|Love 4 Apex| Lando Norris

🏎 41 - For the Ones We Remember

The morning air was thick with the weight of expectations, the entire Silverstone circuit alive with energy as fans filled the grandstands. Lando could feel the pressure mounting, knowing that this race wasn't just another stop on the calendar—it was his home race, the one he'd dreamed of winning since he was a kid.

But that was only part of what was on his mind. Last night's confrontation with Franco lingered like an open wound, and the memory of holding Rose in her grief cut through his focus. He had to put everything aside, but it was easier said than done. Today, he was racing not just for the podium, but for something much deeper.

As the drivers gathered for their pre-race briefing, the tension in the room was palpable. Lando took a seat across from Franco, their eyes meeting briefly but intensely before looking away. Rose entered shortly after, her face calm yet marked by the traces of last night's grief. She managed a small smile when she saw Lando, a gesture so fleeting it almost went unnoticed. But Lando caught it, and it was enough to steel his resolve.

When the meeting concluded, Rose approached him. "Thank you for being there last night," she said softly. "I... I needed that." Her words were simple, but the gratitude in her eyes spoke volumes.

"Always," Lando replied, his voice low and steady. "Anything you need."

Franco watched them from a few paces away, his jaw clenched, his expression unreadable. The realization that Lando had stayed with Rose last night, holding her through her grief, hit hard. He was supposed to be the one who does that. But he hadn't even noticed anything was wrong. When Lando had asked if he'd seen Rose, he'd brushed it off, assuming she was somewhere close, fine as always. By the time he'd tried to reach out to her later, she had already gone.

Calls to her were met with short, distant replies, and when he offered to come over, she turned him down, saying she needed space. The usual barriers—different teams, different hotels—had kept him at arm's length, but what stung most was that Lando had noticed her pain before he did. Watching her lean on Lando instead brought a bitter edge to his frustration, a silent reminder of the moment he hadn't been there when she needed someone most.

As Rose walked away, he moved toward Lando, his voice low but his tone sharp. "Listen, today's about her," he warned. "Don't make things more complicated."

Lando met his gaze, steady and unflinching. "You should say that to yourself."

Without waiting for a response, Lando turned and headed toward the McLaren garage. The hum of the crowd faded as he stepped inside, the familiar sounds of the team at work grounding him. Will approached, clipboard in hand, his face set with the seriousness of the day.

"You ready, Lando?" he asked, a subtle look of encouragement in his eyes.

Lando nodded, pulling on his gloves. "More than ever."

As he glanced over toward Rose's garage, he caught a brief glimpse of her, surrounded by her team. Her face was calm, her focus unmistakable. She looked unbreakable, as though last night's heartbreak had only strengthened her resolve. A pang of admiration shot through him, mixed with a burning resolve to do whatever it took to stand alongside her today—on and off the track.

The roar of the engines reverberated through his chest as the lights went out, and in a flash, he launched off the line. The first corner was a chaotic blur, with drivers jostling for position, but Rose was already ahead, pulling her Mercedes smoothly into the lead. Lando kept his eyes trained on her car, pushing hard to stay within striking distance.

Franco was close behind, his McLaren just a few car lengths back, matching Lando's every move. They were flying through each corner with precision, but Lando could feel Franco's presence like a shadow, lurking and relentless. He knew Franco wouldn't let him forget last night's words so easily.