once the trip is all finished,” PD Na said, his tone taking on a sly edge, “PLEDIS will come back when we put you all in a hotel. They are going to take over from there.”

The reminder of going back to work made the members groan lightly, their faces shifting from excitement to reluctant acceptance.

PD Na chuckled at their expressions before adding, “They are going to take all of you to film your music video.”

[Tokyo > Incheon > Rome > Budapest]

“I don’t want to go. I don’t want to go,” Wonwoo said, chuckling softly as he shook his head.

“I really don’t want to go,” Dokyeom echoed, his dramatic delivery earning a round of laughter from the group.

“Take a read and please ask if you have anything you’re curious about,” PD Na said, gesturing for them to review their schedules further.

The group obliged, their eyes darting back to the sheets of paper in their hands.

After a moment of silence, Dino raised his hand slightly. “But the thing I am curious about the most… on the fourth day, after we come back to the dorm and have dinner…” Dino trailed off, glancing at the paper as if unsure how to phrase his question.

“Talent show,” Luna said, cutting in smoothly. She didn’t even need to look at Dino to know exactly what he was about to ask, her tone confident.

“It says talent show,” Dino confirmed, nodding in agreement before continuing, “I am thinking that this talent show will be a lot of fun.”

The members chuckled, clearly intrigued by the concept. The lighthearted nature of the trip was already getting to them, and the mention of a talent show only added to their growing excitement.

“It’s ‘Talent Show,’ parenthesis ‘Get your airtime,’” Seungkwan translated, emphasizing PD Na’s not-so-subtle motive with an exaggerated tone that sent the group into laughter.

“Yes, we have all participated in a talent show when we were in elementary and middle school,” Dino said, his nostalgic comment drawing nods of agreement.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu said, his excitement still evident as he grinned.

“I’m excited,” Luna chuckled, her voice warm with anticipation.

“I think it’s going to be a lot of fun,” Dino said again, his tone thoughtful.

“It’s so nice,” Mingyu repeated, practically glowing.

“It’s really so nice,” Seungkwan added, his voice filled with exaggerated enthusiasm.

The members were clearly buzzing with excitement, the sudden trip to Italy and the promise of fun-filled activities rejuvenating them. They hadn’t had a proper vacation in a while, and it showed in the way they talked over each other and laughed more freely.

“I really thought it was my birthday. All of the members come in on my birthday, but then I realized not everyone was there,” Jeonghan said, chuckling as he reminisced about their chaotic wake-up call earlier that day.

“Other than that day, there is no need for them to come in,” Woozi added, his tone matter-of-fact, which only made the others laugh.

“Yes,” Dino agreed, nodding sagely as if he were speaking from experience.

“‘Is it my birthday?’” Jeonghan re-enacted what he thought earlier, scrunching his face in mock confusion and rubbing his temple as though he were trying to recall the date.

[It isn’t]

Luna burst into laughter at his impression. “Cute,” she said, her laughter bubbling over. “I can imagine your face trying to remember if it is your birthday.”

Her laughter slowed as she suddenly deadpanned, “I thought I was actually gonna get kidnapped.” Her comment immediately drew roars of laughter from the group as they remembered the chaos of earlier that morning— her scream, her phone flying across the room at PD Na, and how she’d fallen off the bed, right onto Jeonghan.

[Confusion everywhere]

“It’s been a while since it’s been fun,” Hoshi said, his voice warm as he smiled. The group nodded in agreement, the atmosphere on the bus growing lighter with every passing moment.

Soon, the bus rumbled softly to a stop in front of Narita Airport in Tokyo, its hum dying down as the doors hissed open. Na PD’s crew began moving first, organizing their equipment and signaling for the members to file out. Inside the bus, the members stirred from their seats, gathering themselves in varying states of excitement and curiosity.

Jeonghan stood first, stretching his arms before turning to Luna, who was still seated. “Ready, Cherry’s mom?” he teased, nodding toward the bunny plushie she was holding.

Luna smirked, adjusting the plushie in her arms. “Let’s go, Cherry’s dad.” Her voice was light, filled with humor.

The group began stepping off the bus one by one, their chatter filling the crisp air of the airport drop-off area.

Luna walked in between Jeonghan and Wonwoo, linking her arms with theirs as the three joined the rest of the group heading toward the terminal. Na PD and his crew led the way, occasionally glancing back to ensure everyone was following.

“Then, did you fool us with our plane time too?” Dokyeom asked as they walked, his curiosity piqued. He turned to the crew, his eyes narrowing slightly in mock accusation.

“Right,” Wonwoo agreed, glancing at Dokyeom before looking ahead. His voice was calm, but his expression hinted at amusement.

“That’s exactly what happened,” Luna said matter-of-factly, her tone teasing as she glanced at Dokyeom with a knowing smirk.

[More lies]

“Yes, since the time we are leaving is completely different,” Jeonghan added, his voice smooth as he leaned slightly closer to Luna.

The group moved as a unit through the terminal, their steps echoing in sync on the polished floors. Some of the members were talking amongst themselves, their voices overlapping in excitement. Others were simply taking in the surroundings, marveling at the fact that they were, once again, heading off on an unexpected adventure.

“It’s nice because it’s not confusing,” Jeonghan remarked as he and Luna walked in tandem. He held onto one hand of Cherry’s plush paw while Luna held the other. The two of them swung the plushie mindlessly between them, a small, unspoken rhythm that reflected their easy chemistry.

“Yes, it’s neat. Really neat and smooth,” Woozi chimed in, walking on Jeonghan’s other side. His voice was quiet but appreciative, his eyes darting between the bustling airport and his groupmates.

“That’s because we have nothing with us,” Luna pointed out, her tone laced with dry humor.

“Right. It’s because we have no luggage,” Dokyeom agreed from a few steps behind her, laughing softly.

“It’s the quickest airport procedure of our lives,” Luna chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief.

“It’s kind of really nice,” Dokyeom said again, as if savoring the simplicity of the moment.

“It’s comfortable because we didn’t bring anything,” Jeonghan added, his hand still swinging Cherry’s paw along with Luna’s.

“It reminds me of our rookie days,” Luna said, glancing between Jeonghan and the other members, a fond smile tugging at her lips.

“Right! Kind of like our debut days. It kind of feels like we’re going to do our reality show during our rookie days,” Dokyeom said, his voice carrying a nostalgic tone.

“That feeling is strong right now,” Mingyu agreed, his steps quickening slightly as excitement bubbled up in him.

The members nodded and hummed their agreement, a subtle wave of nostalgia washing over the group as they continued toward their gate. The ease of movement, the lack of baggage, and the sense of spontaneity took them back to their earliest days as a group, stirring a shared sense of camaraderie.

Soon, the group transitioned from the bustling terminal to the jet bridge, the narrow tunnel leading to their plane. The sound of footsteps reverberated in the enclosed space, a blend of sneakers and boots padding against the floor. Na PD’s crew followed closely behind, carrying their cameras and equipment, ready to capture every moment.

