𝐒𝐎𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋 𝐌𝐄𝐃𝐈𝐀 𝐗 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋 𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐄!

𝐒𝐏𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍'
𝟑𝟎. 𝐍𝐨𝐭 𝐟𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐦𝐞

             THE atmosphere in Monaco was quieter than usual. The group had settled back into their routines, but there was an unspoken heaviness in the air. Gianna was spending most of her days at home, resting or writing in her notebook. The doctor's recommendation to start treatment soon weighed heavily on her mind, and the upcoming journey ahead left her feeling both determined and terrified.

Max and Pietra, though always supportive, had started planning the next chapter of their lives. Over breakfast, they'd announced their decision to find a place of their own.

"We've been talking about it for a while," Pietra explained, her hand resting over Max's on the table. "And with everything going on, it just feels like the right time."

Gianna gave them a soft smile, though she could feel a pang in her chest. "That makes sense. You two deserve your own space—especially with the wedding coming up."

"Of course, we're still here for you," Max added quickly, his tone sincere. "You just say the word, and we'll be at your side whenever you need us."

Lando, sitting beside Gianna, reached for her hand under the table, giving it a gentle squeeze. She glanced at him, grateful for his silent support.

Later that day, Gianna had an appointment with her doctor in Monaco to finalize her treatment plan. Lando insisted on coming with her, even though she initially resisted. "You don't have to," she'd said, but he'd simply replied, "I want to."

The appointment was sobering. The doctor outlined the treatment process—a combination of mild chemotherapy and supportive care to ensure her body could handle it. "It's important to start soon," the doctor said, his tone firm but kind. "The earlier we begin, the better the chances for a smooth recovery."

When they left the clinic, Gianna felt a lump forming in her throat. She walked a few steps ahead of Lando, trying to process everything. Finally, she stopped, turning to him. "This is really happening, isn't it?"

Lando nodded, stepping closer. "It is. But you're not facing it alone, Gianna."

She sighed, looking down at the pavement. "I hate that you have to go through this with me."

"Darling," he said, tilting her chin up to meet his gaze. "I'm not 'going through' anything. This is about you, and I'm here because I love you. I want to be here."

Her eyes filled with tears, and she leaned into him, resting her head against his chest. "I don't know how I got so lucky with you."

"You're the one who's strong," he whispered, holding her tightly.

When they got back to the apartment, Gianna retreated to the bedroom to rest while Lando sat in the living room, texting Max. He wanted to make sure they could all coordinate support for Gianna during her treatment.

The days ahead wouldn't be easy, but they had each other. And that was something.

          THE week Gianna started her treatments was a whirlwind of emotions. At first, she felt optimistic, even managing to laugh and joke with Lando on the way to her first session. "Maybe I'll be one of the lucky ones," she had said, trying to lighten the mood. Lando had smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

For the first few days, the side effects were manageable. She was tired but still found pockets of time to read, write, or sit by the window with a cup of tea. Lando had taken some time off to stay with her, making sure she ate and rested.

But as the week progressed, the treatments began to take their toll. The fatigue deepened, the nausea hit harder, and her once-hopeful demeanor started to fade. Gianna began retreating into herself, spending more time alone in their bedroom, curtains drawn and phone silenced. She barely spoke, even to Lando.

"Gianna," he said one evening, gently knocking on the door after coming back from running errands. "Can I come in?"

"Not now," came her muffled reply.

He sighed, resting his forehead against the door for a moment before walking away. He didn't want to push her, but it hurt to see her shutting him out.

By the time the weekend arrived, Lando had no choice but to focus on his work. He was scheduled to leave for the next race, and though he hated the idea of being away from her, he knew he couldn't miss it.

The night before his flight, he sat on the edge of their bed, watching her as she lay curled up, staring blankly at the wall.

"I leave tomorrow," he said softly.

She didn't respond, her expression unreadable.

"Gianna, please talk to me," he pleaded. "I know this is hard, but I'm here. Let me help you."

"I don't want help," she finally whispered, her voice strained. "I just want to feel normal again."

"You will," he said, his voice firm yet tender. "This is just part of the process."

She turned to look at him then, her eyes glassy with unshed tears. "You don't get it, Lando. You're not the one who has to feel this...this weakness, this pain."

His heart ached at her words, but he knew she didn't mean to push him away. "I might not get it, but I'm not going anywhere. Even when I'm on the other side of the world, I'm here for you."

She nodded faintly, but her walls remained up.

The next morning, Lando kissed her forehead before he left, leaving a note on her bedside table that read: You're my everything, darling. Call me anytime. I'll be back soon.

As the apartment grew quiet without him, Gianna felt a pang of guilt for how distant she had been. She didn't want to shut him out, but the weight of everything felt unbearable.

She lay back down, staring at the note for a long time, tears slipping silently down her cheeks.

THAT week, Lando was in Belgium for the race weekend. Though he tried to check in with Gianna as often as he could, their conversations were short and sporadic. She barely had the energy to hold her phone, let alone carry on a conversation. Most of her replies to his texts were one-word responses, and their brief calls were often filled with long silences.

