|Love 4 Apex| Lando Norris

🏎 25 - Unfinished Laps

Engines roared to life as the grid assembled, every car idling with a fierce anticipation that echoed the tension in the drivers' minds. Lando sat in his McLaren, eyes narrowed, jaw set, his focus razor-sharp. His car was slotted in P1, but he could feel Rose's presence directly behind him on the grid. He glanced in his mirrors, catching sight of her Mercedes just as the lights began their countdown sequence. She hadn't spoken to him for weeks, and since yesterday, she hadn't even spared him a look during the driver briefing or qualifying. It was like he didn't exist, her gaze icy, locked onto the track.

Five red lights. His grip on the wheel tightened, heart pounding as the adrenaline surged.

Lights out, and away they go! His reaction was lightning quick, launching him cleanly into Turn 1 with Rose right behind him, her Mercedes closing the gap with unyielding precision. They'd both nailed the start, her car sliding into his slipstream as they barreled toward the first high-speed chicane. He felt her presence like a shadow, the hum of her engine vibrating just behind his as they dove into the opening corners.

The first laps were intense, every curve and corner a ruthless game of cat and mouse. Lando pushed his McLaren to its absolute limit, weaving through the serpentine esses, clipping every apex with millimeter precision. Yet, no matter how hard he fought, Rose was right there, a constant threat, her car in his mirrors like a tireless predator. Each time he gained an inch, she matched him, her silver machine darting in and out of the tight lines, poised to strike.

"She's putting pressure on you, mate," his engineer's voice crackled in his ear. "Keep it tight. She's going to try to force a mistake."

But Rose wasn't waiting for a mistake—she was creating opportunities, testing him with each approach, every aggressive brake into the corners, stealing his line, probing for any weakness. Every time he defended, she was there, forcing him to drive flawlessly. Lap after lap, they tore around the track, neither giving an inch.

As the laps wore on, he felt the strain in his arms and shoulders, sweat trickling down his face. The Austin heat and her unrelenting attacks wore on him, his personal worries pressing in at the edges. He shook his head, steadying himself. Focus, Lando. Focus.

They thundered down the straight, his McLaren pulling ahead briefly, only for Rose to close the gap by the next corner, her Mercedes snaking up behind him, precision honed, her urgency mounting with every lap. Heading into Turn 12, she darted up the inside—a bold move that forced him wide. He fought back instantly, cutting her line as they raced side by side through the chicane. Their wheels nearly touched, cars so close he could see her helmet shifting in his mirrors. She wasn't giving an inch, and he had no room to breathe.

By lap 38, Lando was running on sheer willpower. Each turn felt like a battle, his body screaming from the strain as he fought to keep her behind. Rose's Mercedes was there, right in his mirrors, edging closer with each breath, almost brushing him as they neared Turn 18, a fast left-hander leading to the long straight. Her car darted at the apex, her desperation tangible as she closed in for one final push. And in a split second, it all went wrong.

Coming out of Turn 18, Rose's front wing clipped the left rear tire of Lando's car as she tried to slide through on the inside, her Mercedes and his McLaren suddenly locked together as they shot down the straight. The contact was brief, but enough—his car jolted sideways, pulling hers with it as they scraped along the track, fighting for control.

Everything erupted in a blur. Tires screeched, metal crunched, and in an instant, Rose's Mercedes crashed into his side. Both cars veered off-track, a tangled mess of rubber and steel slamming into the barriers.

For a heartbeat, there was silence. Both cars sat still. Lando's head swam as he unstrapped his steering wheel, adrenaline pounding. He pushed his cockpit open, stumbling onto the gravel. Across from him, he saw Rose climbing out, anger flashing in her eyes as she yanked off her helmet, storming toward him.