I can do it with a broken heart (Lando Norris)

23. Down Bad

"Now I'm down bad crying at the gym
Everything comes out teenage petulance
Fuck it if I can't have him
I might just die it would make no difference"

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Hannah Scott cancels forthcoming shows and suspends tour indefinitely amidst rumours of a split from her record label, drug abuse and mental health concerns.

The headline caught Lando's eye immediately as he sat in his hotel room scrolling through his phone. This was big news, something had to have happened. He'd seen first-hand what Hannah could go through and keep performing if they'd cancelled all the shows, and according to the article given no indication of when they may be looking to reschedule them, something awful had happened.

It had been a month since he'd seen her in London and he hadn't heard from her. He'd thought about texting her a few times but wasn't sure if it was the right thing to do or not.

She'd messaged him briefly after the TV appearance he'd watched to say Cassie had confessed she'd set him up in Monaco, apologising again for how sorry she was he'd been dragged into all this. She had a lot to sort out she said, but she'd wished him luck with the last few races of the season and that was the last time he had heard from her.

He had made the assumption she was busy with rehearsals as the tour was due to resume but the headlines he was reading disproved that theory.

The comment sections under the articles were full of angry fans who'd spent a year waiting for a show that was now not going to happen. He could understand their frustration but he sincerely hoped Hannah wasn't looking at what was being said about her because it was brutal.

He hesitated for a moment longer, fingers hovering over the dial button before he called her.

It rang and rang and he was almost ready to give up when she answered. "Lando?"

"I just wanted to check in and see how you're doing?" He said softly. "I saw the news, about the tour."

She didn't answer, instead, the sound of muffled sobbing filled the phone. "It's a fucking mess." She got out in the end. "I don't know what to do?"

"Have you been drinking?" He asked quietly, he already knew the answer from the slur of her words but he felt like he needed to ask.

"I can't... I can't sleep. I don't know what to do. Everything is so stupid. I'm so stupid. How could I trust them and let them do this to me?" She cried. "I just need it all to stop, I can't do this anymore. I can't keep doing this to myself."

"Hannah, is there anyone there with you?" He asked. "Where are you?"

"I'm in Miami. I came home to try and clear my head a bit." She mumbled. "Not that it's fucking worked."

"I'm in Vegas, for the race. Why don't you come and join me?" He suggested. "I don't think you should be on your own at the minute."

"I can't. I can't go out and face all those people. They all hate me." She sobbed. "They're right too. You should hate me."

"You don't have to go to the race, you can stay in the hotel and get some rest." He said quickly. "Is there someone we can call to come and keep you company if not?" He'd never heard her sound quite so defeated and helpless and it was scaring him. She sounded like she'd completely given up.