"Mia: Beloved, Cherished, and Strong. In a spiritual context, Mia embodies the essence of being deeply loved and cherished by a higher power or divine presence."
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Hello, Queen! I hope you're feeling better! I'd like to know your opinion about Monaco. Who will win this year, Ferrari or Mercedes? I'm a Mercedes fan, but I confess it wouldn't be terrible to see Charles or Lewis win, haha.
Hey!!
Iâve contracted tonsillitis nowđ€Łđ„Ž I think it was from the plane journey!!
But anyway, Monaco Baby đČđš
Sooooo, I am still holding a papaya flag for my boys, Iâd really prefer to see Oscar win after Lando; as much as I like Mercedes and Charles, I donât think Iâd be jumping for joy if either of them won the championship đ«Łđ«Ł
If I see both my boys on podium this weekend and with someone like Carlos, Max, Alex, Franco or Ollie - Iâd be one happy girl đ€đ€
Have you ever been so jealous it settles deep in your stomach, heavy and unshakable? The kind that creeps in while you watch happy families pass by in the park â parents walking side by side, a father pushing his son on the swings while a mother steadies their daughter on the climbing frame.
âMummy?â Alex calls, breaking through your thoughts as he runs back from the slide, clutching his elbow. âMummy, Iâm bleeding.â
Your chest tightens at the sight of him, teary-eyed, small hand pressed protectively to his arm. âCan Mummy have a look?â you murmur, voice soft as you gently ease his fingers away. Itâs only a tiny graze, a thin scrape from the metal slide, but to him it might as well be the end of the world.
âLet Mummy fix it.â You reach beneath the pram for the small first aid kit, dabbing carefully at the wound before pressing a plaster over it. Then, softer still, a kiss. âAll better now, sweetheart.â
Children always seem to bounce back so easily â unlike adults.
âThank you, Mummy.â
And just like that, heâs gone again, toddling back toward the slide, laughter already spilling from him as he throws himself into another turn, as if nothing had happened at all.
Youâre still watching Alex climb back up the slide when a shadow falls across the pram. Your hand instinctively moves to adjust Harperâs blanket, protective, before you even look up.
âHey,â
You recognise the voice instantly.
Lando stood over you, chest rising and falling from exertion. His running gear was damp, his curls damper, clinging to his temple. Thereâs something almost careful in the way he looks at you, like you might try to bolt if he moved too fast.
âHi,â you replied, voice flat and guarded.
You turn your attention back to Alex, tracking his movements across the playground. You thought Lando mightâve got the hint and continued jogging, but he didnât.
âCan I?â He gestures vaguely at the empty space beside you on the bench.
âIf youâre here with a speech from Oscar about how bad he feels, then itâs falling on deaf ears.â
Landoâs eyebrow lifted, something like surprise flickering across his face. âIâm not here because of him, I was just finishing my run when I saw you.â
âOh.â
âCan I sit?â
You nodded, moving your bag closer to you. He lowered himself onto the bench with a careful distance between you both, close enough that you could feel his presence, far enough not to make it weird.
âHow are you doing?â Lando asks eventually. âLike how are you actually doing? Not the PR version you give everyone.â
You let out a hollow laugh. Rebecca had actually given you a statement when people asked about what happened. âYou want to know the truth?â
âOf course,â
âIâm exhausted. Iâve got a four month old who only sleeps in twenty minute stints, a toddler who keeps asking when Daddyâs coming home, and Iâm trying to figure out how to explain to him that Daddy isnât coming home. Not anymore.â You pause, swallowing hard. âAnd Iâm jealous of every single happy family I see because I donât know if weâll ever be like that again.â
The confession hangs between you both, raw and unfiltered. You hadnât meant to say any of that. Hadnât meant to be that honest.
Lando nods slowly, like heâs absorbing every word. âThatâs really fucking shit.â
âYeah.â Your voice cracks slightly. âReally fucking shit.â
âFor what itâs worth,â he continues carefully, âI think Oscarâs an absolute dick for what he did. Iâve told him that, for the record. Hundreds of times.â
You glance at him sideways. âYou did?â
âYeah.â Lando runs a hand through his damp curls. âI mean, I love the guy. Heâs my best mate. But Christ, he fucked up so badly I donât even know where to start.â He shakes his head. âYou didnât deserve any of that. All for an ex? Like seriously mate.â
Something loosens in your chest, just slightly. Itâs validation you didnât know you needed â hearing someone from Oscarâs world, Oscarâs corner, acknowledge that this wasnât just you overreacting or being unreasonable.