Lando tried not to take it personally, but it was hard not to worry. He'd scroll through old photos of them on his phone in his downtime, the vibrant and lively Gianna now feeling like a distant memory.

Meanwhile, back in Monaco, Pietra had stepped in to help Gianna around the house. She cooked light meals, tidied up, and made sure Gianna stayed hydrated. But despite her best efforts, Gianna remained distant, her exhaustion making her quiet and withdrawn.

Pietra didn't push her to talk. She simply did what needed to be done, offering a soft smile or a gentle pat on the shoulder when passing by. It was unspoken, but she understood that Gianna needed space.

Max, on the other hand, had joined Lando in Belgium to show support during the race weekend. During their downtime, Max noticed how distracted Lando seemed.

"You're not here, mate," Max said one evening, handing Lando a beer. "Everything okay?"

Lando hesitated, staring out at the track from their team's hospitality suite. "It's Gianna," he finally said. "She's... not herself. She barely talks to me, Max."

Max nodded knowingly. "She's going through a lot. It's not about you, you know that, right?"

"I know," Lando sighed, running a hand through his hair. "But it's hard being away. I feel useless."

"You're not," Max said firmly. "You're giving her space, and that's what she probably needs right now. Just keep being there, even if it feels like she's not letting you in."

Lando nodded, though the heaviness in his chest didn't ease.

Back in Monaco, Pietra found Gianna curled up on the couch in one of Lando's oversized hoodies, staring blankly at the television.

"I made some tea," Pietra said softly, setting a mug on the coffee table.

"Thanks," Gianna murmured, not looking up.

Pietra hesitated before sitting down on the armchair nearby. "You know, it's okay to let people help you. You don't have to do this alone."

Gianna's lips pressed into a thin line. "I know," she said quietly, though her tone suggested otherwise.

The house was mostly silent that week, apart from the sound of the television or the occasional clink of dishes in the kitchen. Gianna appreciated Pietra's presence, even if she didn't have the energy to say so.

By Sunday, Lando was on edge as he prepared for the race. He hadn't heard much from Gianna all weekend, and it weighed heavily on him. He knew she was struggling, but being so far away made him feel powerless.

"Focus on the race," Max told him as they headed to the grid. "You'll see her soon."

But even as the race began, Gianna was never far from his mind.

          GIANNA sat quietly in the hospital chair, her gaze fixed on the window as the IV slowly dripped her treatment into her system. The sterile smell of the hospital had become all too familiar over the past few weeks. Next to her, Pietra sat with her legs crossed, flipping through a magazine, occasionally glancing at Gianna to make sure she was okay.

The cold cap on Gianna's head was tight and uncomfortable, the freezing sensation digging into her scalp. She winced occasionally but didn't say much about it. It was a small price to pay, she kept telling herself, but noticing her hair thinning more each day had been one of the hardest parts of this journey.

Pietra finally set the magazine down and leaned closer. "How are you holding up?" she asked softly.

Gianna sighed, her voice tired. "I'm okay... I think." She hesitated before adding, "It's just... the cold caps make it worse. Like a constant reminder."

Pietra reached over and gently squeezed Gianna's hand. "I know. But you're doing amazing, Gianna. I mean it."

Gianna gave her a faint smile, her eyes flickering with gratitude. "Thanks. I... I've been trying to remind myself of that, but it's hard, you know? When you don't feel like yourself anymore."

Pietra nodded. "It's not easy, but you're stronger than you think. And you're not alone in this."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the beeping machines filling the air. Gianna took a deep breath and leaned her head back against the chair. "I appreciate you being here, Pietra. I know I haven't been the easiest person to be around."

"Don't even start with that," Pietra said with a small laugh. "You'd do the same for me in a heartbeat. And besides, I think we've bonded over this."

Gianna chuckled lightly, the first genuine laugh she'd had in days. "We have. It's kind of nice, having someone to talk to about... everything."

Later that afternoon, as they left the hospital, Pietra brought up Lando's race earlier in the day. "Did you watch it?"

Gianna nodded. "Bits and pieces between naps. He placed fourth, right?"

"Yeah," Pietra confirmed. "But, of course, the media is already tearing into him. Saying it's not good enough, he's not consistent, all that nonsense."

Gianna frowned, her brow furrowing. "He's doing his best. He's under so much pressure already."

"I know," Pietra said, looping an arm around Gianna's shoulders. "He doesn't need their criticism on top of everything else."

Gianna sighed as they reached the car. "I should probably call him later. I didn't want to bother him before the race, but... I miss him."

Pietra smiled knowingly. "You should. He'd love to hear from you, especially now."

As they drove back to the house, Gianna stared out the window, her mind racing. She couldn't shake the feeling of wanting to do something for Lando, something to show him how much she appreciated his support, even when things felt overwhelming.

          GIANNA sat on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, her phone resting in her hands. The day had been long and draining, but she knew she had to reach out to the people who cared about her. First, she called Callum and Aurelia to update them about her treatment and how she was holding up. Their voices were comforting, their words full of encouragement and love, but she couldn't shake the heaviness in her chest even after hanging up.