At the back of the group, Hoshi held a GoPro, his mischievous grin evident as he aimed it toward Jeonghan and Luna, who were walking at the front. The two were still holding Cherry’s plush paws, mindlessly swinging the bunny up and down as they led the group.

Hoshi tilted his head slightly, his voice low as he muttered to the camera, “It’s mom and dad.” He couldn’t hold back a quiet snicker, clearly amused by the scene unfolding in front of him.

He lifted the GoPro a little higher and called out, “Mom! Dad!”

Surprisingly, both Jeonghan and Luna turned at the same time, their synchronized movement almost comical. Jeonghan raised his eyebrows, his expression playful as he waved at the camera, while Luna smiled softly, lifting her hand to wave as well.

Hoshi burst into laughter behind the camera, clearly pleased with their reaction. “See? Perfect synchronization,” he muttered, angling the camera back toward himself for a brief second before returning it to the pair in front.

[Bunny telepathy]

Jeonghan and Luna exchanged a quick glance, sharing an amused smile at Hoshi’s antics before continuing down the jet bridge. The group followed closely behind, the air buzzing with anticipation as they prepared to board the plane.

The cabin of the plane was bathed in a soft glow as the members of SEVENTEEN filed into the business class area. The plush, spacious seats seemed to call to them like a siren’s song after their hectic schedules. Each member took their assigned seat, a blend of quiet murmurs and rustling filling the air as they settled in. The exhaustion from the concert the night before, the early morning spontaneity of the trip, and their general lack of sleep over the past few days hung over them like a heavy blanket.

Almost as soon as they sank into their seats, many of the members began to drift off.

Mingyu was the first, his head lolling to the side, eyes fluttering closed. Woozi, seated next to him, barely made it to buckling his seatbelt before slumping against the window, his breaths evening out. Jun let out a soft sigh, his hands tucked beneath his head as he leaned back, his eyelids heavy.

One by one, most of them succumbed to their exhaustion, the hum of the plane’s engines serving as an unintentional lullaby.

In the middle of the cabin, Luna was seated beside Jeonghan. Her head rested on his shoulder, her eyes half-closed as she fiddled with her phone, finishing a text to her mom. Jeonghan, meanwhile, held his phone to his ear, speaking softly into it. His voice was low and soothing, a stark contrast to the lively energy he had displayed just hours earlier.

“Yes, Mom,” Jeonghan said, his tone warm as a small smile tugged at his lips. “We’re about to board. Well, we’re already seated, but we haven’t taken off yet.”

Luna shifted slightly against his shoulder, listening to the gentle cadence of his voice as her own exhaustion started to catch up with her.

“Oh, that’s good,” his mom replied on the other end, her voice audible enough for Luna to catch the affection in her tone. “How are you? Are you eating well? You’ve been so busy.”

“I’m fine, really,” Jeonghan reassured her, his voice soft. “I’m eating enough, sleeping when I can. Don’t worry too much.”

“And Jiyeonie? Is she there with you?” his mom asked, her voice carrying a hint of curiosity.

Jeonghan glanced down at Luna, whose head was still resting on his shoulder, her phone now dark in her lap. A faint smile crossed his face. “Yes, she’s right here,” he said.

“Let me see her!” his mom exclaimed eagerly.

Jeonghan chuckled quietly, already switching the call to a video call. “Okay, okay, hold on.” He adjusted his phone, angling the camera toward Luna.

Luna, who had been close to dozing off, blinked and turned her head toward the phone. “Hmm?” she murmured, her voice drowsy but curious.

Jeonghan nodded, holding the phone steady. “She wants to see you.”

Luna straightened slightly, her smile sleepy but warm as she waved at the camera. “Mom, hello,” she said softly.

“Ah, Jiyeonie!” Jeonghan’s mom beamed through the screen, her voice bright with affection. “It’s so nice to see you. I miss you! Are you taking care of my son?”

Luna chuckled softly, her cheeks tinged with a faint pink. “I’m trying my best,” she replied. “He’s doing well, though. You don’t have to worry.”

“I still worry,” Jeonghan’s mom said, shaking her head with a fond smile. “You both look so tired. Are you getting enough rest?”

“We’re okay, really,” Luna said, her voice gentle. “We’ve just had a busy few days, but we’ll get some rest now.”

Jeonghan’s mom nodded, her expression softening. “Good. Take care of each other, okay? And don’t forget to eat. Jeonghan-ah, you make sure Jiyeonie eats too!”

“I always do,” Jeonghan said, his tone teasing but affectionate.

After a few more exchanges, Jeonghan’s mom ended the call with a warm, “Stay safe, have fun, call me when you can, and don’t worry about the dinner— we’ll reschedule it with you guys. Love you both!”

“Love you too, Mom,” Jeonghan and Luna chorused before ending the call. He placed his phone on the tray table, turning to Luna with a faint smile.

“She loves you more than me at this point,” he teased, his voice soft.

Luna let out a quiet laugh, leaning back against his shoulder. “Well, I am lovable,” she replied lightly, her voice tinged with drowsiness.

Jeonghan smirked, his gaze softening as he looked down at her. “That you are,” he said quietly.

For a moment, the two sat in comfortable silence, the hum of the plane and the soft snores of the other members surrounding them.

“Are you going to fall asleep like this?” Jeonghan asked, glancing at her head resting on his shoulder.

Luna hummed in response, her eyes already closed. “Might as well. You’re comfy.”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, shifting slightly to make her more comfortable. “I’m honored,” he murmured.

“Good,” Luna mumbled, her voice fading as she drifted off.

Jeonghan leaned his head back against the seat, his hand brushing against hers as they both succumbed to the quiet, shared exhaustion.

The plane began to taxi down the runway, but neither of them noticed, already lost to sleep.

The flight from Tokyo to Incheon had been brief, allowing the members a chance to catch some rest, though it didn’t do much to diminish their exhaustion.

[Tokyo > Incheon]

Once they landed at Incheon International Airport, the group made their way to the waiting lounge for their connecting flight to Rome. The lounge was spacious and quiet, with large windows offering a view of the tarmac where planes taxied to and fro under a pale morning sky.

SEVENTEEN, Na PD, and his crew spread out across the lounge, everyone settling into their own routines.

Some of the members were on their phones, scrolling through social media or messaging friends and family. Hoshi, Minghao, and Wonwoo were sitting off to the side with PD Na, quietly chatting about the upcoming shoot, their voices blending with the hum of the air conditioning. DK and Mingyu had just returned from a quick run to the café, arms laden with cups of coffee, which they distributed to the group. Joshua accepted his cup with a grateful smile before promptly burying himself in his phone, while Woozi was already sipping his, his gaze distant as though lost in thought.

