Redline | L.Norris

six

Isla wasn't expecting much out of Monaco, but she at least wanted a single day of stress-free rest. Instead, she was having to work with the Red Bull PR team about a few photos that were taken of her on a boat with Lando night one.

"Look, I know it doesn't show it, but Max and Kelly were there along with a few of Lando's friends. Those pictures are taken out of context." She was rubbing her temples as she sat in front of her computer on a video conference.

"And we believe you. But we cannot help what the headlines are saying. One week into your rookie season and they are spinning the story of you sleeping with the grid." Alice was on the other side, working with a few others to see how to undo the story.

"I tripped over god knows what and nearly fell off the side of the boat. Lando caught me before I could fall into the water. I hate how that is getting spun." Isla knew that paparazzi could be cruel, but selling only half the story was something that blew her mind.

Alice nodded sympathetically, her brow furrowed in concern. "I get it, Isla. But you have to understand how these stories sell. The narrative of a rookie making waves with established drivers? That's gold for them."

Isla sighed, her frustration bubbling. "But it's not true! I came to Monaco to relax before the next race."

"I know, and we're doing everything we can to manage it. We'll issue a statement and emphasize the group dynamic. We'll show that you were just hanging out with friends. Maybe we can even arrange a few public appearances to shift the narrative."

"Public appearances? Seriously?" Isla raised an eyebrow. "I just want to be taken seriously as a driver, not as someone's gossip column."

"I understand, but this is part of the game," Alice replied. "If we can get ahead of it now, it'll save you from bigger headaches later on. Just think of it as a PR exercise."

Isla leaned back in her chair, trying to process everything. "Fine. But I want to be involved in what we say. I don't want to come off as a PR robot."

"Absolutely," Alice said, a hint of relief in her voice. "We'll make sure your voice is heard. Let's schedule a follow-up meeting after you've had a moment to gather your thoughts. For now, try to focus on the track. That's where you can really show them what you're made of."

Isla took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the situation but also a flicker of determination. "Okay, I'll do my best. But I refuse to let this define my season."

"That's the spirit!" Alice smiled. "And remember, you've got a whole team behind you. We'll turn this around."

As the call ended, Isla glanced out the window. Max walked back in the room and asked how it went. "Don't pretend you weren't listening in. I don't need you lying to me too." Her gaze shifted to him as he sat on the couch next to her.

"Alright. Kelly has already made a post about that night, showing everyone on the boat. It'll blow over." He watched as she shook her head. "I know why my dad was the way he was now. Maybe I should take a page out of his book."

Kimi Raikkonen was known for his stoic demeanor and short responses. But the difference between the two is that he wasn't acting, and Isla would be. "Or you could ignore it and just race. When the press asks you about personal matters, simply say you are here to race and would like to focus on those type of questions."

Isla rubbed her hands over her face. "They won't be happy with that answer, and you know it."

Max smiled, "Who cares? I piss them off all the time."

Isla couldn't help but chuckle, the tension in her shoulders easing just a bit. "Yeah, but you've built up your reputation over the years. I'm still the new kid. They're just waiting to pounce on anything I say or do."

Max shrugged, his expression casual. "Let them pounce. If they want a story, give them one worth telling. Just show them how you race. Let the track do the talking."

Max leaned forward, his tone more serious. "And don't forget, you've got talent. You earned your spot on this grid, and people will notice that if you give them something to watch."

"Thanks, Max. I needed that." Isla felt a wave of gratitude wash over her. "It's just frustrating when I want to be known for my skills and not for who I'm hanging out with."

"I get it. But you're not defined by this. Just keep your head down, and when you're on that track, let loose. Show them who you really are." He leaned back, a smirk playing on his lips. "And trust me, the more you win, the less they'll care about who you're seen with."

Most of the time was spent hanging out with Kelly, Max's girlfriend, or staying inside. The paparazzi already knew the small group was there, which made Isla wary about showing herself in public. Before long, they were boarding the private jet headed to Australia.

For PR purposes, Lando and Daniel decided to fly out a day later to help ease some of the tension surrounding Isla. While Lando felt terrible about what happened, there wasn't much he could do to change it. Isla had told him to let her fall next time, giving him a spark of hope that she might actually hang out with him again.

As Lando and Daniel walked into the hotel where most of the drivers were staying, they spotted Max sitting at the lobby bar with Isla. The two seemed to be engaged in a heated conversation, making Lando hesitate about approaching them. But Daniel, curious, quickened his pace toward their direction.

"What could the two of you be getting so worked up about this early in the week?" he asked. They watched as Isla shook her head, while Max glared at her.

"Nothing. Just a slight disagreement," Max replied, finally diverting his gaze from Isla. "How was your flight?"

Daniel glanced between them, debating whether to push further but decided against it for Isla's sake. He knew how far he could push Max before he shut down, and Isla was still someone he was figuring out.

"Flight was fine. Lando got a little drool on my shoulder, but other than that, it was uneventful," Daniel said with a smirk as Lando playfully hit his arm. "I did no such thing!" Lando protested, and Daniel caught the small smile on Isla's face at their banter. He sent her a quick wink and pointed out towards the lobby. "We should probably check in. The two of you going to be okay?" They both nodded at him and Daniel had no choice but to accept that answer.

As they walked off, Max turned back to Isla and continued, "His opinion shouldn't matter to you. You are a grown woman and have nothing to be sorry about. You didn't do anything."

Isla ran a hand through her hair, "While my dad might not a constant figure in my life now, he used to be. He's never been into the media and for him to send what he did means I've already let him down one week into the season."

Isla glanced back down at the text from her dad and reread it for the millionth time.

Dad

Head down and focus on racing. The media can end your career quicker than you know. You're better than this.

Max snatched her phone away and put it in his pocket. "We have a team meeting in the conference room here. You can have your phone back when you've stopped being stupid."

He got up, prompting Isla to follow. "I'm being stupid? How the hell is me caring about my father's options stupid?"

"When you nearly start crying at the age of 22 all because of a text that took him thirty seconds to write, you are being stupid. Like he said, you're better than this."

Isla smacked his arm at the last words. "You're an ass."