After taking a deep breath, she scrolled through her contacts and tapped on Lando's name. She needed to hear his voice.

"Hey, darling," he answered almost immediately, his voice warm and familiar, yet tinged with exhaustion.

"Hi," she replied softly, leaning back into the couch. "How was your day?"

"Long," he admitted. "But I've been thinking about you. How are you feeling?"

Gianna hesitated, her fingers picking at the edge of the blanket. "Tired. The usual, I guess. Pietra stayed with me today during treatment. She's been great."

"That's good," Lando said, his voice quieter now. "I wish I could've been there."

"I know," Gianna said, her throat tightening. "You've got so much on your plate, though. I don't want to make it harder for you."

"You're not making anything harder," Lando said quickly, his tone firm. "You're the most important thing, Gianna. You know that."

His words made her chest ache, a mix of love and guilt bubbling up inside her. She closed her eyes, her voice barely above a whisper. "Lando... if this is too much for you, I'd understand if you needed to leave."

The silence on the other end of the line was deafening.

"What?" he finally said, his voice low and laced with disbelief.

"I mean it," she said, her voice trembling now. "You don't have to stay. I wouldn't hold it against you. I know this isn't what you signed up for, and I love you too much to make you stay if it's too much—"

"Stop," Lando interrupted, his voice sharp, hurt dripping from every syllable. "Don't say that. Don't you ever say that."

"Lando, I—"

"No, Gianna," he cut her off, his voice breaking slightly. "You think I'd just walk away? After everything? You think I'd leave you when you need me the most? Do you even know how much I love you?"

Tears spilled down her cheeks, her hand shaking as she clutched the phone. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I just... I don't want to drag you down with me."

"You're not dragging me down," he said firmly, his tone softening slightly. "You're my world, Gianna. I'm in this with you, no matter how hard it gets. I wish you'd believe that."

She sniffled, wiping her tears with the sleeve of her sweater. "I do. I'm sorry. I just—sometimes it's hard to believe I deserve this, that I deserve you."

"Darling, you deserve everything," he said gently. "And I'm not going anywhere. Ever. Do you hear me?"

"I hear you," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

"Good," Lando said softly. "I love you, Gianna. And I'm going to keep reminding you of that until you believe it."

"Thank you," she said, her voice breaking.

They stayed on the phone for a while longer, the conversation eventually shifting to lighter topics, but the weight of their earlier exchange lingered in the back of her mind. As much as she hated to admit it, his unwavering love scared her almost as much as it comforted her.

            LATER she sat in bed, her body aching from the day's treatment and her head heavy with thoughts she couldn't quiet. She leaned against the headboard, scrolling through her phone aimlessly, when an alert popped up.

Her heart sank as she opened it—a notification from a gossip site. The headline read, "Singer Gianna Sighting at Monaco Hospital Sparks Concern—Health Issues?"

She froze, her chest tightening as she stared at the article. It was accompanied by a grainy photo, clearly taken from a distance, of her and Pietra in the hospital. She was sitting in the treatment chair, pale and tired, with the cold cap strapped on her head. Pietra was beside her, holding her hand, a soft but concerned expression on her face.

The article speculated wildly, throwing out baseless claims about her health and career. The words blurred as tears pricked her eyes.

Gianna dropped her phone onto the bed, her hands trembling. She felt exposed, violated. That moment was supposed to be private, shared only with the people she trusted most. Now, the whole world could see her at her most vulnerable.

Her mind raced. How had this happened? Who had taken the photo? How long had they been watching her? The thought made her skin crawl.

She couldn't stop the spiral. What would people say? Would they pity her? Criticize her for not being upfront? Would they link it to Lando, dragging him into the narrative?

She buried her face in her hands, her breathing shallow. She hated this. Hated that her life wasn't her own anymore. Hated that even her fight, something so personal, could be turned into a spectacle.

A knock at the door startled her. She wiped her eyes quickly, trying to compose herself. "Come in," she called, her voice shaky.

Pietra peeked her head in, concern etched on her face. "Hey, are you okay?"

Gianna hesitated before holding up her phone, showing Pietra the article. Pietra's face hardened as she stepped inside and sat on the edge of the bed. "When did this come out?"

"Just now," Gianna said quietly. "I don't know how they even got the photo."

Pietra's jaw tightened. "It doesn't matter how. What matters is how we deal with it."

Gianna let out a shaky sigh. "I don't want to deal with it. I just want it to go away."

Pietra reached for her hand. "I know. But you're strong, Gianna. You'll get through this. And you're not alone, okay?"

Gianna nodded, though the weight on her chest didn't lessen. As Pietra left the room to give her some space, Gianna curled up under the covers, her mind still spinning.

She had fought hard to keep this private, but now that it was out, she would have to face it. And though the thought terrified her, she reminded herself that she wasn't fighting alone.

#AUTHORSNOTE

My poor babies, I promise they will have happy things in their life.

Thanks for reading and don't be a silent reader, I love to read your thoughts!

J