Luna was seated in a plush chair by the windows, her legs crossed as she leaned back, phone in hand. She had been unusually quiet, content to let the energy of the group swirl around her as she texted Seungcheol to update him on their whereabouts. Her messages were simple and to the point:

“We just landed in Incheon. Waiting for the flight to Rome now. Miss you already 🩷”

Luna knew he was probably already asleep due to their hectic morning, so she set her phone down for a moment, stretching her limbs as she yawned.

Jeonghan, who had been deep in conversation with Seungkwan a moment ago, glanced over and noticed Luna’s silence. Finishing his sentence with Seungkwan, he strolled over to her, his movements languid and unhurried. He came to a stop behind her chair, placing both hands on the armrests on either side of her, effectively trapping her in place. Leaning forward, he rested his chin lightly on top of her head, his breath warm against her hair.

Luna didn’t flinch at his closeness, already used to Jeonghan’s habit of invading her personal space with casual ease. She was scrolling through Instagram out of boredom whilst Jeonghan watched from his place. The two of them didn’t speak at first, simply existing in the same space, her calm energy complementing his presence. Jeonghan’s warmth seeped into her, grounding her in a way that words couldn’t.

After a few moments, Jeonghan moved— one of his hands left the armrest to cup the front of her neck, his fingers gentle but firm as he tilted her head back to look up at him. Luna found herself staring at him upside down, her sleepy gaze meeting his mischievous one.

“Hello,” Jeonghan said softly, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

“Hi,” Luna replied, her voice just as soft, a small, sleepy smile spreading across her face.

Jeonghan studied her for a moment, his sharp eyes taking in her posture and the faint pout tugging at her lips. He tilted his head slightly. “Bored already?” he asked, his tone a perfect blend of teasing and cooing.

Luna gave a small, upside-down nod, her hair brushing against the back of the chair as she moved.

Jeonghan let out a soft laugh, his fingers tracing along the side of her neck before moving to brush a stray strand of hair away from her face. “You’re so impatient,” he murmured, his voice gentle but laced with teasing. “We’ve barely even started, and you’re bored?”

“It’s not my fault,” Luna replied, her voice nonchalant but carrying a hint of a pout. “There’s nothing to do.”

Jeonghan’s lips twitched into a smirk, and he leaned down a little further, closing the distance between them. “Nothing to do?” he echoed, his tone mockingly scandalized. “You’ve got me here, don’t you? I’m plenty entertaining.”

Luna raised an eyebrow, her lips twitching into a small, sleepy smile. “Are you now?”

“Of course,” Jeonghan replied smoothly, his voice dropping into a soft murmur. His fingers lightly trailed down her arm, the touch comforting and intimate as he let them linger near her wrist. “You should know by now that I’m an excellent distraction.”

Luna’s smile widened slightly, and she tilted her head just enough to nuzzle against his wrist where it rested near her neck. “I guess you’ll have to prove it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Jeonghan chuckled, the sound low and warm. His fingers brushed against her jaw before sliding back down to her shoulder, his touch light and deliberate. “You’re impossible, you know that?” he murmured, his words carrying no real weight as they lingered in their shared bubble of calm.

“So are you,” Luna retorted, her voice soft but teasing, her gaze still locked with his.

For a moment, neither of them spoke, the connection between them palpable as they remained in that position, his hands gentle and reassuring against her. The hum of the lounge faded into the background, leaving only the sound of their quiet breathing and the occasional soft rustle of movement.

Finally, Jeonghan shifted, his hand sliding down to intertwine with hers. He straightened, gently pulling her up out of her seat with an easy tug.

“Come on,” he said, his voice light and teasing as he gave her a small smile. “Let’s find something to entertain you before you drive both of crazy.”

Luna let out a soft laugh, letting him lead her away as they disappeared into their own little world.

With their hands intertwined, Jeonghan effortlessly picked up the GoPro that had been handed to them earlier, his movements relaxed yet deliberate. With a quick glance around the lounge, he noticed no one seemed to see that he and Luna quietly slipped out, their departure so seamless that even the crew failed to catch it.

[Bye-bye]

Jeonghan couldn’t help but smirk to himself as they strolled toward the shops just beyond the lounge, their fingers still laced together while Luna cradled Cherry in her other arm.

He powered on the GoPro, holding it up to capture them both in the frame. His voice was light and playful as he began his commentary. “Hello, everyone,” he started, his tone smooth yet mischievous. “We’ve escaped. The others don’t even know we’re gone.” He tilted the camera slightly to focus on Luna, who was already glancing at the shops around them with wide eyes.

[Starts his own vlog]

“And here we have our Jiyeonie,” Jeonghan continued in a faux-serious tone, adjusting the camera to show her from a flattering angle. “As you can see, she’s clutching her precious Cherry in one hand, and in the other…” He panned the camera to their intertwined fingers for a moment before swinging it back up to their faces. “Well, she’s stuck with me. Poor thing.”

[The ‘poor thing’ got dragged]

Luna, entirely unfazed by his narration, was too busy eyeing the displays of the shops they passed. Her attention flicked from one store to another, her curiosity piqued by the gleaming windows showcasing everything from luxury goods to quirky souvenirs.

Jeonghan chuckled, zooming in on her distracted expression. “Ah, look at her,” he mused, his tone now resembling that of a nature documentary host. “She’s spotted her prey— shiny shops filled with items she knows she can’t buy at the moment.” He pointed the camera toward the storefronts before swinging it back to Luna. “Why, you ask? Well, dear viewers, because we don’t have any luggage, and if we come back with bags, PD Na will murder us both.”

The comment made Luna snap out of her trance. She turned to him with a pout, her lips jutting out in a way that only made Jeonghan grin wider. “You’re so mean, Han,” she murmured, her voice soft yet carrying a playful edge.

Jeonghan lowered the camera slightly, his grin softening as he leaned down to meet her gaze. “Don’t worry,” he reassured her, his voice significantly gentler now, a soothing contrast to his earlier teasing. “You can shop all you want in Italy, hmm? We’ll have plenty of time there. I promise.”

Luna held his gaze for a moment, the pout on her lips easing slightly as she nodded. “Okay,” she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper.

But before she could say anything else— or before Jeonghan could continue his commentary— her eyes lit up, brighter than they had at the sight of any of the luxury stores they’d passed. Without warning, she let go of his hand, her entire being leaving the frame as she dashed toward one particular shop.

[Dash]

Jeonghan blinked, momentarily caught off guard, before he followed her line of sight. A fond smile spread across his face as he saw where she’d gone.

Adjusting the GoPro, he pointed it toward the store’s sign: LEGO.

“Of course,” Jeonghan said with a chuckle, resuming his commentary. “Of all the shops, this is the one that catches her attention the most. I never thought I’d meet anyone who loves LEGO more than me, but here we are.”