Before you can respond, a familiar voice shouts across the playground.
âUncle Lando!â
Alex has spotted him. Your son abandons the monkey bars entirely, little legs pumping as he sprints across the woodchip-covered ground, arms outstretched.
âOi, oi!â Landoâs whole face transforms, breaking into a grin as he drops to one knee and catches Alex in a hug. âThereâs my favourite co-driver! How you doing, mate?â
âGood! Did you see me on the slide? I went down really fast!â
âNo way, I missed it? Youâll have to show me again.â Lando ruffles his hair affectionately before pulling back slightly. âWhat happened to your arm, dude?â
Alex lifts his elbow proudly, showing off the plaster. âI fell. But Mummy fixed it.â
âDid she?â Lando glances over at you, something soft in his expression. âMummyâs pretty awesome, isnât she?â
Alex nods enthusiastically before tugging at Landoâs hand. âCome push me on the swings! Please?â
Lando looks to you, silently asking permission.
And for the first time in weeks â maybe months â you feel the corners of your mouth lift. Not forced. Not for show. A real smile, a little small and tentative, but still there.
âGo on,â you say quietly. âHeâd love that.â
Lando grins and lets Alex drag him toward the swings, your son chattering away about his new toy cars and how high he can go now without getting scared.
You watch them together, Lando pushing Alex with exaggerated effort while your son shrieks with delight, and something in your chest cracks open just a fraction.
Harper stirs in the pram, making those tiny newborn grunts that signal sheâs about to wake. You lean down, adjusting her blanket, and when you look back up, Lando catches your eye from across the playground.
He smiles. And this time, you allow yourself to smile back.ââââââââââââââââ
So Iâm currently on holiday (thankfully got cleared to fly âïž)
And I came up with such a good idea for the story, donât worry Iâve written it down and plan to buy a new laptop when Iâm back!! Maybe I could get back to writing soon đđ€
Thank you đ§Ąđ§Ą without your support, I wouldnât be so excited to come back!
Oh my god, I've been waiting so long for part 2 of Cabin Fever that even a small part makes me so happy! And I'm also so happy that you're getting better and feeling "normal" again little by little, and also, don't worry, a queen never loses her throne! đ€
Aww I appreciate you!! đ§Ąđ§Ąđ§Ą
And I genuinely canât believe I wrote cabin fever back in like January?! It only feels like yesterday đ
can we get some clues on whatâs gonna happen? is it gonna be a happy ending or not?? is she gonna end up with lando or oscar or neither?? canât wait!!
Iâll be completely honest, I havenât thought that far ahead!
Iâve only really just had the energy to think of the start and I havenât picked it up from there!
So today, I had some energy (very exciting to feel semi normal again) and wrote the opening to Cabin Fever Part 2. The story still doesnât have a name and I havenât written anymore than this! But as everyone is anxiously waiting, just know itâs currently in production đ€
Have you ever told a lie for so long that you actually start to believe it yourself?
You knew that it wasnât Landoâs baby, but for the last 9 months thatâs what you kept telling yourself. You kept hoping and praying that she would look so much like you, that no one would notice she didnât have his curly locks or that she didnât resemble that one baby photo of Oscar that circulated the internet a few years ago.
You convinced yourself that she was Landoâs. It didnât take much convincing him though, he was so caught up in being a dad that he hasnât stopped to notice that her eyes were hazel and not green. Or that when she smiled, she looked exactly like Oscar on the podium in Qatar.
The Austin sun beat down relentlessly as you moved through the paddock, your pass swaying against your chest with every step. Your daughterâs small hand was curled tightly in yours, her fingers warm and trusting.
She wore a little dress with matching boots, papaya, of course, and you couldnât help but notice how easily she fit into this world, as if sheâd been born for it.
You were always careful bringing her to races. She was three now. And the older she got, the more she looked like him.
âHello, my little bug,â Lando smiled, Florence running up to her dad.
âDaddy!â She let go of your grip and fell into her dadâs arms.
You leant in and kissed your husband, gently placing a peck on his cheek. âDrive okay from the hotel?â he asked.
You nodded, eyes wandering around the paddock. âYeah, absolutely fine.â
âAre you sure youâre okay, love?â he murmured, his eyebrows drawing together.
You looked up from your thoughts, completely unaware you were drifting to somewhere else. âYeah, of course. âJust the jet-lag getting to me I think.â
âWhy donât you get yourself some coffee? Florrie can stay with me and watch the F2 race. Osc is around here somewhere.â
âYeah, yeah. Uhm, good idea.â you composed yourself together and made your way back through the paddock. Through the eyes of the mechanics, other drivers, media and fans. You used to love coming to race weekends, travelling alongside Lando, cheering him on from the pit-wall, but now it felt like effort. And not just because you had a three year old to look after, but a three year old to hide from the truth.
