Chapter Text
His parents said that he would know.
They said he would wake up feeling so close to completion, but a deep yearning, a desperate anticipation, would settle into his bones. They talked about the heart aching for its other half, the physical, unrelenting pain in their chests that wouldn’t lift.
Ever since turning 16, Lando has waited, dreading that pain in his chest; the one that would come once he first dreamt with his soulmate.
But his parents also talked about a warmth.
One that would wind its way through his body, nestling next to that pain. Contentment, the constant presence of his soulmate that would make the unrelenting pain worth it, because that warmth meant that his other half is somewhere, out there. His parents called it reassurance; Lando always pictured it something closer to hope.
When he was much younger, Lando would ask his mum over and over again how it felt, the first time she knew his dad was her soulmate. It was his favourite bedtime story.
When they first met, Lando’s parents didn’t know they were soulmates. No one ever remembered their soulmate dreams, not until they fell in love. Whenever his mum reminded him of this fact, a little Lando would scrunch his face up and stomp his foot, declaring that it was stupid, and unfair, and how would Lando find his soulmate without remembering his dreams?
His mother would smile fondly and shrug; it was just how the universe worked.
She never shied away from telling Lando about the pain, not just in her chest, but when she was in her dreams too. She once described holding Lando’s dad, begging for their awake selves to fall in love, just as they had done in their dreams. Lando asked why being in love in the dream doesn’t count when they’re awake. His mother simply shrugged again.
But then she would tell Lando how easy it was to fall in love with his dad, how worth it it all was when she finally remembered her dream, the certainty that finally came.
Lando’s mum began the story with the pain, then the warmth, but it would always finish with the completion.
Soulmate dreams always occurred in an idealised setting, one that was a combination of both soulmates’ favourite things. His parents' dreams changed location a few times, but the most common was a cozy living room, sofas, filled with blankets and cushions, all facing a warm, glowing fireplace. His mother called it lovely, his dad called it intimate. Lando knew though, that their living room at home is based on their dreams, a constant reminder of that warm intimacy.
Lando wants something like that, but he knows that nothing he loves is quite that warm, or loving.
Instead, Lando’s love is fast, relentless, tiresome. He knows what yearning feels like, out on the track. The desperation sits there, clawing at his throat as he pines for more than a soulmate, but also to live out his dreams.
Motor racing is a ruthless game of will, and Lando knows he wants it badly enough, a seat at the Formula One table. He feels the yearning, it feels like the same pain his mother described.
But he also feels fear. Racing feels like his soulmate, how can Lando love anything, anyone, the way he loves his sport?
The fear of not being enough, too focused on racing, too ambitious, too wild, sits in Lando’s head. The craving that he feels for racing, if that is what he should feel for his soulmate instead, then maybe Lando doesn’t have one.
Maybe, Lando will be alone, with racing as his only solace.
His parents call him silly for thinking it, but the anxiety remains. Lando knows, logically, that soulmates are inherent to humans. The universe dictates that his desire for a soulmate means he will have a soulmate. It’s the pattern that scientists have researched for millennia.
But still, Lando worries that his devotion to racing will undermine his desire for a soulmate, his devotion to a theoretical second half.
The anxiety has been the same every night since he turned 16, over a year of waiting for the universe to finally grant him mercy from the endless anticipation.
—
It happens on a Thursday, a week before the European F3 season opener.
Lando’s glad it happened in his own room, his own bed, instead of some too-cold, too-clean hotel room. A hotel could never preserve the post-dream warmth, not like his own home could.
Lando knows that it’s a dream, because he wakes up refreshed and calm, instead of the growing dread that builds as the upcoming season crawls closer. The scenery helps, too.
He’s on a track, somewhere nondescript, but Lando can hear the crashing of waves against a beach, can taste the salt in the air, as it mingles with the vague smell of burnt rubber and citrus. Immediately surrounding the track are fields of flowers. Orange, yellow, red and a million other colours burst out from the acres of green grass, until it finally gives way to a beach. The sun shines from above, gentle despite the lack of any clouds in the sky.
The track itself doesn’t exist outside of this dream, he thinks. It’s too big to be a karting track, and Lando, who spent a whole summer memorising every single track on the F1 calendar, doesn’t recognise the long straight he’s stood on. However, while Lando longs to walk the track, to search for any recognisable features, he knows he shouldn’t. Something is telling him to wait, just a little bit longer.
The location of a soulmate dream is said to be a manifestation of what both soulmates love, their favourite things. Lando guesses that the rest of the surroundings are his soulmate’s, while he’s left with just a track to share. Even the dream knows racing is his first and only love, so far, at least.
But it’s where they will meet, for the first time, Lando can feel it. Maybe that means the track is for both of them. Maybe his soulmate will understand the pull, the desperation, the obsession he feels towards racing.
Maybe they’re the same.
Lando’s so caught up in his stream of thoughts that he doesn’t notice the tentative footsteps approaching from behind him, so he startles when he hears a clearing of the throat at his back.
He doesn’t turn around. Not immediately.
He’s not scared.
It’s only his whole future standing behind him, quietly, patiently waiting for Lando to turn around. Lando had to wait for over a year, it’s only fair that his soulmate waits a few more seconds for him to gather himself.
Lando takes a deep breath, the salty air feels more refreshing than icy water on a hot summer day. It stills his racing thoughts, his remaining insecurities.
He turns around.