He stepped closer, the camera capturing Luna as she stood just inside the store, her eyes scanning the shelves like a child in a candy store. Her gaze flitted from one set to another, her expression a mix of awe and delight.

[She is in love]

Jeonghan moved into the frame, angling the camera to show both of them. “This,” he said, gesturing toward her with an exaggerated flourish, “is what pure joy looks like. Forget diamonds and designer bags— Luna’s heart belongs to little plastic bricks.”

Luna, who had been admiring a particularly intricate set, turned her head slightly toward him without taking her eyes off the shelves. “I can hear you, you know,” she said, her tone nonchalant yet laced with sass.

Jeonghan grinned, zooming in on her face. “You were supposed to,” he replied, his voice lilting with amusement. “But you know we can’t get the big ones, right? There’s no way to get them to Italy.” His tone had softened again, now more gentle and coaxing, as if he were explaining to a child why they couldn’t take home every toy in the store.

“I know,” Luna replied simply, still admiring the sets. “I’m just looking.”

Jeonghan chuckled, shifting the camera angle to capture her in profile as she moved from one shelf to the next. “Just looking, she says,” he murmured, his tone now dipping back into his mock-documentary voice. “Like a lioness stalking her prey, she pretends not to be tempted, but we all know better.”

As he spoke, his own gaze wandered, landing on a set that immediately caught his attention. “Oh,” he said, his voice brightening slightly. “That’s a good one. I’ve been wanting that one for ages.”

From somewhere near the shelves, Luna’s voice drifted back to him, soft but teasing. “You’re no better than me.”

Jeonghan turned the camera toward himself, raising an eyebrow as he smirked. “And there it is, folks,” he said, addressing the imaginary audience. “The pot calling the kettle black.”

Luna’s laughter rang out, warm and light, filling the small store as she turned to look at him. “You’re ridiculous,” she said, shaking her head.

[They are one and the same]

“And yet,” Jeonghan retorted, his grin widening as he gestured toward her with the camera, “you’re stuck with me.”

Luna rolled her eyes, but the smile tugging at her lips betrayed her amusement. “Lucky me,” she muttered, her tone dripping with sarcasm.

Jeonghan chuckled, stepping closer to her as he continued filming, the playful energy between them weaving effortlessly into their surroundings.

Luna drifted over to a wall filled with keychains, her excitement palpable as her eyes lit up at the array of tiny LEGO figures dangling neatly in rows. Her fingers brushed over the keychains as she began browsing through them with eager curiosity, her head tilting as she considered each option.

Jeonghan, ever the dedicated cameraman, kept the GoPro focused on her. His amused commentary continued as he watched her. “And now, ladies and gentlemen,” he announced in a dramatic tone, “we’ve entered the second phase of the Luna Shopping Saga: the keychain section. She’s excited. She’s focused. She’s in her element.”

Luna paused in her search and looked up at him, catching the lens of the camera pointed in her direction. Her dimpled smile appeared, soft and sweet, as she tilted her head slightly. “We should get matching keychains,” she said, her voice gentle yet tinged with excitement.

Jeonghan felt his grin widen involuntarily. He nodded, indulgent as ever, and said, “Alright, pick a good match for us. But remember,” he added with exaggerated gravity, speaking directly to the camera again, “I’m allowing her this one small purchase to hold her over for a while. She has some kind of shopping problem.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, immediately catching the teasing tone. “Excuse me,” she said, placing her hands on her hips with a playful scowl. “I do not have a shopping problem, and you’re making it sound like I do!”

Jeonghan chuckled softly, his voice turning warm as he reassured her, “It’s a great problem to have, trust me. You’re allowed to spoil yourself. Now, come on,” he gestured toward the wall of keychains with the GoPro. “Pick one for us. No pressure, but make it a good one.”

[Proceeds to pressure the shopaholic]

Luna rolled her eyes but turned her attention back to the keychains, her fingers dancing over the little figures dangling before her. She started at the top, standing on her tiptoes to examine the higher rows, and slowly worked her way down, pausing every so often to pick up a keychain and inspect it closely.

By the time she reached the bottom row, she crouched down to get a better look, then, without hesitation, shifted to sitting cross-legged on the floor. It was as if she were perfectly comfortable there, oblivious to the cold tile beneath her.

[Plop]

Jeonghan immediately lowered the camera slightly, his voice taking on a gentle but scolding tone. “Nana-ya, don’t sit on the floor— it’s cold and dirty,” he said, though his fond smile betrayed any real disapproval

“It’s comfortable,” Luna replied simply, not even glancing up as she busily sorted through the keychains in her hands.

Jeonghan sighed softly, the corners of his mouth quirking upward as he adjusted his stance. Then, without missing a beat, he brought his feet together in front of her. “Come here,” he said, his tone playful but full of affection, “sit on my shoes instead.”

Luna glanced up, raising an eyebrow at him but still grinning as she shifted forward, settling herself lightly on the tops of his shoes. “Better?” she asked, her voice teasing as she held up two keychains for a closer look.

“Much,” Jeonghan replied, resuming his commentary for the camera. “See, viewers, this is what true friendship looks like. Sacrificing my own feet so she doesn’t freeze her butt off on the cold floor. A hero, really.”

Luna huffed a soft laugh but ignored him, her attention fully focused on her task. After a few more minutes of deliberation, she held up two pairs of matching keychains for Jeonghan to see.

One set featured a pink Fairy Batman paired with a blue Bunny Batman, while the other was a classic pairing of Bugs Bunny and Lola Bunny. She held them out with wide eyes, her voice slightly pleading as she declared, “I want all of it.”

Jeonghan chuckled, the warmth in his voice unmistakable as he nodded. “Alright,” he said simply. You can get all of it.”

Luna’s smile grew impossibly wider as she stood up, tucking the keychains into her hand. “Yay!” she exclaimed, her happiness so genuine it made Jeonghan’s chest ache in the best way.

They made their way to the cashier, the GoPro still rolling as Jeonghan filmed the entire process. When they both reached for their wallets, pulling out their cards simultaneously, they smirked at each other knowingly.

Neither had forgotten how PD Na had explicitly told them not to bring their wallets.

[Both brought the wallets they were told not to bring]

Jeonghan angled the camera to show both of them holding their cards. “This,” he said with a grin, “is why we’re the perfect team. Same brain, same bad ideas.”

Luna turned to the camera, her expression playful as she reassured their audience, “Don’t worry, everyone. This is going to be our last purchase with our own money before the trip, I swear—”

She paused mid-sentence when she caught sight of her card in Jeonghan’s hand. He had smoothly taken it while she’d been talking and was now handing his card to the cashier instead. His smirk was pure mischief as he looked at her, clearly enjoying her reaction.

“Yoon Jeonghan!” she exclaimed, her voice half-indignant, half-amused as she playfully glared at him.

“What?” he asked innocently, tucking her card back into her hand. “You said you wanted it all.”

