For Real | Lando Norris

𝑺𝒊𝒙𝒕𝒚-𝒇𝒐𝒖𝒓.

Ophelia

I look from the helmet in my hands to the drivers standing in front of me. "Guys, I really love the idea of you giving me presents, but I really don't want to do this." Daniel and Max haven't stopped laughing since Lando persuaded me to do the hot lap today. We were in the paddock of COTA this morning when Lando reminded me that there aren't many races left and I still needed to make a hot lap with him. I reluctantly agreed and Daniel immediately sprinted off to tell the other drivers that gifted me my graduation gift.

After we got home from England Lando and I had talked about the whole shit-show that is my family. I explained how I had been pushed all my life to be something I'm not and why I was ashamed of that. It was great finally getting it all out. Lando promised to never push me to contact my parents again. To be honest I felt a whole lot lighter without their pressure weighing me down. We had talked all night laying on the couch. When the sun crept over the mountains casting light into our living room I was once reminded how lucky I am to have found somewhere else to call home.

"It's going to be fine, you want to go another lap when you come out, I'm sure of it." Charles tries to encourage me, with a similar grin on his face as the other man. I slap him with my free hand and he pulls a face at me. "Norris, control your woman!"

I feel Lando's arm grip around my waist and he pinches it, which makes me jump up. "I will slap you too, if you keep doing that." I bite at him, raising my hand at him. "Domestic violence is not the answer guys." Carlos laughs at us and I point a finger at him. "That's not something to joke about. I'm being forced against my will and that is also a crime." Carlos rolls his eyes, mocking my attempts at resistance.

"Come on love, it will be fun. I promise you." He grabs my hand, but waits for my nod before leading me onto the track. The other guys follow us, not wanting to miss my green face as I would come out of the McLaren. "Be happy," Pierre winks at me, "you're the first today, so the car is still cold." Daniel nudges him in the side and whispers a little too loud, "That only makes it easier to drift." Pierre just surges and I flip them both off before getting into the passenger's seat.

I drown out the sound of their laughter, which goes easy as Lando starts the engine of the sports car. He double checks my seatbelt, before grabbing the steering wheel. Without warning he puts his foot down and we are off.

The turns are a mix of screeching tires, yelps from me and laughs from Lando. I manage to keep my eyes open all the way and actually start to enjoy it when Lando drifts through the last corners. In my world we are already back seconds after we were off.

I stay still in my seat for a couple of seconds. "Told you it would be fun." Lando's helmet is already off and he winks at me. I close my eyes to let the adrenaline rush through my body a moment more. My door opens next to me and Lando helps me out. Removing my helmet I look at the other drivers still hanging around. Now joined by Yuki and Checo, who probably came looking for their teammates.

"You said she would be green with sickness, she looks fine!" Yuki almost sounds disappointed at my normal state of being. I laugh at him and Pierre, who he is complaining to. "Thanks for the confidence in my stomach." Pierre only winks at me.

"So, do you want to go again?" Charles looks genuinely curious and I think for a moment. "No, but if that is what it feels like when you race I understand much better now why you go into those death machines every other weekend." The whole group laughs at that and we break up to get ready for the rest of the weekend.

***

"He is so screwed tomorrow," Max laughs at me over the music in the club as we watch Lando being crazy behind the DJ booth. I nod laughing as well as taking a sip of my own drink. Lando should not be drinking between races and maybe I should stop him, but I love it when he lets go like this and I might be guilty of giving him a little more than he needed.

"If he has enough water he will be fine," Charles adds to the conversation. The weekend had been okay for the team, with Lando finishing P6. The weekend hadn't been too great for the two of us. America was always a madhouse and outside the paddock I had been mobbed by fans with both love declarations and death threats. Lando had felt guilty enough all weekend for the mayhem he caused, so he was allowed to let loose for an evening.

I dance with the two drivers who are also at the club's VIP area, keeping one eye on my boyfriend at the DJ table. We've joked enough times that he could pursue music if racing didn't work out, but seeing him happy made me consider the real possibility.

The alcohol in my hand and head might add to the warmth growing in my body. Even more when Lando pulls his sleeves up, defining his muscled arms. The laughs next to me alarm me that I had been staring a little too long at my boyfriend and I turn my red head back to the other two.

"Don't let us keep you from taking in the sights," Max jokes and I blush a little harder as I flip him off. It makes him laugh even harder and I feel like a caught school girl. "Don't worry, it's adorable." Charles says and he walks over to Lando to, I assume, bring him back to us. Max and I sit down and watch Charles walk off.

"The last time I saw Lando this drunk was in Amsterdam, but he wasn't all that happy back then." Max looks over the edge of his glass at me as I nod at his statement. That was when I had left to think about moving in together. "Hé, I didn't mean to upset you. You worked everything out right?" That was a weird phrasing of it and the confusion on my face is visible to Max because he adds, "I just mean that what happened that night didn't break you up."

Now I am totally confused. "What happened?" Max's face turns white and he starts stammering. "Oh god Lia, I thought he told you and you guys talked about it by now." My head is foggy from the alcohol and warmth of this place, but it's clear enough to understand that Max was talking about something big. "Max, tell me."

"It's really not my place to-," He stammers again, looking away from me. Charles and Lando are at the end of his gaze, who are walking over this way. "Max, please." My voice is turning desperate. "You really should ask him." Max hurries away and takes Charles by his hand to leave me with Lando. I still don't get what is going on but my consciousness picks up quicker than the rest of my senses right now and anger rises in me. What had he been hiding since that weekend?

"What's going on, I thought-." I don't let him finish and take his hand to lead him outside.

As we walk outside I pull him into an alley next to the club. "What happened in Amsterdam?" My insecurity about the situation is well hidden by the anger rushing through my veins. Lando's face falls and the way his blood disappears from his cheeks gives me confirmation Max was talking about something Lando should have told me weeks ago.

"Max told you?" The guilt in his voice betrays him and the worst pops into my head. I don't want to jump to conclusions so I ask again, voice harsh. "No, he told me to ask you. What the fuck happend in Amsterdam Lando?" He tries to lay his hand on my cheek, but I back away. "What happened!?" Why wouldn't he tell me? Was it that bad that he couldn't say it straight to my face. Tears form in his eyes, but he is still speechless. I throw my arms in the air. "Okay then." I start walking away but he grabs my wrist.

"I stopped it before it could really happen." His voice is so soft, full of guilt and I hear the crack in it as his tears escape. The ground under me splits open and I pry myself loose from his grip. His face in combination with the tears confirmed my worse nightmare. Did he really go there? After everything I told him that had happened to me, with Dylan, with my parents. I close my eyes, taking in a shaky breath, trying to find the love I feel for him and give him the time to explain himself. But anger festers inside me and it takes me all I have not to lash out at him.

"What happened in Amsterdam?" I ask calmly, too calmly. Had he kissed someone? Was it worse? I feel my chest tighten as I watch his tears flow and the expression on his face is a mixture of regret, guilt and love.

--

Did we remember Amsterdam? If you need a reminder read chapter 55. 

Lots of love.