Love 4 Apex | Lando Norris

🏎 1 - The Starting Line

"And radio check, Rose," came Mark's calm but focused voice over the team radio.

There was a brief pause before Rose's cheerful tone came through, full of energy. "It's Friday theeen... it's Saturday, Sunday, what?" she sang, bopping her head to an imaginary beat. A second later, she belted out louder, "IT'S FRIDAY THEEEN... IT'S SATURDAY, SUNDAY, WHAT?!"

Mark's chuckle broke through the comms. "Yeah, loud and clear. You're good," he replied, his amusement barely contained.

With the mood lightened, Rose settled into her rhythm on the track, weaving her car through the iconic Silverstone corners with precision. The laps came together smoothly, each sector time improving as the session progressed. By the end of FP1, she had clocked the fifth-fastest time, a solid result for the session, finishing just behind the Red Bulls and the McLarens.

"Great session, Rose," Mark said over the radio as she completed her final lap. "P5 on the board. The car looks consistent. How's it feeling?"

"Not bad," Rose replied, a hint of determination in her tone. "A little understeer through Maggotts and Becketts, but overall, pretty stable."

"Copy that. We'll make adjustments for FP2," Mark said. "Good start to the weekend."

As Rose pulled into the pit lane and climbed out of the car, she glanced up at the monitor and caught sight of Lando's name in P3. A smirk tugged at the corners of her lips as she grabbed her water bottle.

"Alright, Norris, enjoy your little moment up there," she muttered under her breath, a playful glint in her eyes. "Let's see if you can keep it in quali."

As FP1 concluded, Rose handed her helmet to a mechanic and strolled toward the team briefing room. Her mind was already shifting to the next sessions, thinking of how to fine-tune her approach for FP2 and quali. The competition was tight, but she thrived in these high-pressure weekends, especially here at Silverstone—a circuit that held a special place in her heart.

By the time qualifying wrapped up on Saturday, she'd secured a solid P3 on the grid. It wasn't pole, but it was a strong position to launch her race, with Lando right behind her in P4. The thought of battling him again brought a smirk to her face; their on-track rivalry always seemed to push them both to the limit.

Now in her third season in Formula 1—and her first with Mercedes—she had come a long way. Breaking barriers as the sport's first female driver, her debut with Williams two years ago had been met with intense scrutiny. But after proving her worth on the track, the spotlight had shifted to her skill and determination, leaving little room for questions about her place in the sport. 

At just 21, Rose had already made her mark, having won the Formula 2 championship before moving up to F1. She had raced alongside Lando for years, and their rivalry had become a defining part of both their careers. Lando, in his fourth season with McLaren, was known for his sharp racing instincts, but neither of them had yet claimed that coveted first Grand Prix win.

As if on cue, Lando appeared, strolling over with his usual cheeky grin, helmet in hand.

"Look at you," he teased, glancing at her Mercedes uniform. "First season with Mercedes, and you're already Lewis Hamilton's teammate. Big-time now, huh?"

Rose smirked, leaning back against the wall. "What can I say? Mercedes likes making history, like partnering the first female driver in F1."

Lando chuckled. "Meanwhile, I'm still trying to keep Daniel from running me off the track at McLaren."

Rose rolled her eyes, a grin tugging at her lips. "Please, Danny is probably doing all the work while you're goofing off."

Lando placed a hand over his chest, pretending to be offended. "Excuse me, I take my goofing off very seriously."

Rose laughed, nudging him lightly. "Yeah, I've seen your Instagram. It's a miracle McLaren hasn't kicked you out yet."

Their easy banter filled the air. Despite the intense competition of Formula 1, their friendship remained strong, built on years of shared experiences both on and off the track.

"So, how's Danny?" Rose asked, shifting the conversation. "Still pretending to be the serious one?"

"Oh, absolutely," Lando said, his eyes gleaming with mischief. "But don't be fooled—he's just as bad as me. We've got some pranks lined up for the team."

Rose shook her head, smiling. "You two are trouble."

"Hey, teamwork makes the dream work, right?"

"Sure," Rose replied, smirking. "If the dream is to get both of you kicked out of McLaren."

Lando grinned widely, eyes sparkling with mischief. "Nah, Dan and I are the dream team." He chuckled, leaning back casually. "Anyway, how about we make this race a little more interesting?"

As they continued to joke, Rose couldn't help but think about their long-standing rivalry. They had been counting their wins over each other since they were kids, and though Rose was fiercely competitive, they were now tied—140 wins each. The thought lingered at the back of her mind as they both eyed their first Formula 1 Grand Prix victory.

Rose crossed her arms, smirking. "A bet?"

Lando winked. "Loser buys dinner. Winner picks the restaurant."

"Remember last time we made a bet?" Lando teased. "I still owe you a coffee from Monaco."

Rose smirked, tilting her head. "You can add it to the bill when I win today."

Lando raised an eyebrow, his competitive streak igniting. "Alright, but if I win, we're going to that little Italian place with paper menus."

"Deal," Rose replied, her grin widening. "But if I win, we're going somewhere fancy. I'm talking silverware and tablecloths."

Lando snorted. "You wish, Page. I'll be the one celebrating at the finish line."

They exchanged competitive glances, but the playful banter continued. Their friendship had grown over the years, strengthened by their shared passion for racing and the history they had together. Their fathers had been close friends, and they'd grown up racing side by side. Now, they were fighting for their first Grand Prix victory, but some things—like their connection—never changed.

Lando pulled on his helmet, grinning as he headed back toward his garage. "Don't get too comfortable with your P3. I'll be right behind you."

Rose smirked, giving him a light nudge. "We'll see. Maybe I'll have dinner ordered by the time you cross the line."

Lando laughed as he jogged back toward McLaren's side, but Rose stood there a moment longer, watching him. Their relationship had always been full of fun and jokes, but for Rose, it felt like something more. Something Lando, in all his obliviousness, hadn't quite noticed.

But that was racing—fast, unpredictable, and always full of surprises.