Luna could only shake her head, though her soft smile betrayed her amusement as the cashier handed over the keychains. She quickly instructed, “No bag, please. We can’t bring bags.”

Jeonghan let out a low chuckle as he pocketed the receipt. The two of them headed back toward the lounge, Luna busy clipping the keychains to her jeans as they walked. She attached the Lola Bunny and pink Fairy Batman to her belt loop, then turned to Jeonghan.

[No bag just style]

“Here,” she said, holding out the Bugs Bunny and blue Bunny Batman. She clipped them to his belt loop with care, her lips quirking into a soft smile as she worked.

Jeonghan glanced down, watching her with amusement. “I feel like I’m being accessorized,” he remarked, his tone light and teasing.

“You are,” Luna replied, not missing a beat. “Now hold still. These need to look good.”

Jeonghan chuckled, his voice softening as he cooed, “Anything for you, my little designer. Do I look cute yet?”

Luna smirked up at him, tilting her head. “You’ve never looked better,” she said with mock seriousness before bursting into a quiet laugh.

The two of them continued walking, their banter easy and filled with warmth, the keychains now swinging lightly from their belts as they made their way back to the lounge.

[No bag just vibes]

Back in the lounge, the members of SEVENTEEN were scattered about, finishing their conversations, sipping on coffee, or scrolling through their phones as the final minutes of their break ticked away.

PD Na, who had just finished discussing something with Minghao, Wonwoo, and Hoshi, glanced down at his watch. He tapped the face of it lightly before announcing, “I think we need to slowly get going. There’s fifty minutes left. They’ve started boarding.”

The members around him began stirring, stretching as they stood up and grabbed their belongings which was literally just their passports, tickets, and phones. Jackets pulled on and coffee cups disposed of in the nearby trash cans.

As the group moved to assemble in one spot, PD Na stepped slightly to the side and started counting the members. His eyes swept over each face, his lips moving as he silently tallied. Halfway through, his brow furrowed, and he stopped mid-count, his body stiffening as he flinched. He counted again, slower this time, his voice just audible enough to reveal his mounting concern.

“Eleven,” he muttered under his breath, blinking rapidly before raising his voice. “There’s only eleven of you. Who are missing?”

[Bunny 1 and bunny 2]

The sudden announcement caught everyone’s attention, and the members, now fully alert, began looking around at one another, their own mental counts kicking in. Having fourteen members meant this sort of thing happened often enough that it no longer surprised anyone, but it always took a moment to figure out who was gone.

Joshua, who had been standing closest to PD Na, took one quick look around the group and answered matter-of-factly, “Jiyeonie is obviously not here… so the other one has to be Jeonghan.” His tone was laced with a knowing amusement.

[Ding ding ding]

PD Na groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “We aren’t even there yet. Did I lose members already?” he muttered, looking at the remaining eleven as though hoping someone would magically produce the missing pair.

“Did they say where they were gonna go?” Seungkwan asked, already pulling out his phone and pressing it to his ear to call Luna.

“No one noticed they left,” Woozi added with a small shrug, though his tone carried no judgment.

Seungkwan’s phone call connected, and the group fell silent as they watched him speak. “Noona, where are y— ah… alright,” he said before hanging up. He turned back to the group with a small smile. “They’re on the way back.”

“Did they say where they went?” Hoshi asked, casually sipping his coffee, clearly unbothered by the delay.

“No,” Seungkwan replied, slipping his phone back into his pocket. “Just that they’re on the way. But knowing noona… she probably went to buy something.”

PD Na let out a wry chuckle, shaking his head as though in disbelief. “S.Coups told me this would happen— said we’d lose her— but I didn’t expect it to happen this fast.”

Mingyu laughed softly, slinging his bag over one shoulder. “We aren’t even in Italy yet. Wait till we get there.”

[…]

As if on cue, Jeonghan and Luna appeared in the distance, walking at an unhurried pace that suggested they had all the time in the world. The two of them had no visible bags or large purchases, but their grins were wide and identical, as if they’d just accomplished something mischievous.

“Where did you two go?” PD Na asked the moment they were close enough, his tone bordering on exasperated.

“Hannie bought us matching LEGO keychains,” Luna said with a proud smile, pointing at Jeonghan as though he deserved full credit.

PD Na raised an eyebrow, folding his arms. “You don’t even have bags to put keychains o—” He stopped mid-sentence when Luna turned slightly, pointing at her own belt loop and then at Jeonghan’s. Dangling from each of their jeans were two pairs of keychains, one set featuring Bugs Bunny and Blue Bunny Batman and the other, a pink Fairy Batman with a Lola Bunny.

[Ta-da!]

The rest of the members burst into quiet chuckles, their amusement filling the lounge as they took in the scene. PD Na sighed heavily, rubbing the bridge of his nose as he let out a small, defeated laugh. “You two are going to be a problem in Italy. I can already tell.”

Before he could say anything further, his head snapped back toward them, a new thought dawning on him. His eyes narrowed as he asked, “Where did you get money?”

[Oops]

At that, Luna’s expression shifted instantly. Her eyes darted upward, pretending to find sudden interest in the ceiling, and she took a small step backward as though to quietly remove herself from the conversation. The sight of her blatant attempt to escape made the members laugh harder, their voices echoing through the lounge.

[Peace out]

“Knowing those two,” Minghao said under his breath, loud enough for everyone to hear, “they brought their own cards.”

PD Na groaned, though the faint smile on his face betrayed his fond exasperation.

Jeonghan, as smooth as ever, simply smirked, leaning slightly toward PD Na. “Don’t worry,” he said in his signature charming tone, “we’re not going to use it in Italy. Promise.”

Luna, still avoiding eye contact, shuffled a little further away, muttering softly, “It was instincts.”

Jeonghan chuckled at her, reaching out to gently tug her back toward the group. “Come on, don’t leave me to take all the heat, Nana-ya,” he teased, his voice light and playful.

PD Na could only shake his head at the two of them, muttering something about how this trip was going to test his patience, while the rest of the members laughed at the predictable antics of Jeonghan and Luna.

A few minutes later, slowly but surely, SEVENTEEN and the production team filed into the jet bridge, chatting quietly amongst themselves as they prepared for the long flight ahead. The earlier flight had been short and easy, but this one was a long-haul international journey, and the members were already settling into a more relaxed mindset.

Once on board, they moved to their designated seats in the business class area, where spacious seating arrangements awaited them. The seats were wide, with plush cushions and blankets neatly folded on each one. Small amenity kits and bottles of water were already placed on their armrests.

Luna found herself seated in between Jeonghan and Hoshi. As she slipped into her seat, Jeonghan took the seat to her right, immediately reclining back and sighing in satisfaction. To her left, Hoshi was fiddling with the control panel on his seat, testing the reclining features and grinning when he was finally comfortable.

