"Lando, can you help me figure something out quickly?"
The man leans back in his seat and watches me intently with cold eyes.
"Sure Zak, anything for the big boss at Mclaren. Wassup?"
"How long... have you been sleeping with my daughter?"
In a fast...
"And that's the checkered flag for Max Verstappen," came the announcement on the radio.
The Red Bull team and fans alike were cheering and celebrating for the young Dutch driver as he crossed the finish line to go to parc fermé.
"What a great victory, Verstappen came from 10th on the grid to take his 28th victory home as the Hangarian Grand Prix winner."
Finishing the race, I couldn't help but feel slightly disappointed in myself and the performance of my car as we came in 7th, despite starting in P4. P7 was starting to look like a curse. I decided to keep my helmet on for as long as I could.
Some of the crew and other drivers I was familiar with patted the back of my shoulder as we made our way through the small crowd that was starting to gather and into the media box.
Lights, camera, action.
I've had enough media training to know how to fake looking like my usual smiley self. I answered all the questions calmly and professionally but threw in a joke or two when the opportunity presented itself.
You wouldn't be able to tell that my confidence on the other hand took a big knock earlier this week. I'm really glad we'll be having some time off after this race.
Most of the time, reporters ask the same kinds of questions but this was my first media round since the breakup. I wasn't going to have another panic attack like the night we broke up but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a bundle of nerves either.
Our PR managers made the decision for us to have a quiet breakup. They said it would buy us time and be easier to deal with on our own terms before letting it turn into a hashtag.
Thankfully no one asked me any questions about Luisa or a breakup. Post race interviews were never really my thing. Interviews in general weren't my thing.
"You did good mate, considering you know.."
I would recognise that voice and accent anywhere in the world. It was Daniel Ricciardo.
We were now stumbling our way out of the media box, walking side by side. Danny was probably one of the nicest guys on the grid. A bit of a clown but we all loved him for it. A strong driver too who's just been having awful luck as of late.
"Considering I got dumped just the other day and almost destroyed the front left tire of my car after lap six?" I half joked.
The Australian born, McLaren teammate let out a loud mocking laugh while we continued our walk approaching the papaya motor home. With one big big pull, he opened the door leading us inside.
"Look Lando you're still young and you're an F1 driver for McLaren Racing. I mean you're not a high performance athlete like myself but you're pretty up there you know. Don't mope around too long about this or people will start to notice."
"I still managed to cross the finish line before you though, moping and all." I added with a devilish smirk on my face.
"Yes, consistently heart broken in p7, your majesty Lando Norris everybody!" clowned his friend in his best attempt at an English accent before turning into his driver room.
~~ A few hours later.
We arrived at the little private airport just before two am. I don't know why Zak decided to fly at such an awkward time but I welcomed the free ride. At least this way, I'd be falling asleep and waking up in my own bed after Budapest.
"Thanks again for letting me fly with you Zak, I really appreciate it. I still don't know why you were in such a hurry though."
"Anytime Lando. Get home safe." The CEO and team principal didn't seem to be paying much attention to me as we started to disembark the plane. He was too busy fidgeting with the iPhone in his hands so I shrugged it off and let it go.
"Excuse me Mr. Brown?" The stewardess interrupted.
"Yes Iris?"
"She's asked me to let you know that she's waiting in the lobby," the lady continued. "Something about your phone not going through and the private cars will be brought onto the strip for Mr. Norris and staff."
"Thank you so much for letting me know." He sounded relieved.
"Does Zak have a special lady friend?" I wondered.
Come to think of it, I didn't really know anything about him outside of McLaren. The only ring he wears is a small gold signet on his left pinky. He's never mentioned anything about having a wife or kids and I've never seen anyone close to that at any of the races or at MTC. I guess he was something of a lone wolf. It would make sense.
I made a mental note to ask him about it the next time we went golfing.
"Hey honey, I'm walking off the plane now, I'll see you in a bit. Love you always," I heard him say in a whisper on the stewardess' phone before he waved us goodbye and disappeared into the night.
"Great. Zak definitely has a girlfriend."
The McLaren 570s would be my loaned car for the next two days before heading to Monaco for some rest and relaxation. We had some pretty fun activities lined up with the boys and I was looking forward to being distracted in a different environment.
But first, I needed to iron out a few things at MTC. It's a good thing my apartment in Woking is only 3 minutes, 20 seconds away from there. I think Zac is around 8 minutes away. I could've given him a ride but that doesn't matter now.
If I take the fastest route, I can be home in about 30 minutes.
I can't wait to put my feet up, recharge my batteries and come back ready for action.
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A/N : A bit of a filler chapter but i always appreciate reading well rounded stories.
