One Song || A Lando Norris Fanfiction

ELEVEN

Song of the Chapter: Am I wrong by Nico & Vinz

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Lando's POV

I stare at my phone. A picture of Aimee and who appears to be her ex boyfriend on my screen. There's two pictures circulating on the internet. One of them at a restaurant, where the two of them seemingly had dinner. The other of them hugging in what I have determined is the arena, she's performing at tonight.

Hollywood's golden couple back together?

I keep reading over the headline. She would've told me if she had a boyfriend right? I'm pretty sure she told me I was single, although right now I'm not so sure about that anymore. 

I look at my phone, three o'clock. That makes it eleven at night in Las Vegas. Maybe she's finished her show already, maybe she can clarify this for me. Because I really can't make sense of this. 

"I'm gonna go rest a bit before the last interview." I say to Daniel, walking into my drivers room. My body still very sore from my crash earlier this week.

I sit down on the couch in my drivers room, opening FaceTime and pressing on Aimee's name. I want to talk to her, I need to talk to her. 

I take a few deep breaths, the phone ringing, before Aimee appears on my screen.

"Hi," I say, taking in her sweaty appearance.

"Hi." She says, clearly trying to find words to say.

"How did the show go?" I ask her, trying to ease in to the conversation. But Aimee's already not buying that. She clearly knows I've seen things, things she probably didn't want me to see.

"It went well. But I don't believe that's really why you're calling is it?" She says, sitting down on what I assume is her dressing room couch.

"Not really." I admit, a small blush creeping up on my face.

"So, I freaking hate the media." Aimee says, getting my attention. "But his name is Jonas, he was my boyfriend when I got famous. We broke up because he didn't want me to move to Monaco, so I could be closer to family. He wanted me to settle in the US permanently. He came to talk to me, because he wants to get together again. I don't want that by the way. Although I did go to dinner to hear him out anyway." Aimee explains.

"You don't want to be with him?" I ask, it's all I can think off. It would mean I've got a chance still. 

"I don't." She tells me, trying to make eye contact through our phones, sincerity evident in her eyes.

"Good," I breathe. "I wouldn't want you to get back together with him either."

A knock on my door interrupts our conversation, signalling I need to get ready for the final interview.

"That's my cue to go do my job again." I say to Aimee. "Talk to you tomorrow? After your show? I'm hoping I'm done with FP2 by then."

"Sounds good." She says, a small smile on her face. "Please don't hurt yourself too much. Take care of your body."

"I will." I tell her, before saying goodbye.

Aimee definitely isn't the only one that's been trying to make me skip this race. Especially with my body still this sore. People have been telling me that after such a high impact crash, I shouldn't be racing this weekend. I refuse, I can't just do that. I can't just say I'm not racing, I need to try. 

***

"Guys I need some help getting out." I say over the board radio, as they've just turned my car back into the garage at the end of FP2. My whole body hurting tremendously, two practise sessions definitely too much on my body. Every single muscle in my body feels tense and aches like hell. 

One of the engineers helps me out of the car, the teams physical therapist quickly to my side. I already know what he's going to say, and I'm sure I will not like it. 

"Lando this is not healthy." The physical therapist states simply.

"I know, but what's there to do." I say, determined not to let them keep me from racing. "I need to race."

"You don't need to suffer this badly, you can sit this one out." She explains, everything in line with what's been said to me by everyone I've seen today. 

I limp to an empty chair in the garage. Letting my body fall down on it. My feet not able to hold my body up for any longer.

"And if you don't make this decision yourself, I'll be making it for you. You're compromising your health." The physical therapist states, a stern look on her face.

"Fine, but you announce it to the team. I won't be the one to let them know I'm too weak to race." I tell her, not fine with the decision at all. But I don't have much of a choice, do I?

I let out a small cough, feeling it all through my body.

"Can you help me to my drivers room first?" I ask the physical therapist, before she can announce to everyone I'm not allowed to race this weekend.

I want to tell Aimee before she reads it online.

"You'll be okay here?" The physical therapist asks, as I take my arm off of her shoulders. Letting my body fall down on the couch.

"I'll be fine." I say, giving a signal for her to leave.

I grab my phone, a message from Aimee on there wishing me best of luck and to be careful. The messages are always there, she's always there to wish me luck. Her messages bringing a smile to my face. 

I press the FaceTime button next to her name, and unlike sometimes she's quick to answer.

"I ended before you, for a change." She says, once she picks up. A smile on her face, but that falters fast once she sees my pained expression. "Please don't tell me the team's okay with you racing."

I sigh, she's seen it all. She can tell in how much pain I am. "They're not. I'm being benched for the rest of the weekend." I say, sadness overtaking me. I can't believe I'm not allowed to race.

"Good, because you would've seriously compromised your health by doing that." She says, relieve on her face.

We talk for about an hour, until Ava walks into her dressing rooms. Telling Aimee she's got to get ready to leave the arena.

"Hi Lando." Ava says, getting in the shot a bit. "I'm sorry, but I've gotta steal her for a bit."

"That's fine," I tell Ava before saying goodbye to Aimee as well. It was a very comfortable phone call. One of those in which we probably shared a bit too much, but it was good for me. It was a good way to clear my mind and get me mentally ready to watch the race instead of being in it. 

"I'll text you when I get back to the hotel." Aimee says before saying good bye and giving me a small wave. 

"I'll text you back." I say before ending the call.

I still can't believe I won't be racing. 

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Edited 4-9-2023