The episode starts with scenes that Drive to Survive episodes seem obsessed by, helicopter shots, overhead cameras panning across Albert Park
RD’s voice begins playing as the montage plays.
“Formula 1 races are worth 25 points, but for some, they’re worth much more than that.”
The camera jumps to Lily somehow failing to open a bottle of water before awkwardly staring at the camera
“You’re gonna delete that right?”
The camera shakes side to side
“Well netflix are a bunch of cunts aren’t they?”
Lily gets settled in a Netflix interview chair wearing a black NMIXX team polo.
A producer off-camera says, “Whenever you’re ready.”
Lily stares directly into the lens, then claps the slate.
“Hi. I’m Lily Jin Morrow. Driver for NMIXX Racing.”
Then she smiles.
“And apparently the emotional support animal of an entire continent this weekend.”
Title card flashes, an Nmixx car getting a pitstop, before driving off
DRIVE TO SURVIVE: THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME
“What are your hopes coming into the season?” The producer asks off screen
“Oh, we’re starting with easy questions.”
An awkward silence fills the room.
“I mean, obviously we’d like to fight for wins.”
“We’d like podiums.”
“We’d like points.”
“And ideally we’d like all four wheels attached for the entire year. But I’d settle for 3”
The producer bursts into laughs.
“You laugh.”
She points directly at the camera.
“You laugh.”
Another point.
“But I don’t think you don’t understand how haywire my trust issues go.”
Cut to pre-season testing footage.
Mechanics.
Garages.
Cars running.
A montage of NMIXX looking surprisingly competitive.
RD narrates.
“After an encouraging end to last season, expectations surrounding NMIXX have never been higher.”
Cut.
Lily in interview.
“Oh, expectations.”
She forces a smile and shoots finger guns at the camera.
“Love those.”
“So, what does it mean to be in your home race.” The producer asks off screen.
“It’s like the whole country decided they collectively raised me. Last week, I walked into a coffee shop and one guy shouted “That’s our Lily!”.
She points at herself
“I’m not our Lily. Half the time, I’m barely my Lily.”
The episode cuts to a montage, Australian talk shows talking about Lily, Australian fans wearing Nmixx Merch. Their dogs also somehow wearing Nmixx Merch.
Lily walks across the paddock, stopping near the barricade as she takes a pen out, taking merch from clamoring fans
“LILY!"
She turns.
"Can you sign my hat?"
She takes the hat.
"Nah mate."
The fan's face immediately falls.
Lily keeps a straight face.
"You've got me confused with Oscar. He's in the other tent. Probably naming a wasp or something ."
The fan starts laughing.
Lily signs the hat anyway.
More fan interactions.
A little girl hands her a drawing.
Lily studies it seriously.
"Wow."
The girl beams.
"That's really good."
She points.
"Is this me?"
The little girl nods.
Lily points to the stick figure.
"Why am I so short?"
The little girl thinks.
Then replies.
"Because you're in the car."
Lily pauses.
"That actually makes sense."
The girl hands Lily another drawing.
Lily stands atop the podium, trophy in hand in Australia.
Lily shoots the camera an awkward smile.
“Yeah, no pressure.”
“Alright, thanks for the hard work guys!” Lily smiles and bows at the crew as they wrap up filming for the day.
Heading back to the garage, her smile falters for a moment, before catching a bottle thrown at her
“You’re corny when you’re on camera, y’know that?” You chuckle.
She twists the cap off.
“I am providing content.”
“You called Netflix a bunch of cunts.”
“They were though.”
You snort.
She points triumphantly.
“See? Content.”
The smile stays on her face.
Then it fades as she turns
Not completely.
Just enough.
You catch it because you’ve spent the better part of two seasons learning all the different versions of Lily.
There’s interview Lily, fan Lily, race Lily.
Then there’s this Lily
No one really sees this Lily.
Except you.
The garage is busy on Friday.
The pit wall is drowned in noise, of engineers talking, mechanics moving about.
Tyre data everywhere.
Lily sits in the cockpit, sipping from a juice box while you go over setup changes.
“Turn 9’s still biting.”
“Yep we saw, we’ll change the front wing angle for FP2.”
“Rear’s moving too much.”
“Got it, we’ll adjust the tyre camber slightly.”
