The race weekend was finally upon them, and as the hours ticked away, both Lando and Oscar found themselves struggling to focus on the usual frenzy of pre-race preparations. Despite the excitement and the roar of engines in the distance, there was an underlying heaviness in the air, a sense of anticipation for what was to come once the race ended.

Today wasn't just another race. It was the day they would honor Thea—not just after the race in the quiet ceremony, but also in the very midst of the action itself, a tribute woven into the very fabric of their world.

⸻

As the cars lined up on the grid, both Lando and Oscar stood in their positions, looking out at the horizon where the sun hung low, casting long shadows across the track. But neither of them were truly focused on the race at that moment. Their thoughts were elsewhere—on Thea, on the emptiness they both felt, and on the tribute they had planned for her.

The idea had been simple at first. The entire team, as well as their fellow drivers, had agreed on a shared moment of remembrance during the race. But for Lando and Oscar, it meant more than just a passing thought; it was an opportunity to show Thea's spirit was embedded into the very pulse of their sport.

As the final seconds of the grid preparations ticked away, Lando exchanged a glance with Oscar, who nodded, giving him a small but resolute smile. The plan was in motion.

At the signal for the formation lap, Lando and Oscar both held their steering wheels with a quiet determination. But as the lights began to flash, they made a subtle, yet unmistakable move: on their steering wheels, they had written Thea's  name. Each of them had marked it in their own way, as if it were their own personal secret: a small "T" written carefully by Lando, a heart surrounding Thea's  name drawn by Oscar. It wasn't visible to anyone else on the track, but it was a gesture meant for them, for Thea.

The race began in the usual frenzy, but the moment wasn't lost on the other drivers. Each of them had agreed on their own individual gesture: George Russell subtly raised his hand during the formation lap in a small salute, Charles Leclerc mouthed "I love you" toward the sky as he entered his first turn, and Daniel Ricciardo could be seen lightly tapping his hand against the top of his steering wheel as though he was offering a quiet prayer to Thea before the chaos of the race fully unfolded.

During the opening laps, the tension between the drivers was palpable. It wasn't just the usual tension of a race; there was a weight behind it—an unspoken recognition of the tribute that had already begun. It wasn't just the competition. It was a reminder that they were racing for something more than points today.

At every major turn, each of the drivers took a moment to glance at their surroundings, as though Thea's presence had filled the paddock itself. A soft breeze swept through the track at one point, and Lando felt an inexplicable warmth rush through him as though Thea was reaching out to him in the most unexpected way. For that moment, the race didn't feel as fierce as usual. Every driver seemed to be racing for a different reason, racing to honor the little girl who had filled their world with so much light.

⸻

On lap 25, a moment of silence washed over the track. Oscar, in second place, took a deep breath, allowing himself a brief moment of peace amidst the chaos. Without warning, his fingers, steady and practiced, traced Thea's name once again on the steering wheel. His grip tightened for a split second, a silent promise made to her. He knew she was watching, knew that in her own way, Thea was with him at that moment.

His radio crackled to life. "Oscar, everything's good. Just focus on the race."

But Oscar didn't hear the words. He didn't need to. For a fleeting second, he could almost hear her laugh, feel her tiny fingers clutching his hand once again. Thea had always been there, her smile lighting up even the most difficult of days.

⸻

Meanwhile, Lando fought against the surge of emotion swelling inside him as he maneuvered through the turns. His heart felt heavier than ever, his mind drifting to Isla. On lap 32, as he approached a particularly sharp corner, he leaned slightly forward, his helmet pressing against the padding as he pushed through the turn.

In that moment, a simple gesture. A soft tap of his gloved hand against the wheel. His tribute to her. His Thea.

The moment was over quickly. It had to be. The race wasn't going to stop for him, nor for anyone else. But in the stillness of that split second, Lando felt a sense of connection that would remain long after the race ended.

⸻

When the checkered flag waved, signaling the end of the race, there was no celebration from the drivers. For a brief moment, everything seemed suspended, as if the world was holding its breath. Even though the race was over, the sense of loss still lingered in the air, as if Thea was somehow still present, guiding them toward something greater.

Lando finished in the top five, but it didn't matter. He barely registered the positions. Oscar, too, finished with strong performance, but his mind was already focused on the tribute that would follow—the one that would make all the pain worth something.

They all filed into the paddock together, and it was there, as they walked back to their team areas, that the true tribute would begin.