Around them, the other members were settling in, their chatter dying down as the reality of the lengthy flight sank in. Blankets were unfurled and draped over laps, earbuds were placed in, and some even pulled out neck pillows for extra comfort.

The hum of the plane was steady, a calm precursor to the hours ahead. With fifteen minutes left before the plane doors closed, the cabin was mostly quiet save for the occasional exchange of whispers or chuckles.

As the members settled into their seats, the cabin was filled with the quiet hum of activity. Some adjusted their blankets, reclining their seats to prepare for the long flight, while others scrolled through the in-flight entertainment. The calm was short-lived, however, when a sudden commotion broke out.

Mingyu, who had been rummaging through his seat, abruptly froze. His movements became frantic as he began looking around in growing panic. His wide eyes darted around the cabin as his face paled— he lost his passport.

Within moments, PD Na was signaling to a few crew members to follow him as he led Mingyu off the plane, presumably to retrace their steps back to the lounge where the passport might have been left behind.

In the meantime, the remaining members, now on high alert, began sifting through their own belongings. Pockets were checked and overhead compartments were double-checked, though all seemed to confirm that their documents were accounted for. Some glanced toward the front of the cabin, their expressions a mix of concern and mild amusement at the unexpected delay, while others leaned back in their seats, trusting that the issue would resolve itself soon enough.

A few minutes later, the tension was broken when one of the producers suddenly appeared in the aisle and announced, “The culprit was Dokyeom.”

The words immediately caught everyone’s attention. Heads turned, and even those who had been half-asleep looked up in curiosity.

“What?” Luna asked, lowering her phone as she blinked in confusion.

Jeonghan, seated next to her, glanced up from his own phone. “What did Dokyeomie do?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement but genuinely curious.

“He had Mingyu’s passport,” the producer said, clearly suppressing a grin.

Luna chuckled, shaking her head. “Really?”

“Dokyeom brought it?” Jeonghan followed.

“Dokyeom was holding two,” the producer clarified, causing Jeonghan to chuckle alongside him.

“At least it’s not actually lost and it was just here,” Luna said, her tone lighthearted.

Her comment earned a laugh from Hoshi, who sat on her other side. “Imagine if Mingyu had actually lost it. That would’ve been a whole new level of disaster.”

[Don’t even try to imagine]

As the laughter subsided, Luna’s eyes drifted to the front of the cabin, where she spotted PD Na standing near Mingyu and Dokyeom’s seats. The producer looked visibly haggard, his shoulders slightly slumped as he spoke with the two members. His exasperation was clear, even from a distance.

Leaning slightly toward Jeonghan, Luna nudged him and pointed discreetly toward PD Na. “Look at him,” she said with a small laugh.

Jeonghan followed her gaze and chuckled softly. “He looks like he’s already had enough of us, and we haven’t even taken off.”

It didn’t take long for PD Na to notice them watching him. He straightened up, giving the pair a look that was equal parts tired and amused before shaking his head. “First those two disappearing,” he began, pointing at Jeonghan and Luna, “then another loses his passport,” he added, motioning toward Mingyu. “And now another is a kleptomaniac,” he finished, referring to Dokyeom.

[#HelpPDNa]

The comment earned loud laughs from Jeonghan, Luna, and the rest of the members who had been listening in.

“We are still in Korea,” PD Na said, turning to the camera crew as if speaking directly to the audience. His tone implied that too much had already happened before their journey had even properly begun.

[That we are]

Once everything was settled and back in order, the members eased into the rhythm of the flight, the earlier chaos a distant memory.

Next to Luna, Hoshi busied himself with the GoPro, the small camera in his hands capturing snippets of their journey. He hummed softly to himself, a lighthearted melody carrying through the cabin. “Vacation, vacation, vacation~,” he sang under his breath, his excitement palpable as his knee bounced slightly in anticipation.

Turning his attention to Luna and Jeonghan, he noticed how the two are starting to drifted off, their exhaustion catching up to them after the long day. Jeonghan’s head tilted slightly to the side, resting comfortably against the seat’s headrest, while Luna’s cheek was pressed gently into the cushion of her seat. Their blankets were pulled up snugly, rising and falling with each peaceful breath. Smiling fondly, Hoshi couldn’t resist reaching over and giving their cheeks a light, playful squeeze, their sleepy faces making him grin.

“This is really exciting. Going on vacation,” he murmured, his voice soft as he turned to Dino, seated at his other side. Dino, just as energized about the trip, leaned closer to chat with him, their quiet exchange blending seamlessly with the ambient sounds of the cabin.

Soon after takeoff, the cabin lights dimmed, signaling the start of the long-haul journey. Half the members, lulled by the gentle hum of the engines, opted to recline their seats fully and surrender to sleep. Blankets were spread across laps, pillows adjusted beneath heads, and soon the soft rustle of fabric and steady breathing filled the space. The calm was a welcome contrast to the earlier bustle.

Among those sound asleep were Luna, Jeonghan, and Hoshi, their trio now completely at rest. Hoshi’s GoPro was abandoned on his tray table, while Luna and Jeonghan remained cocooned in their seats. Their reclined positions, paired with the warm glow of the blanket light on their faces, gave them a serene appearance. The slow rise and fall of their chests matched the rhythm of the flight’s gentle turbulence, a reminder of the calm that had finally enveloped them.

[Peaceful at last]

Meanwhile, the other half of the group, resisting the pull of sleep, opted to peruse the in-flight menu instead. Quiet chatter accompanied the soft clinking of cutlery as the cabin crew moved swiftly to accommodate requests.

For the sleeping members, however, time slipped by unnoticed. Hours passed without interruption, and even as the faint aroma of lunch filled the air, those in slumber remained undisturbed, their bodies and minds recharging for the adventure that awaited them on the other side of the world.

By the time dinner service rolled around, the cabin lights were dim but warm, casting a comfortable glow over the business class section.

Jeonghan was awake, his seat upright as he stretched his arms above his head, the tension of sleep melting from his limbs. A small, serene smile tugged at his lips as he turned toward the camera stationed discreetly in front of them, acknowledging it with a soft, playful expression before glancing to his left.

His gaze landed on Luna, still sound asleep in her fully reclined seat.

Her petite frame was curled up beneath the thick airline blanket, which was pulled snugly up to her chin. In her arms, she cradled her plush bunny, Cherry, its long ears peeking out from the folds of the blanket. Her face was peaceful, her lashes fanned out against her cheeks as her breathing came in soft, even rhythms. The sight made Jeonghan’s smile grow, his heart softening at how impossibly small and endearing she looked in that moment.

Next to Jeonghan, Hoshi leaned over slightly to get a better look. “Are you gonna wake her?” he asked, his voice low but laced with curiosity, as if he too was reluctant to disturb Luna’s peaceful rest.

Jeonghan shifted, his attention never leaving her. “She needs to eat,” he murmured, his tone thoughtful.

