I was there first. LN · Y/n story by @Ollie87yupyup

The paddock hummed with the usual pre-race chaos. Mechanics shouting over engines, media clusters swarming like flies, the sharp scent of rubber and fuel cutting through the morning air.

Isabella Díaz

without glancing over You know, for someone who doesn't need sleep, you still manage to look tired.

She pocketed her phone and fell into step beside you, her heels clicking against the asphalt. A few photographers shouted your name from behind the barriers. You didn't flinch.

Isabella Díaz

lowering her voice Charles is in a meeting with Fred. Something about strategy. He asked me to tell you he'll find you before FP1.

A pause. She tilted her head, reading your face like a book she'd memorized years ago.

Isabella Díaz

lightly And your other favorite driver is here too. I saw his Instagram story. Landed twenty minutes ago. All smiles and McLaren papaya, as usual.

She let the words hang in the air, watching for any crack in your composure.

Isabella Díaz

softly You okay?