⸻

The entire paddock had gathered in a quiet section near the motorhomes, where a large screen displayed photos of Thea over the years, from the day she had first walked into the paddock, holding Lando's hand, to the last time she'd smiled brightly on a rainy race day.

Lando and Oscar stood together, their hands intertwined, as the other drivers gathered around them, forming a circle. Each one of them had something to say. They each had a memory.

Max Verstappen, usually reserved, was the first to speak, his voice surprisingly steady. "Thea was the light in the paddock. She was pure joy. I'll never forget the way she called me 'Uncle Max,' so seriously, like she was the one in charge. It's a memory that'll stay with me forever."

Daniel Ricciardo stood next, his eyes glistening. "She reminded me not to take life too seriously. Every time I saw her, it was like she gave me permission to laugh, to have fun. She was two, but she carried the weight of joy on her tiny shoulders. She made us all better."

Sebastian Vettel, usually the quiet one, was next. "She was only with us for a short time, but she made her mark. She taught me that joy isn't just something we seek—it's something we give. And she gave us so much."

Each driver took their turn, their words weaving together into a tapestry of love, memory, and shared loss. The speeches were followed by the release of white balloons, each one carrying a note, a memory, a piece of Isla's spirit. The balloons soared toward the sky, disappearing into the horizon as the crowd stood in respectful silence.

When it came time for Lando and Oscar to speak, they stepped forward together. The pain was still raw, still too fresh, but they found the strength to speak.

"We wanted to thank Thea for showing us what true love is," Lando began, his voice trembling but firm. "She was the light in our lives, and she always will be. We're going to carry her with us—every race, every moment. She's never truly gone."

Oscar followed, his voice choked with emotion. "She's always going to be with us, in every moment we share, in every race we run. Our hearts are broken, but we know she's out there, somewhere, watching over us. We love you, Isla. Always."

And as the final balloon ascended into the sky, the drivers stood together, united by their love for a little girl who had brought them all together in a way they never could have imagined.

The following days were filled with the bustle of preparations for the upcoming race, but for Lando and Oscar, it felt like an eternity. Every moment was weighed down by the loss of Thea, and every moment leading up to the tribute felt like an anchor they couldn't escape. But amidst all the pain, they knew they had to find a way to honor her—not just in words, but in actions.

In quiet moments alone, both Lando and Oscar had found solace in their memories of Thea. They would sit together, talking softly about her, sharing small stories they had kept close to their hearts, trying to keep her memory alive in the midst of their grief. And in one of those moments, the idea had come to them—something simple, something that would be theirs and Isla's alone.

⸻

It had been one of Thea's favorite songs. She would hum it when she played with her toys, her small hands tapping out the rhythm, her innocent voice singing the words in her own little way. "You are my sunshine, my only sunshine... you make me happy when skies are gray."

It was a song that Lando and Oscar would sing to her when she couldn't sleep, her tiny hands curled up against their chests, her eyes closing as the gentle lullaby worked its magic. It was their song—a symbol of the love they had for her and a symbol of the light she had brought into their lives.

Lando had been the one to bring it up first, the idea catching him off guard as he absentmindedly hummed the song while waiting for a press event.

"What if we sing it to her?" Lando asked softly, his gaze drifting toward the window of their motorhome.

Oscar turned to him, a questioning look in his eyes. "Sing it? But... she's gone."

Lando swallowed hard, emotions swirling inside him. "I know. But we sing it because it's what we did for her. She loved it, Oscar. And maybe... maybe it will help us remember her, in a way."

Oscar was quiet for a moment, the idea settling in his chest. Slowly, a soft smile tugged at his lips. "Yeah... I think she'd like that. She'd love to hear it one more time. We'll sing it for her. For us."

And so, the plan was set in motion. After the tribute in the paddock, after the ceremony with the drivers, Lando and Oscar would sing "You Are My Sunshine" in Isla's memory, as a final, tender act of love.

⸻

The tribute was also going to extend to their helmets. Lando and Oscar had always been meticulous in their designs, but this time, their helmets would carry a piece of Thea with them. A piece of their hearts.

Lando's helmet was going to be a soft, pastel yellow—almost the exact color of the sun that Thea had always loved. The base of the helmet was a subtle blend of light yellows and whites, with gentle swirls of gold throughout, reflecting the warmth that Thea had brought into their lives. On the top of the helmet, in bold, flowing letters, were the words "You Are My Sunshine," written just as they had sung to her every night.