His hand moved instinctively, resting gently on her back atop the blanket. He began to rub small, soothing circles between her shoulder blades, his touch feather-light and careful not to startle her awake. He’d done this before— more times than he could count… earlier morning for example— and he found he didn’t mind. Waking Luna had always been a gentle ritual, one he approached with the same patience and care each time.

“Nana-ya,” Jeonghan called softly, his voice warm and coaxing. His hand continued its slow movements, the rhythm steady and calming. “Nana-ya, wake up. Dinner’s here.”

Luna stirred faintly, her brows knitting together as she shifted her head slightly against the plush pillow. A faint hum escaped her lips, followed by a sleepy mumble that was barely audible.

“Come on, sleepyhead,” Jeonghan continued, a tender laugh slipping from him as he leaned in a bit closer. “You need to eat something. You haven’t eaten all day.”

Her eyes fluttered open slowly, her gaze unfocused as she adjusted to the dim light of the cabin. “What time is it?” she murmured, her voice heavy with sleep.

“It’s dinnertime,” Jeonghan replied, his tone soft and patient.

Luna blinked a few more times, her brain slowly catching up as she looked up at him with a dazed expression. “Where are we?” she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Still on the plane, somewhere on Earth,” Jeonghan answered with a quiet chuckle, his hand moving to gently smooth down her hair. “We’re nowhere near Italy yet.”

“Oh…” Luna mumbled, her eyes starting to close again as her head tilted back toward the pillow.

“Ah, no,” Jeonghan teased gently, his hand shifting to lightly tap her arm. “You’re not going back to sleep just yet. Come on, sit up for me.”

With a soft groan of protest, Luna pushed herself up, her movements sluggish and reluctant. Her seat began to rise as she adjusted the controls, her blanket still draped over her lap. As she sat upright, she spotted the camera in front of them, and her lips curled into a small, sleepy smile. Lifting a hand, she gave a slow, lazy wave to the lens, her fingers peeking out from the blanket.

Jeonghan watched her fondly, a quiet laugh escaping him as she rubbed her eyes with her free hand, trying to shake off the remnants of sleep. “There she is,” he said softly, the affection in his voice unmistakable.

Luna looked at him then, her smile widening ever so slightly. “Did you really have to wake me?” she murmured playfully, though her tone lacked any real complaint.

“You’ll thank me when you eat,” Jeonghan replied with a grin, his tone teasing but warm. “Trust me.”

And despite her initial reluctance, the look in her eyes as she glanced back at him said she did.

[Food wakes her up]

Once their dinner trays were placed in front of them, Jeonghan leaned back slightly, his eyes flicking toward the camera. He grinned, his voice carrying a playful tone as he turned to Luna and Hoshi. “I feel like the members are going to get there, take their clothes off, and play in the ocean.”

Luna let out a soft yawn, still fighting off the lingering tiredness that clung to her even after waking. “Sounds fun,” she murmured, her voice quiet as she eyed the neatly arranged meal on her tray. Her movements were slow as she began to pick up her utensils, ready to eat.

Jeonghan’s gaze dropped to Luna’s top, where the small mic had been unpinned during her nap. Gently, he reached over, fingers deftly working to pin it back in place. “Hold still,” he murmured softly as he secured it to her shirt again. Satisfied with his work, he pulled back and smiled.

Hoshi, seated on Luna’s other side, seemed to be in his own world as he peeked down inside his tank top. His fingers tugged at the fabric, pulling it away from his chest to inspect it. Nodding to himself, he looked up at Jeonghan. “My shirt is so droopy,” he commented, matter-of-factly.

Jeonghan glanced over and raised a brow, noticing how the damp fabric clung awkwardly to Hoshi’s frame, weighed down from earlier. “It does look a little loose,” Jeonghan remarked with a faint smirk before returning to his food.

Hoshi shrugged and grabbed his utensils, diving into his meal. He chewed thoughtfully before speaking again. “Rice is good with just seaweed and kimchi,” he announced, his tone betraying a hint of longing as he looked down at his tray.

At that, Hoshi frowned slightly, realizing his meal didn’t include any kimchi. He poked at the rice with his chopsticks before mumbling, “Oh, I want kimchi.”

As if the absence of kimchi was suddenly more unbearable, Hoshi began tugging at his tank top again, trying to adjust it. The fabric stubbornly refused to stay in place, slipping lower as he fiddled with it. Luna, noticing his subtle frustration, glanced over at him.

“Do you want to ask them?” she asked, her voice soft and amused as she subtly gestured toward a nearby flight attendant. Catching the woman’s attention, Luna gave her a polite smile and signaled for her to come over.

When the flight attendant approached, Hoshi looked up, his tone hopeful as he asked, “Is there kimchi?”

The attendant offered him an apologetic smile. “We don’t have kimchi. We have shredded radish. Do you want some?”

Hoshi paused for a moment, considering his options, before nodding. “I’ll take the shredded radish,” he said with a resigned but polite smile. The flight attendant nodded and left to retrieve it.

As they continued eating, Luna couldn’t help but notice Hoshi’s repeated attempts to adjust his shirt. The constant tugging at the back of his tank top had her stifling a chuckle. Setting her utensils down, she reached into her pocket and pulled out a hair clip.

[Fidgeting]

“Hold still,” Luna said softly, leaning toward Hoshi. Before he could react, she took the straps of his tank top from behind and neatly clipped them together, effectively tightening the fabric to keep it from drooping further.

Hoshi blinked, looking over his shoulder at her with a wide grin. “Thank you,” he said, his tone genuinely grateful.

Luna smiled at him, her voice light and teasing. “Your whole chest was out, Shi-shi.” She reached out to lightly stroke his cheek, her gesture brief but affectionate, before she returned to her own meal.

Hoshi’s grin widened as he glanced up, his attention shifting toward the flight attendant who was approaching with his shredded radish. His eyes followed her eagerly, earning an amused look from Luna.

“Cute,” she said softly, her words meant more for herself than anyone else, but Hoshi caught them and laughed quietly.

Almost immediately after the word left her mouth, Luna heard Jeonghan’s playful voice next to her. “How about me?” he asked, feigning the innocence of a child craving attention.

Without missing a beat, Luna, accustomed to Jeonghan’s antics, responded absentmindedly, “The cutest.” Her tone was soft, yet distracted, her attention focused on the food in front of her.

But Jeonghan, ever mischievous, wasn’t satisfied. He leaned closer and poked her side just below her ribs, the action causing Luna to squeal and squirm in her seat, her blanket shifting slightly in the process. She turned to glare at him, her cheeks puffing in mock annoyance, which only made him smirk wider, pleased with himself.

Before she could say anything to scold him, Jeonghan quickly pointed to the screen on his seat, his smirk morphing into an expression of pure delight. “They have Harry Potter,” he announced, his voice slightly higher with excitement.

