Tangled in Trophies- Lando Norris

1. Evangeline May Vittori

At twenty-two years old Evangeline Vittori seemed to have the world at her feet. A tennis phenom, she had conquered courts across continents, her name etched onto the biggest trophies five years in a row. But if the crowd thought her invincible, they didn't know the Evangeline beyond the power serves and unbreakable backhands. To them, she was cold, too intense, a champion who won with an unsettling ease—perhaps too much for their liking. She had become hated, resented for her ability to shut down the possibility of underdogs and fan favourites. Evangeline Vittori bottled every opponent and she did so with ease, The girl hadn't lost a match in two years, having one of the longest undefeated records in the sport. But little did anyone know that her talent and drive to win came at a cost. One very few knew about.

Evangeline Vittori grew up in Portafino Italy. Once, Italy was home, a place of golden summers and her mother's laughter echoing through cobbled streets. But when her mother's light faded, so did Italy. Her father, grief-stricken and unreachable, packed up their lives and moved to England, where their new world was colder, quieter, and nothing like the home they'd left behind. At just the age of 9 Evangeline lost both her home and her mother, something she never truly recovered from. The warmth her mother had brought into her life was gone, and in its place, her father's relentless drive filled the void. Tennis became his obsession, a way to mold her into something resilient, something unbreakable. As her father's grief hardened, it morphed into something relentless. He poured every spare pound into Evangeline's tennis career, her only path forward. Tennis wasn't just a game to him; it was her purpose, her duty—and her burden. In the years that followed, each victory came not with celebration but with a harsh reminder of her father's sacrifices, the constant insistence that she could not afford to fail. Every match she lost was a weeks worth without fun, every mistake led to punishment, although never physical. Evangeline learnt from a young age that failure was not worth it, it led to suffering and only suffering. Although she only ever thought that of herself, failing was ok for others. Not for Evangeline.

Now, undefeated and with every title within reach, she felt that her victories were as much a weight as they were a triumph. Her winning streak was something to be feared, even hated. There was no underdog story for her, no sympathy from fans or peers. Instead, she was a symbol of unattainable dominance, a champion with no friends on the court and little warmth in her life. And though the world saw only the champion, Evangeline saw only a cage—one she was no closer to escaping than she'd been that day her father took her hand and pulled her away from Italy forever. Evangeline Vittori had not known warmth or freedom since the day she stepped foot on the tennis court, even now with her farther no longer with her, both parents at rest, she still felt the grasp he had on her career, she knew shed never truly escape it.