Mind the Gap

Chapter 20

landonorris: honoured to team up with @herendporcelainon this hand painted masterpiece for Hungary. Thank you (and sorry about last year) ❤️

Lando's POV:

The crowd roars as I cross the line in qualifying, locking in pole position. The adrenaline still pumps through me as I pull into the pits—everything about this session feels perfect. The car, the setup—today, everything clicks. This is exactly the kind of momentum I need going into tomorrow's race.

I make my way toward the hospitality area, still riding the high, when I spot Carlos leaning against a wall. He's scrolling through his phone but looks up as I approach, a grin spreading across his face.

"Pole position, mate!" he shouts, walking over and pulling me into a hug. "You're on fire!"

"Yeah, it feels good," I say, grinning from ear to ear. "Everything was just right out there."

But as I pull back, I notice Carlos's smile falter slightly. He presses his lips together and glances at his phone, hesitating. There's a moment of reluctance, like he doesn't want to ruin the mood. He's holding something back, and I can tell.

I frown. "What is it?"

Carlos takes a deep breath, clearly conflicted. "Look, I didn't want to be the one to bring this up. You just nailed pole, and I know you're on a high right now... but as your friend, I can't keep this from you."

He hands me his phone, and my stomach drops when I see the headline: "Lucas Alegria's New Girlfriend, Is It Confirmed?" Below it are photos of Ana and Lucas together in Germany. They're likely from the hotel or during the convention.

"What the hell..." I mutter, my jaw tightening.

Carlos shifts uncomfortably. "I'm sorry, mate. I didn't want to ruin your moment, but I thought you'd want to know."

I glance at the photos again, my frustration rising. That fucker. Lucas knows exactly what he's doing—trying to manipulate the narrative, making it look like Ana is involved with him.

"I knew he was planning something," I mutter, shaking my head. "He's trying to make it look like they're together."

Carlos puts a hand on my shoulder, his voice steady. "Look, I get it. It's bullshit, but don't let this mess with your head. You're starting on pole tomorrow. This can wait. Focus on the race."

I clench my fists, trying to push down the anger. "Yeah, you're right."

As I process the news, I spot Oscar standing off to the side, talking to Nat, my PR assistant. Nat's holding her tablet, likely briefing Oscar on something, but I can tell Oscar's focus is elsewhere—on me. After a moment, Nat walks away, and Oscar starts heading in my direction.

"Hey, Osc," I greet him, forcing a smile despite the frustration bubbling beneath the surface.

Oscar raises an eyebrow as he approaches, his expression somewhere between concerned and curious. "You good?"

I shrug, trying to brush it off. "Yeah, just... some crap going on."

Oscar crosses his arms, glancing between me and Carlos, clearly sensing the tension. "Mate, I need you at your best tomorrow. I don't want to be competing with someone who's distracted. It's not a fair fight if your head's somewhere else."

I exhale sharply, nodding. "I'll be fine."

Oscar looks at me for a moment, then smirks. "Look, these PR stunts? They're garbage. People pull this crap all the time. You've got to block it out."

I nod again, appreciating the advice. "Thanks, Osc."

He gives me a reassuring pat on the shoulder. "Just don't mess up tomorrow. I want a proper fight out there. I don't enjoy being P2 with you on pole."

I laugh despite myself. "Yeah, don't worry—I'll bring it."

Oscar walks off, and Carlos turns back to me, his tone a little softer this time. "Compartmentalize, Lando. Tomorrow is about the race. Everything else can wait."

I nod again, trying to shake off the lingering frustration. He's right—Lucas can wait. For now, it's about winning tomorrow.

As the day winds down and I prepare to leave the paddock, I feel the weight of the situation with Lucas still hanging over me. But before I let myself spiral, I pull out my phone and quickly send a message to Ana. I haven't checked my phone all day, not wanting to dive into the noise of social media or tabloids. But I know I need to let her know what's up.

Lando: Hey, just wanted to let you know I'll be busy until the race tomorrow. I won't be on my phone much—need to focus. I'll see you soon though. Hope everything's good on your end.

I stare at the message for a moment before hitting send. The last thing I want is for her to think I'm ignoring her, especially with all this stuff blowing up around us. I feel my phone buzz a few moments later.

Ana: Focus on the race. I'll be cheering for you. We'll talk after.

I smile a little at her response. It's exactly what I needed to hear—she gets it. She knows how important tomorrow is, and that's all that matters right now.

Without another thought, I turn off my phone completely and toss it on the table. I don't need the distractions. Tomorrow is all about the race, and nothing can get in the way of that.

Jon, my trainer, walks into the room, and I fill him in on the situation over dinner. He listens carefully, nodding as I explain the mess with Lucas and the photos in Germany.

"Classic PR manipulation, mate," Jon says, leaning back. "You can't let it get to you. Focus on what's important right now—racing. Block everything else out."

"I know," I say, though the frustration is still there. "It's just hard when it feels like this Lucas thing is deliberately screwing with everything."

Jon gives me a firm but friendly look. "You can't control Lucas or the media. What you can control is how you perform tomorrow. Keep your head in the game."

I nod, taking his advice to heart. "You're right. I'll block it out."

"Good," Jon says, smiling. "Because tomorrow's race is yours to win."

Back in my hotel room, I get ready for bed. My phone stays off, charging on the nightstand. I'm tempted to check it again, but I know better than to go down that rabbit hole tonight. I need my focus, and right now, everything outside of the race can wait.

I take a deep breath, counting sheep in my head—one to a hundred. Anything to clear my mind. I can't afford to let this mess with me.

As I finally start to drift off, I remind myself of what Carlos, Jon, and Oscar said: race first, everything else later.