Lily narrows her eyes as she looks at you
“You agreeing with me this much is suspicious. Did you fall into the toilet and emerge as a new man?”
“Trying something new.”
“Being emotionally mature? Don’t. It’s weird.”
You laugh.
She smiles despite all the nerves
It feels victorious
Friday night.
The garage empties.
The paddock slowly goes quiet.
You stay behind to finish reviewing long-run data.
Partially because somebody has to.
Really because you already know who’s still here.
The simulator room light is on.
You find Lily sitting cross-legged in a chair, staring at telemetry.
She doesn’t look up when you walk in.
“You’re supposed to be asleep.”
“Counterpoint.”
“Do you just think counterpoints are the conversational equivalent of an Uno reverse?”
“Counterpoint.”
You sit beside her.
The screen shows dozens of lap overlays.
Tiny differences measured in thousandths.
“Staring at this data isn’t gonna help.”
“I know.”
“Lily.”
“I know.”
The room falls quiet.
Outside, Melbourne hums softly beyond the circuit.
Eventually she exhales.
“You ever get tired of hearing about it?”
“Hearing about what?”
“My home race.”
You lean back.
“Not really.”
“I am.”
Her voice comes out quieter now.
“They keep acting like it’s supposed to be magical.”
She taps the screen absentmindedly.
“What if it’s just another race?”
“Then it’s just another race.”
“What if I screw it up?”
“Then you screw up. No big deal.”
She shakes her head.
“Real motivational man, let’s add that to the words of wisdom.”
You study her for a moment.
The tired eyes.
The dark circles.
The way she keeps pretending everything’s fine.
Then you reach over and close the telemetry window.
She immediately gasps.
“You closed it.”
“You’ve memorized it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Lily.”
A pause.
“…yeah.”
You stand.
“Hotel.”
She points accusingly.
“You’re not my dad.”
“Correct.”
“You’re not my boss.”
“Spot on again.”
She narrows her eyes.
“Then why do I suddenly feel guilty?”
“Hotel.”
She stares.
You stare back.
Eventually she groans dramatically and gets up.
“This is oppression.”
“Goodnight, Lily.”
She takes three steps toward the door, then stops.
“Hey.”
A pause.
“Thanks.”
She leaves before you can answer.
Saturday
You know it’s going to be a difficult day before Lily even says a word.
Because she gets to the garage early.
Which is weird.
Because Lily usually shows up fashionably late.
Which is what you’d say because you have terrible fashion.
When you arrive, the sun is barely up over Albert Park.
The paddock is quiet.
Most of the team isn’t even there yet.
Lily is.
Sitting cross-legged on top of a tyre stack.
Coffee untouched.
Telemetry open.
Staring at a screen.
You stop beside her.
“Morning.”
She jumps.
Her hand flies to her chest.
“Oh my god.”
“Dramatic much? You knew it was me.”
“I thought you were a mechanic.”
“Mechanics don’t wear team polos.”
She blinks.
“…fair.”
She pauses for just a moment.
“…can you sit down for a second?”
The question catches you slightly off guard.
You sit.
The paddock slowly wakes around you.
Forklifts.
Golf carts.
Distant conversations.
Birds somewhere over the lake.
Lily stares at the telemetry another few seconds.
Then quietly:
“After you banished me to the hotel. I couldn’t sleep.”
“How much?”
“Three hours.”
You wince.
“Yeah.”
“I think my brain is trying to eat itself.”
“You’re gonna be okay Lily.”
“You really think so?”
“Hey, remember, I’m always right.”
Lily chuckles, a genuine smile on her face as she nudges you in the shoulder
“How are you feeling?”
Lily smiles immediately.
“Great.”
The producer waits.
The smile stays.
A little too long.
A little too perfect.
Eventually Lily sighs.
“I’m lying.”
Cut.
By mid-morning, the crowds are enormous.
Everywhere Lily goes, somebody wants something.
A photo.
A signature.
A prediction.
A quote.
A smile.
Another smile.
One more smile.
You notice something around lunchtime.
She hasn’t eaten.
Again.
Not intentionally.
She’s just forgotten.
Again.
You eventually find her talking to a group of Australian journalists.
The second they’re done, you hand her a sandwich.
“Oh.”
A pause.
“…was I supposed to eat today?”
“I mean, it would be preferable.”