The words worked like a charm. Luna’s faux irritation melted away in an instant, her eyes lighting up as she turned to him, her tone now eager. “Really?” she asked, leaning forward slightly to peer at his screen. “Can we watch?” she added softly, her excitement tempered only by her shyness in asking him to watch together.

Jeonghan gave her a small nod, his smile gentle now. “We’ll watch together,” he said simply, his voice reassuring and warm.

The smile that spread across Luna’s face at his words was unmistakably genuine. Wasting no time, she pulled up her own screen, quickly navigating through the selection to find the Harry Potter series. She scrolled down until she found the first film, her fingers tapping swiftly but carefully to make sure she didn’t miss it.

Once it was ready on her screen, she glanced at Jeonghan’s to make sure he was on the same page.

Meticulous as ever, Luna leaned closer to his seat, checking his screen’s timestamp to align it perfectly with hers. She adjusted the slider carefully, ensuring both would start at the exact same second. Her brows furrowed slightly in concentration as she tapped to play both screens simultaneously, finally sitting back with a small sigh of satisfaction.

[The dedication]

She reached for her earphones and gently untangled the cord before placing them on her ears. Jeonghan, already settled with his own earphones, gave her an approving look, noticing how precise she had been to make sure their viewing experience was synchronized.

As the familiar opening notes of the iconic Harry Potter theme filled their ears, Luna leaned back in her seat, a small, contented smile tugging at her lips. Jeonghan stole a glance at her, his gaze lingering for a moment as her expression softened into one of quiet joy, fully immersed in the opening scene.

The rest of the cabin was peaceful, the soft hum of the plane’s engines blending with the faint murmurs of the other passengers. The subtle glow of their screens illuminated Luna and Jeonghan’s relaxed expressions as they enjoyed the movie together, the atmosphere between them warm and comfortable.

Outside, the plane continued to soar through the darkened sky, carrying them closer to their destination.

The thought of Italy lingered at the back of everyone’s minds— a new adventure waiting just beyond the horizon.

[SEVENTEEN is on their way Italy]

For now, the members rested, ate, and entertained themselves, their excitement bubbling beneath the surface. Each mile traveled brought them closer to memories waiting to be made, laughter waiting to be shared, and experiences they would hold close long after the trip was over.

[To be continued in Clip 1-3]

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POSER! ; jeon wonwoo

level twenty three : my evil mandarin warrior twin

mlist | prev ; next

🗯️ bro ur guys’ comments last chap were taking me out😭🙏 like i only wrote that cs my friend fell down the stairs

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Knock, Knock, Bang.

“Open the damn door, Y/N.” Seungcheol’s voice was sharp, almost a growl, cutting through the muffled noise of the music playing in your penthouse.

You leaned casually against the other side of the door, sipping your glass of wine with a sly smirk. “What do you want, Seungcheol?” you drawled, knowing your tone would only aggravate him further.

“I said open the door,” he snapped, fists hitting the hardwood again, harder this time. The sound echoed through the hallway. You could practically feel his frustration seeping through the air, thick and unrelenting.

“I’m busy,” you said nonchalantly, swirling your wine like you didn’t have a care in the world. Inside, your heart raced, but you’d never let him know that.

“Busy doing what? Posting stories with Mingyu?!” His voice cracked with raw anger. “I saw it, Y/N. You think I wouldn’t see it?” Another bang, louder this time. “You’re such a goddamn child sometimes.”

Your laugh was dry, mocking. “Oh, now I’m a child? Was I a child when you were flirting with that blonde at the event? What was her name again? Oh right—”

“Stop it.” His voice was a low growl now, dangerous. “You know damn well nothing happened.”

“Do I?” you shot back, finally stepping closer to the door. You pressed your palm flat against it, almost as if you could feel his energy radiating through the barrier. “Because it sure looked like you were enjoying yourself.”

“You’re being ridiculous,” he spat. The banging resumed, more frantic this time. “Y/N, open the door, or I swear to God—”

“Or you’ll what, Seungcheol? Break it down? That’s not very idol-like of you,” you teased, the smirk evident in your tone.

“Don’t test me,” he warned, his voice dropping an octave. “You don’t want to see what I’ll do if you keep this up.”

“You’re already here making a scene. Might as well go all in, right?”

“Y/N!” His fist slammed into the door again, a guttural growl escaping him. “You blocked me everywhere. You ignored my calls, my texts, everything. And now I see you out with Mingyu, laughing, drinking, looking like you don’t have a single thought about me—”

“Maybe I don’t,” you interrupted coolly, though your heart twisted at the hurt laced in his voice.

“Liar,” he hissed.

The silence hung heavy between you for a moment, only the sound of his ragged breathing and the faint hum of the city beyond the windows filling the space.

“You’re right,” you finally said, voice tinged with venom. “I did block you. Because I don’t have time to deal with your… antics. If you want to flirt with women at business events, that’s fine. But don’t expect me to stick around and play the fool.”

“You are playing the fool, Y/N,” he retorted, voice sharp. “You think Mingyu gives a damn about you? He’s only in it for the chaos. Meanwhile, I’m the one standing here, pounding on your damn door, because I actually give a shit.”

You hesitated, your fingers brushing against the doorknob. His words cut deep, but you weren’t ready to give in. Not yet.

“And what exactly do you want me to do about that, Seungcheol?” you asked, your voice icy.

“I want you to stop running,” he said, his voice softer now, though the frustration still lingered. “Stop running from me. From us. Open the door, Y/N.”

You leaned your forehead against the door, closing your eyes as his words washed over you. The tension crackled like a live wire between you, both of you too stubborn to let go of the fire you’d ignited.

“Say it,” you whispered.

“Say what?” His voice was impatient again, tinged with desperation.

“Say you’re sorry,” you said, your tone laced with a cruel challenge. “Say you won’t look at another woman like that again.”

He laughed bitterly. “You think this is about me? You’re out here playing games with Mingyu, posting stories just to get a reaction out of me, and I’m supposed to apologize?”

“Exactly,” you said, your smirk returning.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered. Another bang on the door. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you countered.

Another silence. Then, softly, “Open the door, Y/N. Please.”

Your heart wavered at the crack in his voice, but you held firm. “Not until you prove you’re serious.”

“Serious?!” he exploded. “I left a room full of people to come here the second I saw that story. I’m standing in the hallway of your penthouse building, looking like a complete idiot, begging you to talk to me. And you think I’m not serious?”

You hesitated, your fingers tightening around the glass in your hand.

“Y/N, I’m not leaving until you open this door,” he said, his tone final.

You sighed, taking one last sip of your wine before setting it down. Slowly, you unlocked the door, but you didn’t open it fully. You left just enough space for his dark, burning eyes to meet yours.

“I’m not done being mad at you,” you warned.

His gaze dropped to your lips before snapping back to your eyes. “Good,” he said, stepping forward and pushing the door open wider. “Neither am I.”

And then he was inside, and the air between you combusted.

Part 2