Misscommunication||LANDO NORRIS

13

6 months later
Lizzie

I open my eyes, squinting like a mole in daylight as the brutal Monaco sun filters through these ridiculously floor-to-ceiling curtains. Kate's place—bless her heart for letting me crash here when my own apartment started feeling more like a sad storage unit for bad memories and leftover takeout containers.

I stretch my arms up like a tired cat, then glance over at the clock on my phone.
5th of July 2024—Wednesday.
Midweek slump? Check.

I sigh with relief. No race for another week and a half. That means no screaming engines, no awkward media questions, and—best of all—no stressing about podiums that have been, well, kinda absent lately. Since Miami back in February, I haven't landed anywhere near the top three, and yeah, that stung. Hard. But weirdly, people seem to have taken their eyes off me, which feels like a blessing and a curse. Out of sight, out of mind, right?

Charles and I? We've been "together" for six months now. Except here's the plot twist—around the start, I realized what I felt for him was more "friend zone" than "romantic zone." So I told him straight up. To his credit, he totally got it. Thought he'd jumped the gun assuming it was something more. Honestly, I should've known better—romance with Charles always feels like a slow-loading app stuck on buffering.

Kate, on the other hand, has been fully invested in our "relationship." She thinks the public and the Ferrari fans are all aboard the Lizzleship (Lizzie + Charles), and breaking it up now would cause more damage than a crash on the last lap. So, yeah, fake dating it is. For the team, for the image, for the never-ending circus of F1 drama. Meanwhile, Charles and I have patched up our friendship—it's different now, but solid. We're basically pros at pretending to be a couple, and I swear we could probably win an Oscar for our performances.

Lucky for me, Charles lives in the same apartment complex as Kate, so staying here doesn't feel like a betrayal or a tactical escape.

As for Lando?
Crickets.
I haven't spoken to him in six months. Seen him around the paddock, yeah. He's killing it on the track—well, mostly. But his off-track image? Total dumpster fire. Media says he's acting reckless, being a nightmare to teammates, and looking like he hasn't slept since 2019. The guy's been out clubbing almost every night, leaving with a new girl like it's a rotating door. So that whole "I'll wait for you" thing? Yeah, apparently that was a lie. Or maybe he just got bored. Either way, he's the last thing I want on my mental playlist right now. My focus is getting back on the podium, not dealing with emotional potholes.

"Phone call incoming, cupcake!" Kate's voice echoes from the hallway. She bursts in, rocking the mini silk pj set I got her for her 21st last year—yes, we have matching sets, and yes, I'm still lowkey obsessed with her style. Her black hair is up in a messy bun, and those glasses perched on her nose? Classic Kate.

I grab the phone, putting it to my ear while Kate plops down on the bed like it's her throne.

"Hello, Mum," I say, trying to sound less exhausted than I feel.

"Liz-bear! Just calling to say you're flying out tomorrow to Italy—for a whole week! The Norris villa!" Her voice is all sunshine and fireworks. "Dad, Owen, the whole Norris family's coming."

Kate's eyes light up when she hears Owen's name. Oh, the secret crush situation. I try not to roll my eyes too hard.

Wait... when the hell did this become a thing? And the Norrises? That's a ticking time bomb.

"So, the Norris family, as in—"

"Yes, Liz. Lando's going to be there. I know you two had your little... thing. But maybe this week is your chance to rekindle your friendship. You two were so close once," Mum says like it's a Disney movie plotline.

Mum never took the Lando drama seriously. I swear, the night after everything blew up, she was already planning a family get-together to "fix" us. Yeah, that never happened.

"Why now though?" I ask, suspicion thick in my voice. "We haven't had a family holiday in four years."

"Well, you and Lando have a week off, Owen can take the time, and the villa was basically begging for some company," she chuckles. "Plus, I think it's time you two talked."

I hesitate. "I don't know if I can make it," I say, but Kate's glaring at me so hard I almost swear I feel a third eye burning into my soul.

I cover the phone and whisper, "Liz, you have to go. It might actually be fun. And if you bring a plus one..." she trails off, the eyebrow raise saying everything.

I uncurl my hand, glaring at the phone. "Mum, you're not asking—this isn't a 'maybe.'"

I glance at Kate again. Her grin is pure mischief.

"Fine. Send the details. We're going to Italy," I say, trying to sound excited but mostly preparing for emotional chaos.

I boop Kate's nose. "Better get packing, sugarplum. This might just be the worst decision I've made since that time I tried to fix a toaster with a hairpin."

She laughs. "Bring it on, drama queen."

—————————————-—————————————

The next morning rolls around, and me and Kate are packed and basically ready to bounce. I'm sitting on the edge of her bed, staring at my suitcase like it's gonna magically fill itself with less drama and more snacks. Kate's already in full "Let's get this show on the road" mode, checking her phone and doing a little impatient foot tap that somehow makes me wanna move faster. I throw her my phone and say, "Girl, you better grab us a taxi before I start losing it." Honestly, I'm not even sure if the taxi gods are on our side today, but fingers crossed.

Before we officially jet, I gotta hit up Charles — gotta keep him in the loop, y'know? So I march over to his door, knock lightly, and it swings open almost immediately like he's been waiting for me. 

"Liz, how are you? Early bird much?" he teases with that grin that somehow melts my brain every single time.

I roll my eyes, half-smiling, "Yeah, this is probably a one-time only special. You'll never see me this awake at dawn again, guaranteed." I flash him a grin 

"I just wanted to let you know, me and Kate are doing this super last-minute trip to Italy. We'll be back in a week, just in time for media day and all that nonsense," I tell him, conveniently skipping the part about the Norris family reunion—and all the unresolved drama that comes with it. Honestly, I'm not ready to drop that bomb on Charles yet. Let's not stir that pot before the pasta's even cooked.

He raises an eyebrow and laughs, "Last-minute, huh? That's you all right. I'd say have fun, but you know you're the queen of parties anyway."

I smirk and wrap my arms around him for a quick hug — not too long, don't wanna get emotional and ruin my vibe — before I start backing away like I'm escaping the scene of a crime.

But, of course, I can't help myself. I turn back, all mock-innocent.

"So, what do you want when I get back? Wine or a stuffed toy?" I ask, because honestly, who doesn't want both?

He winks like he's got some secret, "You know which one, Jones."

"Stuffed toy it is," I say with a grin, already planning which ridiculous plushie I'm gonna bring him. Maybe a llama? Or a giant sloth? Sloths are the vibe.

Italy, here I come. Hopefully, this week doesn't turn into a full-on reality TV episode. But if it does? Well, grab the popcorn, because I'm coming in hot.