She unwraps it.
Takes a bite.
Keeps walking.
“Thanks.”
FP3 goes extremely well.
The car looks alive.
Lily finishes near the top of the timing sheets.
The garage starts getting excited.
Which is exactly when Lily starts getting nervous.
Because hope is dangerous.
Hope means expectations.
And expectations mean people can be disappointed.
You find her staring at a timing monitor after practice.
Arms folded.
Expression unreadable.
“P4.”
She nods.
“P4.”
“That’s good.”
“It is.”
The answer comes instantly.
Too instantly.
“I’m terrified.”
“You seem worried.” The producer asks off screen
“No.”
Producer waits.
Lily immediately caves.
“Okay maybe.”
“Why?”
She stares at the camera.
“Have you ever accidentally become important at your job? Try accidentally becoming important in your country.”
Qualifying approaches.
You kneel beside the cockpit before she heads out.
She looks calm.
Almost calm.
Except her knee keeps bouncing.
Fast.
Relentless.
You don’t mention it.
“Question.”
She immediately groans.
“What?”
“If you somehow forget how to drive in the next twenty minutes-”
“That’s not a question.”
“Can I tell people you died fighting a koala?”
A smile appears despite herself.
The knee stops bouncing.
Just for a second.
Q1.
Comfortable.
Easy.
The car has pace.
Lily has pace.
She advances without issue.
The crowd erupts every time she appears on screen.
Every sector.
Every lap.
Every mention from commentary.
She pretends not to notice.
Between sessions she sits on the floor beside the car.
Helmet in her lap.
Garage noise buzzing around her.
You sit beside her.
Not because she asks.
Because you know she won’t.
The silence settles naturally.
Eventually she leans her head back against the sidepod.
Eyes closed.
Just for a moment.
The sort of trust that sneaks up on people.
Not dramatic.
Not obvious.
Just there.
You hand her a bottle of water.
Without opening her eyes, she reaches for it.
Finds it immediately.
Like she’d known it was coming.
“Thanks.”
Her eyes finally open.
She looks over.
And for a second neither of you looks away.
Then a mechanic walks past and the moment disappears.
Q2 is brilliant.
Absolutely brilliant.
Purple middle sector.
The crowd loses its mind.
The timing screen flashes.
Commentators start talking about front rows.
Podiums.
Possibilities.
You watch as Lily tries not to combust
Five minutes before Q3 you find her standing alone behind the garage.
Away from cameras.
Away from fans.
Away from everybody.
Just breathing.
The noise of Albert Park feels distant here.
Muted.
She doesn’t notice you immediately.
Her hands are shaking slightly.
Tiny tremors.
Barely visible.
You only see them because you’re looking.
Because you’re always looking.
Eventually she notices you.
“Oh.”
“Hey.”
“Hey.”
Neither of you moves.
The moment hangs there quietly.
“I’m scared.”
You lean against the wall beside her.
“Yeah.”
She laughs softly.
“‘Yeah’?”
“‘Yeah.’”
A pause.
“You know what everybody keeps saying?”
“What?”
“‘Enjoy it.’”
She rolls her eyes.
“‘It’s your home race. Enjoy it.’”
Another laugh.
This one tired.
“What if I’m too busy trying not to screw it up?”
The words come out quietly.
You study her for a moment.
The nervous energy.
The pressure.
The exhaustion.
Everything she’s carrying.
“Do you know why everybody loves you?”
She groans immediately.
“Oh no.”
“Answer the question.”
“They don’t.”
“They do.”
She sighs dramatically.
“Fine.”
A beat.
“I don’t know.”
You shrug.
“Because you’re one of them.”
The answer surprises her.
You continue.
“Not because you’re perfect, or because you’re winning, not even because you’re Australian.”
She watches you carefully now.
“They love you because every time they see you, you look like somebody who’s trying really hard, and laughs through it all.”
Lily just stares at you.
“…that’s annoyingly nice.”
“I know. I’m the best.”
“Shut up.” She rolls her eyes as she throws the bottle at you
Her smile returns as she chuckles.
The kind that’s just for you.
Q3.
The lap begins beautifully.
Purple first sector.
Green second sector.
Everything building.
Everything coming together.
The crowd rising.
The timing delta climbing.
Then the rear steps out slightly.
