Mon Champion

Chapter 2

Lando's POV:

I was supposed to be preparing for qualifying, but my definition of preparing was putting on my racesuit. I could get in trouble for this, but I honestly didn't care. This was the last race weekend of the season, and I was ready for the season to be over. I hadn't recovered from what happened in Sochi, and it haunted me every day.

I was 4 points behind Leclerc and 4.5 ahead of Carlos, but I was going to finish the season in at least 7th place, which was an improvement on last year anyways.

I decided to sit down and watch the final race of the F2 season, because I had nothing better to do (it's not like I had qualifying in a few hours or anything). Charles, Daniel, George, and Carlos had all come to my motorhome uninvited to watch the race, but I wasn't going to complain about my friends being dickheads, because that's what friends do.

Before lap 20, the race was quite uneventful. There was a collision on lap 1 and an overtake in the pits, but nothing crazy. Charles and Daniel had already left to go get ready for qualifying, but Carlos and George stayed.

I was in the kitchen of my motorhome when I heard George scream, very loudly, and very high-pitched. I started to run towards the TV when I slipped on water I'd spilled and face-planted. The motorhome shook at the impact, and I wallowed in the embarrassment for a second before getting back up and continuing to run towards the TV.

"There a monster in the kitchen or something mate?", asked George with a grin. I slapped him on the back of his head and sat down on the couch beside him.

"Sounded like there was a monster in here by the sound of your scream, Georgie." I snickered at George's reaction, as he turned red as a Ferrari. He hated when I called him that, but that wasn't going to stop me, because friends are made to be dickheads.

My making fun of George was swiftly interrupted by the pure volume of Alex Jacques' scream when the 2 leaders had crashed.

"AND THEY COLLIDE! PIC IS OUT, PIASTRI HAS DAMAGE, BUT MORE IMPORTANTLY, PIC'S CHAMPIONSHIP IS OVER!" You could hear a pin drop in the motorhome. I always thought it was way too awkward when people crashed, but that's just how racing was.

"Wow." I mouthed. There was always the chance that something like that would happen, but I never thought it actually would. I decided to break the rather awkward silence and share my thoughts.

"Damn, that really sucks. It kinda was his fault though, turned inside too late." Leave it to me to put blame on someone in a crash that had nothing to do with me, but it's not like that never happened. I hadn't even noticed that Carlos has left, I assumed to go prepare.

"I'm gonna go, mate. I'll see you on track." George then stood up and left. Now, alone, I turned off the TV, and returned to the kitchen to make something to eat before qualifying.

I was in the middle of eating when my phone started to ring. It was my race engineer, Will. I didn't even have to pick up the phone to know why he was calling me. It was time for me to go to the garage. I stood up and walked out the door, still taking the time to answer the call and talk to him.

The call was exactly what I'd expected it to be, Will telling me that I needed to come to the garage, us discussing the setup, me getting distracted and going on a tangent about something completely random, this time that being the F2 race.

When I hung up the phone, I decided to text Oscar, and give him some encouragement. Losing a race win really sucked, let alone a world championship. I hoped that I would never have to go through losing anything ever again. I didn't want to think about Sochi, I knew I wouldn't be able to focus on qualifying if I did.

"Hey mate. I know that you don't want to think about racing right now, but don't lose hope. I know what it's like to lose a race victory, but that probably doesn't compare to what you're feeling. Come back stronger next season mate, I know your title will come." I decided to stop typing then, because I was beginning to feel a bit too cheesy, and I didn't want to be cheesy. I hate cheesy relationships.

I had just pressed send when I heard a scream almost louder than George's had been previously. I didn't know who it was, and I didn't know what they'd said, because It was definitely in a language that I didn't speak. I just knew they didn't sound happy. My snoopy self decided to eavesdrop on whoever it was. I just hoped they didn't see me, because I didn't want to get yelled at.