Roses || Lando Norris

2

"And it's Max Verstappen, that wins the Abu Dh-" I turn my phone off. Fuck that. I've analyzed the last race of the season alone, with Max, with my team, and there was just nothing I could've done to improve my result. Yes, I was happy for him to win his second championship, yes I was disappointed I lost out by ten points, but I just couldn't get over the massive gap between the two of our cars. Maybe going to another team doesn't seem like a bad idea anymore.

McLaren F1 team. Who would've thought? They paid off yet another driver to look for exciting young talents. That's why, they chose me. Young female racing driver with an impressive record under her belt. The media have been calling Lando and me the most exciting pairing on the grid. Given our age similarity, same nationality, and basically the same upbringing, I could see where they got the idea.

I still think I've made a mistake. I've been trying to convince myself every day of the break it was a good decision. And statistically speaking, it is. But personally? I have never been so nervous before the season in my entire life. Your teammate is your biggest rival, they say. With Max, I was always aware he was better than me. The number one and number two driver roles were established ever since I first joined Redbull. He is also more experienced than me.

With Lando? We have almost the same track record. He finished P2 in the championship two years ago, I did last season. He won the F2 championship before joining F1, I was the runner-up joining F1. He achieved a podium in his first season, and so did I. Despite our long history, I've never really spoken to the guy apart from the few arguments after collisions.

I woke up early this morning. It was like I was thrown out of bed by my nerves because today I'm going to the McLaren HQ for the first time. Nothing big, just a media meeting.

After checking the time, I almost jump out of bed. If I don't leave immediately, I will be late. I throw the laptop in my backpack and run out of the apartment. I'm not even sure why I took it with me, because now it's hitting my back with each step I take down the stairs.

Having finally made it to the car, I speed out of the garage praying there are no speedometers on my way there. I couldn't blemish my spotless track record on the roads.

As I'm taking the scenery around me in, my train of thoughts hits me. Hard. I remember the last interaction I had with Lando. What was up with the trembling hands? The sharp tone he used? His usual demeanor is nothing like that. He always seems so calm and collected. At least from what I've seen. And I've been seeing him around for quite a while now.

He has always been presented as the F1's golden boy. Quiet off the track and a beast on it. Always calm on the radio, always calm when being interviewed, a PR manager's dream. Any F1 team's dream really.

So what was up with him the other day?

I park the car in front of the HQ and take a moment to collect myself, before opening the door. Just like I've somehow summoned him, Lando pulls up to the parking spot right next to mine. I stand next to my car as he opens the door of his to get out. I expect him to greet me, instead, he just walks right by me with long strides. Okay then.

I follow him towards the entrance, where he shows the security guard some sort of a pass. A pass that I don't have.

"No girlfriends." the guard stops me.

"I'm not his-"

"She's not my girlfr-" Lando and I speak at the same time. An offended look covers his face, and a shocked one covers mine.

"Alright, who are you then? Where is your pass?" he raises his eyebrows at me.

"I'm the new driver? Vita Laurent?" I look at him in disbelief. Has he not been reading the news?