GRIDLOCK - Lando Norris [BOOK 1]

07

Against my better judgement, I found myself walking up the hall toward Lando's room. I knew he wasn't going to be in the mood to talk about me.

If I gained any knowledge about motor drivers over the past 21 years, it's to never underestimate how much they care not doing well in their races. And especially, above all else, never be the reason that they are distracted.

As I approach Lando's room, I can hear the sound of music blaring from his direction. That, paired with some loud thumping, and then a loud crash followed. Before I knew it, I was pounding on Lando's door, calling out his name.

There was no answer, no matter how much I would bang, he wouldn't open up. I tried to handle and luckily, the door opened.

When I entered his apartment, the entire room had been flipped upside down.

I couldn't even point out what was what and where it belonged in the first place.

Also, the blaring music wasn't helping me think at all.

"Lando!" I call out.

I could hear his mumbled singing coming from the bedroom. I tip towed past the broken glass on the floor , and made my way over to his room.

There on the end of the bed, a bottle of wine in each hand, sat Lando, in a site I was not prepared for.

"Lando, what is going on?" I yell at him over the music.

He just stares at me, well more like, through me. The eyes that had lately been beaming when they look at me, had returned back to their casual glance from when the season first started.

I exited the room to find where the music was coming from, tip towing past the glass and broken furniture.

I find his phone facedown on the kitchen bench. Picking it up, I noticed that the screen is smashed, but the Spotify app is open, and that is where the music is coming from. Hitting pause, I place his phone back down and return to him in the bedroom where he has not moved.

As I get closer to him, his appearance becomes more evident. His eyes are puffy, his cheeks are wet, and as I kneel down in front of him, removing the wine bottles from his hands, and his eyes finally make contact with mine, the blood shot lines outlining his blue eyes is almost heartbreaking.

"Lando, it's going to be okay" I whisper. "It's all going to be okay". Trying to mimic my words from that first night up on the hill.

To this he sarcastically chuckles through his breath.

"Give it a rest, Evelyn."

"Lando, talk to me" I beg, replacing my hands onto his legs which stiffen underneath my touch. Realising at this moment, it is the first time and the closest my hands have even been on him. "What's going on?"

Suddenly my hands are flung off his legs from him roughly moving them.

"I need you to leave, Evelyn. You aren't welcome here. I don't... want you here." his voice begins to break underneath him, "I didn't invite you here so why are you here" he almost whines.

I relax into defeat on the back of my hills looking down on the floor, the coldhearted disconnected Lando that everyone warned me of is more present than ever.

"What happened today?" I ask.

"Do you know the last time I didn't make it out of Q1. Do you know when that was?" he spits at me.

I shake my head in response.

"Never!" he screams.

And with that, he stands in place and walks out of the room.

I hear his voice from then living area "Just go away, Verstappen" which had both determination and defeat underlying it. And I knew, it was time to go. I couldn't fix anything tonight.

The next day, race day, and I was nervous. Nervous for how things were going to go. Nervous for how Lando was going to be. Nervous for how Zak would be toward me, if things did go bad. And nervous that people would start to place puzzle pieces together.

I made myself as scarce as possible that day and kept out of any eyeline of Max and Lando, and especially Zak.

Lando was starting at the back of the grid and I knew his focus today was going to have to be getting to the very front. The championship depended on it.

By lights out, I sat inside the RedBull garage with my headphones on, watching alongside all of the mechanics and engineers at the monitors.

"We've got a lot to talk about" Johan whispers beside me, and I admit defeat, I just nod my head.

I'm chewing on my fingernails as the race starts and I feel like I'm holding my breath. The team radio is playing against my ears, but I cannot hear a thing, I cannot see anything, but Papaya.

My sole focus seems to be on that number 4, McLaren. Whispering to myself "please, Lando, come on, Lando"

'Yeah, Max, Lando is doing some aggressive driving. He's moved up five places already. Just keep an eye on your tyres, as you might need to be racing him as the laps go on' I hear the announcement through the team radio.

They're right, there is a different sort of aggression towards Lando's driving today.

'Yeah, copy' Max answers.

As the race continues, I watched Lando's car pull up for a pitstop. I've made my way to the front of the garage, and I can slightly see him under his visor.

Pitstops usually only take a couple of seconds, but in that moment, I feel Lando's eyes on me, and mine on him, and times seem to stand still.

What in reality is only two or three seconds, it felt like hundreds of minutes for passing by. The visor blocked any sort of emotion behind his gaze, but I could feel it through my entire body.

Suddenly Lando pulls away, and then Max is inside the pitlane, getting his tyres changed.

Lando is in front of him upon exiting. Charles is in the lead and Pierre is close behind.

As I watch Max pull out of the lane, I am overcome with a terrified emotion. I run back towards screens to watch the rest of the race on fold. Only five laps to go.

Both Max and Lando have been able to overtake Charles and Pierre and Lando is currently in the lead but Max has DRS range. And I know that this is going to be a fight till the very end.

The next couple of minutes happen in slow motion, and I feel and I see everything. Coming up to the turn 11, the final corner, Max goes wide, Lando rides the inside and next minute they're both heading towards the wall.

The uproar that erupts from both the McLaren and Redbull garages shocks you straight to the core.

"That bloody cheat", screams, my mother. "I just fucking knew he would do something like this." My eyes are on the screen but I cannot make out what is happening. The red flag has been waived and the safety cards been deployed.

All screens are on Max, all that is ringing in my ears is news about Max, it's all Max as I watch him exit his car. But I can't see Lando.

With my mind, overtaking my body and my heart, not communicating with my head next minute, I'm yanking my headphones off and sprinting out of the Red Bull garage and straight into the McLaren one. There is too much crowd of people to be able to see what is going on and all of the chatter but nothing is making sense in my head.

Against every rule, and every commonsense, I rush out of the garage across the pit lane, and straight to the McLaren pit wall, where Zach is sat in his chair.

"Is he okay?" I shout, grabbing Zach by the shoulders and turning him around.

Zach looks at me with only hatred in his eyes, "Go back to your garage" .