Oversteer that steals away precious tenths.
She qualifies P7.
Good.
Strong.
Not what she wanted.
Not what she’d dreamed about.
Not what she’d spent sleepless nights imagining.
You hear her breathe out over the radio.
Amidst cheers from the garage, you lean to the microphone.
“You did your best there Lily, head down. Good lap.”
She laughs softly.
“You know why you’re my favourite? You always know when I’m upset.”
The comment catches you off guard.
“Yeah.”
The sun is setting when you finally find her again.
Most of the paddock has emptied.
The circuit sits quiet beyond the pit wall.
Orange light reflects off the lake.
Lily sits alone on the barrier.
Watching Turn 1.
Thinking.
You sit beside her.
Like you always do.
Neither of you speaks for a while.
The silence feels warm.
Comfortable.
Safe.
“I wanted more.”
You understand immediately.
“Yeah.”
She stares out at the track.
“You know the stupid part?”
“What?”
“If this was any other race, I’d be happy.”
You know what she means
P7 is good.
Strong.
Respectable.
But expectations have a way of changing things.
A cool breeze drifts across the circuit.
The last light of day settling over Albert Park.
Eventually Lily sighs.
Then unexpectedly leans sideways.
Just slightly.
Until her head leans on your shoulder
Neither of you comments on it.
Neither of you moves away.
You just sit there. Feel her shoulders rise and fall.
Sunday
At first, the episode makes it look like race day begins with sunshine spilling over Albert Park.
It doesn’t.
For Lily, race day begins sometime around four in the morning.
The first shot Netflix gets is from a security camera mounted in the corner of the simulator room. Grainy footage. Harsh fluorescent lights. Lily climbing out of the simulator, stretching, rubbing her eyes.
Then immediately climbing back in.
Later, during the interview, the producer asks her what time she finally left.
Lily stares at the camera.
“Define left.”
The cut comes before anyone can laugh.
The reality is that when you arrive at the simulator room carrying coffee, she’s still there.
Still trying to find time hidden in corners that have already given her everything they’re willing to give.
You place a coffee beside her.
Nothing.
A second coffee.
Still nothing.
A third.
Finally she notices.
“…why are there three coffees?”
“She’s alive.”
Lily jumps slightly.
“Oh my God.”
“You need to sleep.”
“I need grip.”
“You need to sleep.”
“I can sleep after the race.”
“No.”
“Counterpoint.”
“That’s not how counterpoints work Lily, we’ve been over this.”
She points at the screen.
“What if Turn Eleven is hiding three tenths?”
“It isn’t.”
“What if-”
You just stare at her now:
She slumps back in the seat.
“You know, you’re remarkably unsupportive.”
“I bought you three coffees.”
“That’s not emotional support.”
“It’s all I have to give.”
That earns a tired laugh.
For a moment she just sits there, looking at the circuit map on the monitor.
“What if I let everybody down?”
The question hangs in the room.
Just fear.
You pull a chair over and sit beside her.
“I’d be proud of you anyways.”
Lily doesn’t dare to turn to you.
“You always do that.”
“Do what?”
“Make things sound simple.”
You shrug.
“Usually because they are.”
She finally turns and just looks at you.
Then she rolls her eyes dramatically.
“God, you’re annoyingly reassuring.”
By the time the paddock fills up, Lily has switched back into public mode.
Fans.
Autographs.
Photos.
Questions.
More questions.
The grandstands are packed.
Everywhere she looks there are Australian flags.
Fans wearing NMIXX shirts.
Signs with her name.
People who’ve spent months building this race into something bigger than a race.
You lean against the sidepod.
“Thinking?”
“No.”
“That’s a lie.”
“No.”
“It’s a bad lie.”
“It’s actually one of my better ones.”
You glance toward the crowd.
“They seem excited.”
She follows your gaze.
“There are so many of them.”
“That’s generally how crowds work.”
“Wow, you’re really earning your engineering degree today.”
A smile appears.
Then disappears.
“They all came for me.”
The words are quiet.
Almost lost beneath the noise.
You crouch beside the cockpit.
“Hey.”
She looks over.
“They came because they want to watch you race.”
“What if I mess it up?”
“You won’t.”
“What if I do?”
You grin.
“Then we’ll blame the strategy team. Or Pirelli, we’ll see how it goes.”
