One Song || A Lando Norris Fanfiction

TWENTY-FOUR

Song of the Chapter: Fast Car by Jonas Blue & Dakota

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Lando's POV

The alarm going off on Friday morning felt like it was three at night. My stomach still a little upset through the night, but at least I managed to keep my stomach contents where they belong. I turn off the alarm, getting under the shower. Hoping it will lift my energy a bit. All in all I didn't get much sleep.

The hot beams of water seemed to do their job a bit. Calming my body down, making me feel a bit more awake and aware of my surroundings. After getting out of the warm shower, I get changed into some team gear, knowing the doctor will come to my room for a final check up. Seeing if he can clear me to race.

The knock on my door, after I just got out of the bathroom, signals the doctor is already here. I quickly open the door letting him in. He does a quick exam, before standing in front of me. Definitely contemplating whether he would clear me for the practise session and qualifying today.

And he definitely will.

"You seem to be a bit better than last night." The doctor states.

"I am feeling a lot better, managed to not throw up through the night." I tell him and he nods approvingly.

"I hadn't expected anything else, with the amount of anti-nausea drugs I gave you. But it's good to hear that they did their job. I do however see signs of minor dehydration, and with that I'm not comfortable letting you get into the car." My head falls, I had not expected this.

"Can't you just give me an extra IV?" I ask, think back to the precautionary IV I had last night.

"We could, but there's still a chance it won't do enough. Your body could be too weak for this, as well." The doctor explains, but I'm not having it at all. I'm not sitting out another race.

"Get me the IV, I'll do FP1 and if that doesn't work out we get Nyck to drive it anyway." I suggest, eager to get to track and drive around again.

The doctor looks at me, and over to one of the physical therapists of McLaren that had just arrived as well. "Oh come on guys, you can at least give me a chance. I've driven with the flu and tonsillitis, I can drive with whatever this is as well." I state, both of them sighing in response until finally giving in.

The doctor quickly puts in an IV, as my race engineer enters the room as well. Ready to go over the programs I'm supposedly running today. Once all of them have left, and the IV is finished, I get ready to go to the track. Making sure to call Aimee, before leaving the hotel room.

She's travelling to Charleston today, so she probably has time for a quick call. I press her contact, clicking FaceTime.

"Hi Lan." She says, a small smile on her face, as she walks to the back of her tourbus.

"Hi Aims." I say, matching her smile. Hoping to convince her that I'm doing well too.

"How are you?" She asks, sitting down at the back of the tourbus, closing the little door between that space and the front.

"I'm okay, slept good. Not throwing my guts up anymore." I say with a small chuckle.

"So you're racing today?" She says a hopeful smile on her face.

"I'm gonna try, I have to get through FP1 first." I tell her, my stomach rumbling. We are not going to do this, I'm not ready for another day of this.

"Well keep me updated okay? I'll be watching, so only the updates about your health are necessary. The rest, the media's got that covered." Aimee says, holding up her laptop, already on F1 TV.

"I will, I promise." I say before saying goodbye. Having to get my ass to track as soon as possible, I'm late already.

***

"Great job Lando, that's P4." I hear through the radio, ripping the helmet from my head. I need to get to a bathroom as quick as possible. And luckily for me, most of my team realise that. Giving me free way to my drivers room.

I however get down to the first bathroom I see, throwing up everything I had been struggling to keep in since this morning. After I feel like the last bit of stomach content is out, I wipe my mouth. Flushing the toilet quickly making my way to my drivers room. Needing some time to collect myself.

I pick up my phone, the name of the person I wanted to listen to already on my screen.

Man, she's good.

I press answer, not feeling like a FaceTime call this time.

"Are you alright?" Aimee asks worriedly.

"Yeah, just think the adrenaline and everything was a bit too much. I'm feeling much better now everything is out though." I tell her.

"Good, you did amazing on track Lan." She says, and I can practically hear the pride in her voice. And I must admit, it feels good.

"Thanks." I say, feeling my cheeks burn up a bit. "I've got to go though. Media duties and everything. But I'll call you when I get back to the hotel."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

When I open the door of my drivers room, the doctor is standing there. Together with one of our physical therapists, and the press officer. Demanding to check on my physical health before I am allowed to fulfil my media duties.

It does not take the doctor long before he realises I'm on the verge of dehydration again. I promise I'd get some water and elektrolytes in me, and bargain that he can put in another IV once I'm back in the hotel. I want to show everyone I'm fine, well as fine as you can be battling food poisoning.

***

I honestly have no fucking clue on how I managed to get through this weekend. I collapse on the bed, after going back to the hotel right after the race this afternoon. I'm happy to say George took home his first ever GP win, but I can't help but feel a little jealous. Still hoping mine will come along someday soon.

I notice the pre made meal on the desk, steam coming from it. A note from one of our trainers next to it.

Eat this, we made sure it's all cooked properly.

Well at least this won't make me sick again. My whole body just felt powerless, not the slightest bit of energy remaining in it. I do however as the note has said. I manage to eat the meal, take a short shower and climb into bed.

I check my phone, it's only eight. And I know Aimee was going out for dinner with some tour crew. I want to wait up, but I don't think I can manage that. My body craving rest.

I open WhatsApp, clicking my chat with Aimee. Forming a good night text with the last bit of energy remaining in my body, before putting my phone away and drifting off to a well deserved sleep.

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*edited 6-11-2023*