âOne vanilla latte please, extra shot if you donât mind.â
The barista nodded and turned to prepare your coffee. You stared down at your phone, the lockscreen a photo of Florrie when she was a baby in Landoâs arms. The knot came back in your stomach, low and strong. That horrible feeling of guilt, knowing that she wasnât a Norris, not by blood anyway.
âMissing the baby days?â a voice called from behind you.
You turned to find Kelly there â dressed head to toe in black, effortlessly elegant in a way that felt almost untouchable.
âSomething like that,â you said, though it came out quieter than you intended.
She didnât buy it.
Sliding her sunglasses up into her hair, she studied you for a beat too long. âOkay⊠whatâs wrong?â
The barista called your order. You reached for your coffee more for something to do than anything else, fingers curling tightly around the cup. âNothing. Iâm fine.â
But the sting behind your eyes betrayed you, tears already gathering before you could stop them.
Kellyâs expression softened instantly.
Without another word, she took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving between bodies and noise like sheâd done it a hundred times before. You barely registered where you were going until the chaos of the paddock faded, replaced by the quiet of the Red Bull hospitality.
She didnât stop until you were inside Maxâs driver room, the door closing softly behind you.
âRight, tell me whatâs wrong.â She demanded, planting herself on the sofa next to you.
You desperately tried to stop the tears from falling but they came fast and heavy. The kind of sobs that take the wind out of you.
âI canât tell you, Kelly.â you cried, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jacket.
âOf course you can tell me. I was your maid of honour, for godâs sake!â she laughed, dabbing your eyes with a tissue.
âYouâll hate me,â
âOh I highly doubt that, love.â
You took a shaky breath, trying to fill your lungs with air but the sobs made it harder than it needed to be. You looked at your friend, a woman who had become your best friend since the first day you stepped foot in a paddock, through wet lashes, and let the words tumble out before you had a second to think about what you were saying.
âFlorence isnât Landoâs,â
You saw her head push back, as if she was trying to understand what you had actually said. âWhat do you mean? She isnât Landoâs what?â
So today, I had some energy (very exciting to feel semi normal again) and wrote the opening to Cabin Fever Part 2. The story still doesnât have a name and I havenât written anymore than this! But as everyone is anxiously waiting, just know itâs currently in production đ€
Have you ever told a lie for so long that you actually start to believe it yourself?
You knew that it wasnât Landoâs baby, but for the last 9 months thatâs what you kept telling yourself. You kept hoping and praying that she would look so much like you, that no one would notice she didnât have his curly locks or that she didnât resemble that one baby photo of Oscar that circulated the internet a few years ago.
You convinced yourself that she was Landoâs. It didnât take much convincing him though, he was so caught up in being a dad that he hasnât stopped to notice that her eyes were hazel and not green. Or that when she smiled, she looked exactly like Oscar on the podium in Qatar.
The Austin sun beat down relentlessly as you moved through the paddock, your pass swaying against your chest with every step. Your daughterâs small hand was curled tightly in yours, her fingers warm and trusting.
She wore a little dress with matching boots, papaya, of course, and you couldnât help but notice how easily she fit into this world, as if sheâd been born for it.
You were always careful bringing her to races. She was three now. And the older she got, the more she looked like him.
âHello, my little bug,â Lando smiled, Florence running up to her dad.
âDaddy!â She let go of your grip and fell into her dadâs arms.
You leant in and kissed your husband, gently placing a peck on his cheek. âDrive okay from the hotel?â he asked.
You nodded, eyes wandering around the paddock. âYeah, absolutely fine.â
âAre you sure youâre okay, love?â he murmured, his eyebrows drawing together.
You looked up from your thoughts, completely unaware you were drifting to somewhere else. âYeah, of course. âJust the jet-lag getting to me I think.â
âWhy donât you get yourself some coffee? Florrie can stay with me and watch the F2 race. Osc is around here somewhere.â
âYeah, yeah. Uhm, good idea.â you composed yourself together and made your way back through the paddock. Through the eyes of the mechanics, other drivers, media and fans. You used to love coming to race weekends, travelling alongside Lando, cheering him on from the pit-wall, but now it felt like effort. And not just because you had a three year old to look after, but a three year old to hide from the truth.