That gets a laugh.
A real one.
“The drivers, now done with their formation lap, line up in the grid, TripleS’ Yoon Seoyeon in P1, NewJeans’ Kang Haerin in P2, LeSserafim’s Kim Chaewon in P3, and IVE’s Ahn Yujin in P4, but perhaps the headliner, Nmixx’s Lily Jin Morrow, hometown hero, starts in P7. Will she deliver? We’ll see very soon, as Formula One in 2026 is about to begin, and for the first time in 2026, lights out and away we go!”
The start is perfect.
Maybe the best she’s had all year.
P7 becomes P6 before Turn One.
P6 becomes P5 by Turn Three.
“This is some brilliant driving by the Aussie, as she gains two positions in the first 2 turns!
The crowd explodes.
On the radio, you hear the grin in her voice.
“Never doubted myself.”
“Don’t give me any of that, you doubted yourself for 6 hours”
“Fake news.”
Ahead, Yujin is within reach.
Just 4 tenths of a second away.
Then
“Oh no! A crash, as the ITZY car of Hwang Yeji crashes into the barrier at Turn 6! This will bring out a safety car, as the marshals remove the car from the track.”
Lily groans so loudly half the garage hears it through the radio.
“Nooooo. I was cooking.”
“You were.”
“I was Gordan Ramsay.”
“You’re at best, a sous chef.”
“You have no faith in me, it's almost sad.”
“Head down Lily.”
The race settles into a strange rhythm after the restart.
Tyre management.
Strategy.
Patience.
Three things Lily famously hates.
“My tyres suck.” Her voice rings through the radio
“They’re fine.”
“They suck. Like you.”
“Lily, I'm looking at the numbers, they’re literally fine. And I’ll have you know my mother had me tested.”
“They’re emotionally checked out. Like you.”
A few laps later:
“My tyres are dead.”
“Lily, your lap times are stable, your tires are not dying.”
“That’s because I’m the goat, but the tires told me themselves that they’re dying.”
“What did they tell you?”
“SAVE ME. Also your race engineer sucks.” Lily laughs through the radio as she takes on Turn 13
You barely hold back a chuckle.
“Copy.”
By lap thirty, the entire pit wall has become invested in the argument.
People are actively waiting for Lily's next tyre complaint.
One mechanic starts keeping count.
He's up to fourteen.
Then the strategy starts unfolding.
Cars ahead begin pitting.
Lily stays out.
One lap.
Two laps.
Three.
The old mediums somehow refuse to die.
The circuit evolves.
Grip appears.
Rubber builds.
The Australian sun has transformed the track.
Suddenly Lily's lap times are ridiculous.
Purple sectors.
Fastest laps.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Lily’s tyres have held on brilliantly, and now it’s all paying off.
“Do I box?” Lily asks through the radio
“Negative, your lap times are on par with those on fresh tyres, stay out, stay out.”
“Copy”
Eventually she inherits the lead.
Then extends it.
Five seconds.
Eight seconds.
Twelve.
Fifteen.
Twenty.
The crowd starts believing.
The pit wall starts believing.
Even Lily starts believing.
"Uh."
You hear her say.
"Yeah?"
"We might actually have something here."
You grin.
"There’s my Lily." You say without thinking. The whole pit wall stares at you. Lily is so shocked she almost goes straight into the barrier at Turn 6.
"What?"
"The optimism, I mean." You choke out.
"That’s not what I was asking about but sure I guess.”
Then comes the stop.
The race-winning stop.
The stop that should secure victory.
The wheel gun jams.
Everything falls apart.
Time disappears.
Seconds vanish.
The garage collectively experiences spiritual death.
"Oh no!"
"DISASTER FOR NMIXX!"
"THIS COULD COST HER THE WIN!"
Lily's response arrives.
Quiet.
Dangerously quiet.
"No."
A pause.
"No."
Another pause.
Then:
"NO!"
You immediately key the radio.
"Lily."
Silence.
"Lily, you’ve got this. We can still win this."
A beat.
"Copy."
She rejoins fifth.
Ten laps remaining.
Two seconds behind Minjeong.
Four behind the lead.
Fresh tyres.
A mountain to climb.
The crowd rises.
