✓ WORKING FOR THE KNIFE ━ lando norris. ¹

[ 043 ] Magic Fabric Of Our Dreaming

     

  

   

( ACT III. ── Fearless )
chapter forty-three / Magic Fabric Of Our Dreaming

   

   

  

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Annika got in trouble in Marina Bay. Well, almost. She could guess now, after the fact, that she came about as close as she could possibly get to disciplinary action, and escaped it by the skin of her teeth.

It started when Max had issues with his car and didn't make it to Q3. Annika ended up qualifying on the front row beside Sainz, and the team (herself included) was keen on the possibility of a back-to-back win for car 12. Unfortunately, she lost control on the third lap and dropped down a few positions with a harmless love-tap on the wall, so from there she was forced to climb back up. That led her to where she was on the final lap, with Lyndon speaking crossly into her ear.

"Annika, this is not a request. If you cannot catch Norris, give back the position."

Annika clamped her jaw tight and continued driving as if she hadn't heard. It was Sainz, Norris, herself, and then Lewis behind. The Ferrari was giving DRS to the McLaren, and she had nothing except Lewis inching up to her gearbox, waiting for her to return the position he had gifted her.

She wanted this more than words could describe.

Victory in Monza had given her a taste for it.

She thought surely, with Verstappen out of sight and out of mind, this could also be hers. But her own human error knocked her loose, sent her askew, and now she had a choice to make: keep going and get herself a podium, or shift off the racing line and concede the success to Lewis.

"This is team orders," Lyndon said severely. "It's not your choice."

Steaming in frustration, Annika pulled the car to the outside of the final turn and stayed in a lower gear, not having to wait long before Lewis zipped past, and she rejoined the racing line.

"Thank you, Annika. Good work. Good race." As usual, Lyndon's voice on the radio was professional and concise, not a single hint that he felt anything at all except acknowledgement.

Annika crossed the line fourth. She couldn't even find it in herself to be happy for Carlos. "Whatever."

Parc ferme had a different energy than usual; it reminded her of when Lewis won in Canada. It did not remind her of when she won in Monza.

Childishly, she wanted to exclaim it's not fair! But she held herself back. Things only got worse when she expressed her regrets.

She ripped off her balaclava and stuffed it into her helmet with her gloves. Wiped her face and neck. Smoothed back pieces of her damp hair. She was drenched in sweat. Singapore was always hot, but compared to how it felt in the car, the blistering night wind was downright refreshing.