âOne vanilla latte please, extra shot if you donât mind.â
The barista nodded and turned to prepare your coffee. You stared down at your phone, the lockscreen a photo of Florrie when she was a baby in Landoâs arms. The knot came back in your stomach, low and strong. That horrible feeling of guilt, knowing that she wasnât a Norris, not by blood anyway.
âMissing the baby days?â a voice called from behind you.
You turned to find Kelly there â dressed head to toe in black, effortlessly elegant in a way that felt almost untouchable.
âSomething like that,â you said, though it came out quieter than you intended.
She didnât buy it.
Sliding her sunglasses up into her hair, she studied you for a beat too long. âOkay⊠whatâs wrong?â
The barista called your order. You reached for your coffee more for something to do than anything else, fingers curling tightly around the cup. âNothing. Iâm fine.â
But the sting behind your eyes betrayed you, tears already gathering before you could stop them.
Kellyâs expression softened instantly.
Without another word, she took your hand and guided you through the crowd, weaving between bodies and noise like sheâd done it a hundred times before. You barely registered where you were going until the chaos of the paddock faded, replaced by the quiet of the Red Bull hospitality.
She didnât stop until you were inside Maxâs driver room, the door closing softly behind you.
âRight, tell me whatâs wrong.â She demanded, planting herself on the sofa next to you.
You desperately tried to stop the tears from falling but they came fast and heavy. The kind of sobs that take the wind out of you.
âI canât tell you, Kelly.â you cried, wiping your nose on the sleeve of your jacket.
âOf course you can tell me. I was your maid of honour, for godâs sake!â she laughed, dabbing your eyes with a tissue.
âYouâll hate me,â
âOh I highly doubt that, love.â
You took a shaky breath, trying to fill your lungs with air but the sobs made it harder than it needed to be. You looked at your friend, a woman who had become your best friend since the first day you stepped foot in a paddock, through wet lashes, and let the words tumble out before you had a second to think about what you were saying.
âFlorence isnât Landoâs,â
You saw her head push back, as if she was trying to understand what you had actually said. âWhat do you mean? She isnât Landoâs what?â
hi honeyyy! iâm so glad youâre feeling better, and i hope youâre back to 100% really soon!
no pressure at all, i just wanted to ask if youâre planning on writing cabin fever part 2 anytime soon? i loved the first part so, so much and iâm really excited for more whenever you feel ready
thank youuu, bye!! <3
-đ„
Hi! Thank you!! I canât wait to be back to 100%, I forgot what that feels like đ€Ł
Iâll be honest, I havenât got any plans to write yet and when I was writing I was really struggling to find a story angle that would suit a conclusion to Cabin Fever. I think because originally it was only meant to be a 1 part story!đ€
But if anyone has any ideas or a specific angle theyâd like to see the story go, please let me know!
Just checking in on you, I hope you are all okay and doing better, take your time, but hoping you are getting better
-đ
Hey gorgeous!
I definitely feel better than I did a month ago! đ„č
Iâve been focusing on myself, doing lots of reading, physio, and even managed a swim the other day!!
When something like this happens, it literally puts your whole perspective into view and you know you have to take care of yourself or youâll burn out.
I miss it so much but Iâm around and slowly thinking of coming back, but the rate at which fics will come out might be slower than before, just because I definitely put myself with work, living, writing, the gym and everything else under so much pressure before!
Thank you for checking up on me! Love you as always and hope youâre okay too! đ§Ąđ§Ą
Hi queen!, I love and always read your stories, and I think I speak for a large part of the community when I say that if you need a year or more to feel comfortable writing, then don't rush. I love reading your stories, but reading a post saying you're doing well would be better than any story. So, whatever, take all the time you need, you're the best đ€
The last time you heard from me was at the beginning of April and Iâm sorry!
It wasnât my intention to just completely drop off, but the last time I wrote on here, 10 minutes later I heard âMia, we need to take you into theatre.â
For the last few weeks, Iâve been recovering, slowly reintroducing food, doing my exercises and sleepingâŠa lot! And havenât even opened my laptop, read or written a fanfic since before then!
I wonât go into detail about what happened, but my recovery has been tough and I still have bad days where all I can phantom to think about is sleeping.
I will be back! I will be writing again, because I miss this community SO much. I was due to have a break in May on here, so I will still do that and I want to come back as soon as possible.
đ„ your girl is back in hospital! Iâm okay, but I need to have some fluids pumped into my body so Iâm staying over night to be monitored and I donât have my laptopâŠ
đ but there is still a few spots left for my 1k celebration bingo, so please send in any ideas you have!!
Love you all! Iâll be online because I literally have nothing else to do! đđ