“Despite the horrible pitstop, Lily still finds herself P5, behind Seoyeon, Chaewon, Sakura and Minjeong. She’s still in this, ladies and gentlemen, and with a tyre advantage, it’s still anyone’s race.”
Within two laps she's on Minjeong.
The gap evaporates.
Ahead, the leaders start fighting.
Chaewon attacks Seoyeon into Turn 3.
Sakura attacks Chaewon into Turn 11.
Minjeong attacks Sakura into Turn 1.
Everyone loses time.
Everyone compromises exits.
Everyone forgets about the Australian missile rapidly approaching.
“What an aggressive move by Chaewon! A divebomb into Turn 6, as Seoyeon left her too much room! A horrible exit! She’s lost 3 positions now, as Sakura and Minjeong rocket past her!”
"Push push push." You lean forward into the mic.
"You know."
"What?"
"You only say that because you enjoy hearing yourself talk."
"Focus."
"I am focused."
A pause.
Then:
"You're handsome when you're stressed."
The entire pit wall freezes.
You nearly choke.
"LILY."
"What?"
"DRIVE."
She laughs.
And immediately overtakes Seoyeon.
P4.
The crowd explodes.
Ahead, Sakura and Minjeong are fighting desperately.
Side-by-side.
Wheel-to-wheel.
Neither willing to yield.
Minjeong attacks into Turn Three.
Sakura hangs on around the outside.
The pair are still alongside each other through the exit, compromising one another, neither noticing the rapidly approaching NMIXX behind them.
"Sakura holds on to that inside line as Minjeong hangs on around the outside! They're still side-by-side, neither driver giving an inch!"
Through the braking zone they arrive together.
Through the apex they arrive together.
Through the exit at Turn 4, they arrive together.
"OH HERE COMES THE NMIXX CAR!"
Three cars arrive at the corner.
One leaves in front.
"LILY SENDS IT DOWN THE INSIDE! THROUGH GOES MORROW! UNBELIEVABLE. SHE'S GOT THEM BOTH!"
The crowd detonates.
Sakura tries to fight back.
Minjeong tries to hold on.
Neither can.
The NMIXX powers away.
"FROM NOWHERE, LILY JIN MORROW GOES FROM FOURTH TO SECOND! AND LISTEN TO THIS CROWD!"
Albert Park becomes a wall of sound.
Because suddenly, impossibly, unbelievably...
The hometown hero can see the race leader.
Three laps remain.
Only Chaewon ahead.
Lily chases like a bat out of hell, slowly closing the gap.
The crowd can feel it.
Every lap.
Every corner.
Every sector.
The gap shrinking.
Final lap.
Chaewon defends aggressively.
Lily attacks.
Again.
And again.
And again.
Neither giving an inch.
Into Turn Three.
Nothing.
Turn Six.
Nothing.
Turn Nine.
Still nothing.
The two cars dance inches apart.
"THIS IS FOR THE LEAD OF THE AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX!"
"CHAWEON IS THROWING EVERYTHING AT THIS DEFENCE!"
Into Turn Eleven.
Lily feints inside with a dummy.
Chaewon covers.
Lily switches back.
Better traction.
More grip.
Fresh tyres.
The NMIXX surges alongside.
They're wheel-to-wheel.
Through Turn Twelve.
The crowd screaming.
The cars inches apart.
Then at Turn 13, Lily has the inside line
She edges just ahead.
"OH SHE'S THROUGH!"
"LILY JIN MORROW TAKES THE LEAD!"
"INCREDIBLE!"
The lead slowly builds up on the final lap, and eventually the final sector arrives.
And the commentator's voice is almost drowned out by the crowd.
"Through the final sector of Albert Park, the crowd are already on their feet! Listen to the roar around Melbourne! Just a few corners remain between Lily Jin Morrow and Australian sporting immortality! All weekend long, the weight of expectation rested on her shoulders, her team, her home race, her people, her moment, and she has answered every single doubt in sensational fashion! From seventh on the grid, through the chaos of an early safety car, through the heartbreak of a costly pit stop error, she refused to let this opportunity slip away! Lap after lap she chased them down, fearless when it mattered most, brilliant when the pressure was unbearable! And now, through the final corner, history awaits her! For the first time ever at Albert Park, this race is won by one of their own! Listen to this crowd! Listen to this moment! The crowd delivers a heavy serenade, as the hometown hero delivers! LILY JIN MORROW WINS THE AUSTRALIAN GRAND PRIX!"