The back of the helmet featured a delicate illustration of a little girl with golden hair, her arms outstretched toward the sky, as if she were flying. It was a simple but perfect tribute to Thea's  spirit—the way she had always been full of joy and wonder, always reaching for something greater.

Oscar's helmet mirrored Lando's in its simplicity, but with his own personal touch. The base of the helmet was a soft, muted pink, a color that reminded them both of Thea's  favorite dress—the one she wore to the paddock the first time they had taken her there. It was a color that made her shine.

Along the side of Oscar's helmet were small, hand-painted daisies, Thea's favorite flower. They were scattered delicately, almost like they were caught in the wind, swirling around the helmet as though they were part of Isla's very essence. A small drawing of a hand reaching out toward the sun adorned the back of the helmet, a final, gentle nod to their favorite memory of Thea—when she'd stretch out her hand, palm open, as if she could touch the stars.

But it was the inscription on the front that would hit the hardest. In elegant script, the words "You Are My Sunshine" were written just above the visor, encircling the helmet like a halo. A final reminder that Isla was their sunshine, always.

The helmets would not only protect them during the race, but also carry with them the memory of their daughter. She would be with them every lap, every corner, every moment of speed and adrenaline. The helmets were their way of taking Thea with them into the race itself.

⸻

As race day drew closer, Lando and Oscar continued their preparations, both mentally and emotionally. They had decided to keep their helmets a private surprise for the tribute ceremony. They didn't want to reveal them until the moment felt right.

But what they didn't know was that the other drivers had planned their own surprise tribute. It had been orchestrated quietly, in secret, by a few of the drivers who had felt compelled to do something special, something that showed their collective support and love for Lando, Oscar, and Thea.

It all began with an idea from Charles Leclerc, who suggested that each of the drivers would wear something subtle to honor Thea during the race—something that Lando and Oscar would recognize, but no one else would understand until after the fact.

During the formation lap, each driver had discreetly altered their race suits or gloves. Some wore a small, yellow ribbon on their left arm, a tribute to the sunshine that Thea had been in their lives. Others had yellow stitching on their gloves, or a tiny drawing of a sun on the backs of their hands.

But the most touching gesture came at the end of the race. As the drivers finished, and Lando and Oscar crossed the finish line, they were met with an unexpected sight. The drivers, as they gathered around to congratulate them, had all raised their gloves, showing the small yellow sun that had been stitched onto the cuffs of their race suits.

It was a gesture that had taken Lando and Oscar by surprise. They hadn't known about it, hadn't expected it. But as they looked around at their fellow drivers—Max Verstappen, Daniel Ricciardo, George Russell, and all the others—they saw it: the yellow suns, the subtle reminders that Thea's  spirit had touched all of them.

Tears welled up in Lando's eyes, and Oscar's hand trembled as he reached out to shake Daniel's hand. "You... you did this for her?" Oscar asked, his voice breaking.

Daniel smiled softly, his eyes filled with unshed tears. "We did it for you. For Thea. She'll always be a part of us."

Lando and Oscar could barely speak, overwhelmed by the gesture. It was a moment of profound love and support. The entire paddock, the entire Formula 1 family, had come together to show that Isla's legacy would never be forgotten.

⸻

As the sun began to set that evening, casting a golden glow over the paddock, Lando and Oscar stood side by side in front of the gathered crowd. Their helmets, adorned with the lyrics of their song, glinted softly in the fading light.

The drivers stood behind them, their presence a silent but powerful show of solidarity. The photos of Thea displayed around them, and the love for their little girl felt like it enveloped the entire space.

And then, as planned, Lando and Oscar stood together, their voices blending together in a quiet, tender song.

"You are my sunshine, my only sunshine," Lando sang softly, his voice shaking but strong.

"You make me happy, when skies are gray," Oscar continued, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

The words carried through the paddock, a song of love and loss, of remembrance and hope. And as they reached the final verse, Lando's voice cracked, but they finished together:

"You'll never know dear how much we loved you... please don't take our sunshine away."

For a moment, everything was still. The only sound was the wind, carrying their song into the air, as though Thea herself was listening, watching over them.

And in every sunrise and every whisper of the wind, her light endures—our eternal sunshine, forever warming our hearts.

The End