Tangled in Trophies- Lando Norris

15. Race starts

The days following Evangeline's win at the Australian Open were a strange mix of relief and emptiness. Winning the tournament felt surreal, yet here she was, back in London, free of the relentless routines that had ruled her life for the past months. Olivia had insisted she take a proper break, and Evangeline, for once, actually listened. She spent the days relaxing, wandering around the city, catching up on movies, and taking long, aimless walks just because she could. Every now and then, she'd catch herself thinking about her next tournament and force herself to breathe, reminding herself she'd earned this downtime.

On the morning of the Bahrain Grand Prix, Evangeline found herself flipping between channels on the TV, trying to ignore a nagging voice in her mind reminding her about Lando's race. She knew she'd find some channel broadcasting it, but what would be the point? She'd been trying to keep some mental distance since their time together at the photoshoot, not wanting to let anything distract her. Yet, curiosity kept poking through.

Come on, what's the harm in watching one race? she thought, almost laughing at herself. It's not like he'd even know.

Finally, she gave in, tuning into the race just as the pre-race analysis began. The broadcasters discussed everything from the drivers preseason form to the car's upgrades, and she found herself hooked by the energy and detail. As the teams prepared their cars on the grid, she noticed how intense the atmosphere seemed, even through a screen.

When the race began, she found herself leaning forward, watching Lando's car as he jostled for positions. Each overtaking maneuver, each near miss, each lap brought a new twist of tension. She could feel his frustration, knowing that every second counted. His car seemed to lack the edge it needed, and despite his best efforts, he wasn't breaking into the top five.

Evangeline watched with a tightness in her chest as he crossed the line in sixth place. A respectable finish, yes, but not the kind of start any driver would have been hoping for. She could almost feel the disappointment radiating through the screen. For a moment, she imagined herself in his shoes, dealing with a crowd of questions and cameras right after falling short of his own expectations. It was a kind of exhaustion she knew well.

Switching off the TV, she stared at the blank screen, thoughts still circling. She wondered what he'd say in the interviews—how he'd have to stay composed, take accountability, and maybe even look optimistic. It was strange, this feeling of empathy for him. After all, they barely knew each other outside of their shared sponsorship work and a few scattered text exchanges. Yet, she felt the connection of shared ambition, the loneliness that sometimes came with pushing oneself to the limit.

For Lando, the race had felt like a whirlwind. Sitting in the car, he had run through all the routines, the drilled-in instincts that had been second nature for so long. But somehow, things didn't line up. The car just wasn't giving him what he needed, no matter how hard he pushed.

As he climbed out of the car, frustration gnawed at him. Sixth place. It wasn't a bad result by most standards, but it wasn't enough for him. He wanted a podium finish, something to show for the hours he'd put in over the break. But this race, it felt like all the effort had only brought him halfway.

Walking over to the media area, Lando took a deep breath, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable wave of questions. Reporters and fans alike wanted to know his thoughts, his analysis of the race, and how he planned to improve. The bright camera lights and murmuring crowd filled his senses as he plastered on a faint smile, trying to find the right words.

"How are you feeling about today's result, Lando?" a reporter asked, shoving a microphone toward him.

"It wasn't what we were hoping for," he said, keeping his tone steady, professional. "I think the team and I put in a strong effort, but there's a lot to learn. We'll be back, stronger for the next race, and I'm confident we can build on this." He kept his words measured, avoiding anything that might sound like an excuse. The last thing he wanted was to show how disappointed he actually felt.

Once the interviews wrapped up, Lando's shoulders sagged, the exhaustion finally hitting him as he made his way back to the paddock. His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he briefly considered ignoring it, knowing that there'd be messages from family, friends, and maybe even some fans. But curiosity won out, and he pulled out his phone to see a series of notifications. There was one from his mother, a few from his team congratulating him on the solid start to the season, and another message that caught his attention—a notification that Evangeline had shared a new post, likely celebrating her win in Melbourne.

A surge of conflicting emotions ran through him. He admired her dedication and success, but part of him felt a pang of envy, the result of being reminded just how good she was at what she did. She'd come away with the ultimate prize, and here I am barely scraping by, he thought.

Meanwhile, Evangeline decided to take a step back from the screens for the day. She grabbed her bag and headed out for a much-needed coffee break, wanting to clear her head and process everything in peace. But she couldn't deny that watching Lando's race had stirred something within her—a strange mix of admiration and worry.