The chequered flag falls.
The garage explodes.
People screaming.
Headsets flying.
Mechanics hugging complete strangers.
Someone is crying.
Possibly several people.
The radio remains silent for a few moments.
Then:
"...hey."
Her voice is small now.
Almost overwhelmed.
"Yeah?"
"I think."
A shaky laugh.
"I think that was pretty cool."
People hanging over fences.
Fans crying.
Strangers hugging strangers.
The podium ceremony.
Champagne spraying across the afternoon sky.
Lily standing on the top step.
Trophy raised above her head.
The sound almost drowns out RD's narration.
"For some, victory is just another statistic."
The image freezes.
Lily laughing during the anthem.
Champagne dripping from her hair.
"For others..."
The crowd roars again.
"...it's a dream they've carried since childhood."
Cut.
CLAP.
The interview room.
Only hours after the podium.
Lily still smells vaguely of champagne.
The producer can barely get the first question out.
"How does it feel to win your home race?"
She looks down at her hands.
Then back up.
"I don't think it's hit me yet."
The answer comes softly.
"The weird thing is..."
A small smile appears.
"I spent years imagining what it'd feel like."
She laughs.
"And apparently my imagination sucks."
The producer smiles.
"Not what you expected?"
Lily shakes her head.
"No."
A pause.
"Better."
The episode cuts briefly to footage of the crowd after the chequered flag.
Australian flags everywhere.
Fans crying.
Children screaming her name.
The entire grandstand standing.
Then back to Lily.
"What was the hardest moment during the race?"
The answer comes immediately.
"The pit stop."
The producer nods.
"You thought it was over?"
"I was thinking of where to dig a hole to shove my head in."
The producer laughs.
Lily shrugs.
"Look."
She gestures helplessly.
“Luck’s a bitch.”
The room erupts.
Then the producer changes gears.
The dangerous gears.
"We also noticed something else during the race."
Lily immediately groans.
"No."
The producer isn't even pretending anymore.
"We haven't asked the question yet."
"I know exactly what question it is."
The producer glances at their notes.
"Several people noticed your radio messages."
Lily closes her eyes.
"Oh my God."
The screen immediately cuts to radio transcripts.
Not audio.
Just words.
Enough to remind the audience.
Enough to make Lily suffer.
Back to the interview.
The producer leans forward with a glint in his eyes.
"You seemed concerned about your engineer."
Lily stares directly into the camera.
Then directly away from it.
Then back again.
"I was."
The answer slips out before she can stop it.
The producer notices.
Of course they notice.
"You were?"
"Yes."
The producer waits.
Lily sighs.
"He's important."
The room becomes noticeably quieter.
Even Lily seems surprised by the answer.
The producer softens slightly.
"What makes him important?"
Lily doesn’t reach for a joke, something to hide behind for some comfort.
"He knows me."
The answer comes quietly.
"He knows when I'm pretending."
"He knows when I'm scared."
The producer lowers their notes.
"And does that matter?"
Lily smiles.
Small.
Almost embarrassed.
"More than I'd probably like."
The episode lets the silence linger.
Just long enough.
Then comes the final question.
The one Netflix has been building toward all segment.
"So..."
The producer leans forward.
"Is there something going on between you two?"
The entire room bursts out laughing.
Even Lily.
Especially Lily.
She drops her head into her hands.
"You people are unbelievable."
The producer waits.
Patiently.
Lily looks back up.
Still smiling.
Still laughing.
"I don't know."
The producer raises an eyebrow.
Lily shrugs.
"We'll see."
Albert Park is finally quiet.
The floodlights reflect off the lake.
The grandstands are mostly empty now.
The same seats that had held thousands upon thousands of screaming fans only hours ago now sit silent beneath the Melbourne night.
You find Lily in the grass near the track, resting on a picnic mat as she lets the world around her slip by.
The trophy resting beside her.
You sit beside her.
She doesn't look surprised.
Almost like she'd expected you to find her.
For a while neither of you says anything.
The silence feels comfortable.
Familiar.
Eventually Lily nudges the trophy.
"I won the Australian Grand Prix."
"You did."
She shakes her head.
