falling for your enemy II Lando Norris

2. new driver

Lando's POV

This is the year. I'm calling it. I'm going to be world champion, and I won't let anyone or anything distract me. Fortunately, there's only one rookie this year—not three like last season. Rookies make stupid mistakes and cost everyone points.

Ashton Sidwell. That's the name I keep hearing everywhere. I don't follow the junior categories much, but apparently, he's good—otherwise, Red Bull wouldn't have picked him up.

Anyway, back to focusing. I just stepped into the paddock, waving to the fans on the sidelines, media trailing behind me. Today's fit? Jeans and a Quadrant jumper. Simple but effective.

I head over to the McLaren facility and swap the jumper for a team shirt. There's a meeting for all the drivers today, just to go over the basics for this season before pre-season testing starts tomorrow. I'm not exactly looking forward to it.

I wait for Oscar to come out of his driver's room so we can head to the meeting together. I can't wait to start racing again, but I'm also looking forward to seeing everyone after the winter break—especially Max. He's probably the driver I'm closest to on the grid.

I practically bang on Oscar's door. "Oscar, get out—we need to go now!"

He comes out, tugging on a team shirt identical to mine, rolling his eyes. "Hello to you too, mate."

We head to the meeting room in comfortable silence. That's one of the best things about Oscar—he's good company, and you don't need to keep talking to fill the silence. Plus, he doesn't drain my social battery, which is rare.

When we step into the room, most of the drivers are already there. Oscar veers off to chat with Logan, so I glance around, nodding at a few familiar faces. Just as I'm about to take a seat, I feel a hand on my shoulder and hear a low voice in my ear.

"Hey, Lando."

I break into a grin and turn to face Max, giving him a quick hug. "Max! Long time no see."

As I pull back, I catch sight of someone standing behind Max, looking at me with an annoyingly cheerful smile. Oh, great. That's the face I've been seeing plastered all over social media. Jesus, he looks even more annoying in person. He's wearing goddamn sweatpants. Who does that on their first day in Formula 1??

I sigh and let go of Max, only for the guy to immediately step forward.

"Hi, Lando. I'm Ashton Sidwell, the rookie. It's nice to meet you." He holds out a hand, and I can't help but leave him hanging. His hand falls back to his side, but he's still smiling—too much. There's something about him that just grates on me. And then it clicks.

I turn back to Max, eyebrows raised. "Wait, wait, wait. This is 'Ash'? Your Ash?"

Max raises an eyebrow. "My Ash?"

"Your best friend?" I clarify, slightly incredulous, looking Ashton up and down.

Before Max can answer, Ashton speaks up, laughing a little. "Yup, that's me. And looks like I'm not entirely friendless here. Lucky me, right?"

I just look between the two of them, feeling a twist of annoyance. Without another word, I leave them standing by the door and take a seat across the room. It's not exactly what I'd call sulking, but it's definitely a bummer finding out that my on-grid 'best friend' now has his actual best friend as his teammate. This season's going to be...interesting, to say the least. And lonely it looks like.

Ashton's POV

I glance back at Max, brows knit. "I don't think he likes me."

Max just shrugs. "He's not big on change, but he'll warm up eventually. Just trust me on that one."

I start to grin, nudging him lightly. "So, your Ash, huh? Do you talk about me a lot with your famous friends? Brag about me a bit?"

Max smirks, rolling his eyes. "You're unavoidable, like a nasty infection."

He turns and heads toward a seat, leaving me standing there, half-laughing, half-frozen. That's Max for you—he bullies me like this, but I know it's just his twisted way of showing affection. Pretty sure, anyway.

A few seconds pass, and I'm still taking it all in, when Daniel Ricciardo plops down in the seat next to me, clapping me on the shoulder.

"Hey, Ashton! Welcome to the Red Bull family—it's great to have you here," he says, with an easy grin. Then he glances over to Max with a wink. "Hi, Max."

"Thanks, I'm really excited," I say, feeling an embarrassing mix of giddiness and absolute terror. I'm really here, sitting among legends—and soon, I'll be racing against them. Even Lewis Hamilton is across the room. I don't know if I'm going to puke or cry. I really shouldn't have worn sweatpants. I feel like an idiot.

The meeting begins, and it drags on—and on. Time slows as they run through every detail, expectation, and new rule for the season. After what feels like hours, the meeting finally wraps up, and we're all dismissed for the day.

I find myself trailing Max back to the Red Bull hospitality, still processing the fact that this is actually my life now. Back in my driver's room, I swap my team shirt for my hoodie and glance at myself in the mirror. Yep, back to pajamas, I guess. The media's already plastered my "look" everywhere, so why fight it?

There's a knock on my door, and I hear Max's voice from the hallway. "Ash, we're heading to the hotel now. It's getting late."

✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧ ✦ ✧

Arriving at the hotel, Max and I part ways, his room a floor below mine. I swipe my keycard, open the door, and take in the scene.

"Holy shit," I murmur, stunned. This isn't a room; it's a full-on suite. There's a sleek kitchen, a living room with a giant TV, and another door leading to—what I can only assume—is the bedroom. My bags are already here, scattered neatly around the living area, and they look like they've somehow multiplied since I last saw them. But that's not my biggest concern right now.

I walk into the bedroom, and my jaw drops. It's massive, and to my right, there's a shower and a bathtub just in the room, no walls separating them from the bed. Luxury to the max. Another door leads to a bathroom with a double sink. This is next-level.

After taking it all in, I collapse onto the couch, letting my eyes drift shut for just a second. But before I can fully relax, the door clicks open. I turn my head and freeze.

Lando Norris is standing in the doorway, looking just as shocked to see me here. Trailing right behind him is a girl I don't recognize, her eyes darting between Lando and me in confusion.

What. The. Actual. Fuck.