Like Lightning - Carlando

I Am Not Going Anywhere - 4

3rd Person /Lando's POV

It was 3:30 pm and qualifying just finished a few minutes ago for Lando and it was obvious that the Brit was upset. So far this season he had qualified p8 or above but his streak ended today when he qualified p16. P16????? Lando was fuming with himself. How could he be so terrible at the one thing he is supposed to be good at. He couldn't even make it out of Q1.

When he was doing his last lap to slow down before he went into the McLaren garage, the young man was on the verge of tears. Riccardo, who had made his way into Q2, slowed down whilst driving past Lando, putting his thumb up to his teammate. This was probably due to the unusual behaviour he had been showing throughout the day. Lando just ignored him and carried on driving back to the pits as he didn't want to start breaking down.

Now in the McLaren garage he had just spoken to Zak and his performance coach and luckily they were really understanding. They told him not to worry about it and to just come back refreshed after the summer break. The thing is, Lando felt really bad. He had let the team down after performing so well the rest of the season. It was about 3:45 pm now and the young man went to the bathroom to change into his McLaren hoodie, grey joggers and air forces, despite it being an alright 27 degrees, as Lando felt he needed comfort. Once he was done he just stood there in the mirror. His face still looked hollow and really pale, even after sweating whilst trying to put in a fast lap. He looked terrible. This was enough for a few tears to escape his eyes, before he forced himself to take a deep, shaky breath, in aim to calm himself.

After being stood, staring at his tragic reflection for what felt like forever, the Brit put his hood up and left the bathroom. Giving his race clothes to one of the members of the team, Lando realised the qualifying session had just finished, so he went to look at the final starting positions on the screen for tomorrow. Riccardo had gotten p12... Charles p4... George p5... and Carlos p2. At least he did well Lando thought to himself. Some of the highlights began to play on the screen, showing Carlos have a lock up around the 7th turn on his last flying lap. If this didn't happen, then Carlos would have clearly been on pole. He stared at the screen for a few moments longer, before he heard the voice of the Australian up behind him.
"Lando, you alright mate?" Daniel asked as he approached the Brit. Lando didn't feel as though he could answer, so he got up quickly making his way out the garage. "What's up dude? Please talk to me." instead Lando just carried on walking to the orange McLaren motorhome as Daniel got called over to talk to Zak about his result.

3rd Person /Carlos' POV

Carlos was pretty satisfied with getting p2 tomorrow, except from the fact it was a potential pole. Besides that he should be happy. When he looked at peoples positions once he got back to the Ferrari garage, he saw that Lando, his McLaren ex-teammate had qualified p16. This came as a shock to the Spaniard as the Brit had be performing good and consistent so far this season. Carlos knew that this was probably due to the restless night Lando had and knew that the younger man would take this out on himself badly.

After speaking with Binotto and some of the team, Carlos quickly changed into a Scuderia Ferrari polo, jeans and some casual-ish shoes and then made his way over to the McLaren garage to find his probably upset friend. Once he was there, he looked around trying to spot the Brit but instead he found himself in front of the Brit's Aussie teammate.
"Where is Lando?" the Spaniard questioned rather hurriedly.
"No clue mate. He looked devastated, so I tried to talk to him but he just stormed off." This made Carlos worry like crazy but he knew he couldn't go and search for him yet.
"I'm really surprised by his results today, to be honest with ya. Feel for him right now I do." Daniel said empathetically as the Spaniard swallowed hard.
"Boys, you are wanted for interviews." one of the McLaren people called.
Carlos then groaned in his thick Spanish accent,"Fuck."