"I can’t believe it.”
You laugh.
She smiles.
Then her eyes drift back toward the circuit.
The smile lingering.
"The interview was awful."
"I heard."
"They asked about you."
You smirk.
"I heard that too."
She groans and covers her face.
"I'm never talking to Netflix again."
A pause.
"They got me."
"Oh?"
She lowers her hands.
"They asked what makes you important."
The joking tone disappears.
Not completely.
Just enough.
The night suddenly feeling quieter.
"And?"
Lily stares out at the track.
The answer clearly sitting somewhere inside her.
Eventually she shrugs.
Small.
Almost helpless.
"I told the truth. I didn't mean to."
A soft laugh.
"I was going to make a joke."
"Oh, Lily Jin Morrow deflecting with a joke, who would have thought."
She rolls her eyes.
"I hate you."
"No you don't."
"Unfortunately."
The smile that follows is immediate.
Automatic.
Neither of you can stop it anymore.
Eventually she bumps her shoulder gently against yours.
"You know what the weirdest part was?"
"What?"
"When the pit stop happened."
The memory still hurts.
Even now.
Even after the victory.
"I thought it was over."
You nod.
"So did I."
She laughs.
"See, that's both comforting and scary, because it wasn’t just me, but you lied through your teeth without hesitation."
You shrug with a sheepish smiles
She rolls her eyes, then looks down at her hands.
"For about thirty seconds..."
Her voice softens.
"I couldn't hear anything, it all just kind of disappeared."
You glance over.
She's not looking at you.
Still staring ahead.
"But then I heard your voice. You sounded so sure."
She laughs quietly.
"You know what's annoying?"
You hum softly
"I believed you immediately."
The smile on her face is impossibly fond now.
Like she's remembering something precious.
"I didn't even think about it."
A pause.
"You just said I still got it, that I could still win."
Another pause.
"And I thought..."
She looks over.
Meeting your eyes.
"...okay."
The world seems to shrink.
The empty circuit.
The floodlights.
The trophy.
The night.
Everything fading away.
Leaving only her.
"You always do that."
"What?"
Her smile grows.
Small.
Warm.
Dangerously beautiful.
"You make me feel like things are going to be okay."
For a moment you genuinely don't know what to say.
Lily notices immediately.
The smile turns victorious.
"Oh my God."
"What?"
"I finally got you."
You groan.
“Never thought I’d get you tongue tied.”
She laughs.
The sound echoes softly across the empty circuit.
Then fades.
Leaving the quiet behind again.
This time neither of you rushes to fill it.
Eventually Lily's gaze drifts back toward the track.
"You know..."
"What?"
"When I crossed the finish line...I wasn't thinking about the crowd, about the trophy, I wasn't even thinking about winning."
You look at her.
She looks back.
And suddenly it becomes very difficult to look away.
The smile she gives you is tiny.
Almost shy.
The kind she never shows anyone else.
"I was thinking about you."
The words barely rise above a whisper.
For a second neither of you moves.
Neither of you speaks.
The air feels different now.
Charged.
Fragile.
Like one wrong movement might break something.
Or start something neither of you are ready for.
Lily looks away first.
Only because she's smiling too much.
Her cheeks faintly pink.
Which somehow makes your heart beat even faster.
"That's embarrassing."
"It was kind of cute."
"Oh my God."
She immediately hides her face.
"No."
"It was."
"No."
"It absolutely was."
She peeks through her fingers.
The smile refusing to disappear.
"You are so annoying."
Lily laughs.
Then slowly lowers her hands.
Still smiling.
Still looking at you.
The distance between you somehow feels much smaller than before.
Neither of you mentions it.
Neither of you has to.
Eventually her head comes to rest lightly against your shoulder.
Tentative.
Like she's giving you every opportunity to move away.
You don't.
Not even slightly.
The sigh that escapes her sounds relieved.
Content.
Happy.
Just the two of you.
The trophy forgotten beside you.
The circuit glowing beneath the lights.
And Lily quietly stealing warmth from your shoulder as though she's been doing it forever.
After a while she speaks again.
So softly you almost miss it.
"Best day of my life."
You smile.
Looking out over the track she'd conquered.
The track that had watched her become something unforgettable.
Then you glance down at her.
You're not sure she's talking about the race anymore.
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