Redline | L.Norris

ten

The next morning, Isla slid into the back of the ordered car, her gaze immediately finding Max already slouched in the seat, looking like he was trying to disappear into it. His sunglasses were perched over his eyes, and the bulk of his jacket made him seem even more withdrawn, like he was bracing for something.

"You look rough," she said, her tone light but teasing.

Max grunted in reply, not bothering to look at her. The door slammed shut, and they were off, the hum of the engine the only sound between them as they made their way to the airport.

A few moments passed before Max broke the silence, his voice low. "Where were you last night?"

Isla sighed, sinking back into her seat. "Stayed in."

Max turned his head slightly, just enough to peer at her over the rim of his sunglasses. He pushed them down, revealing a pair of tired, but sharp eyes. "You can't let the media win," he said, his voice tinged with that familiar edge of stubbornness. "If we all let what they say get to us, we'd all be shitty drivers who get lucky every now and then."

She shook her head, half-smiling at his bluntness. "Lando already gave me the same lecture last night. I still celebrated, but, you know, on a much smaller scale than you."

There was a pause as the car rumbled on. Max's eyes narrowed slightly. "Lando was over?"

Isla rolled her eyes. "Yeah, he came to drag me out. But I wasn't in the mood. So, we had a little champagne and called it a night. Which, by the way, explains why one of us is more put together than the other."

Max didn't respond. Instead, he pulled his sunglasses back on, leaned his head against the window, and shut his eyes, clearly trying to catch some more sleep before they hit the madness of the airport.

Isla settled into the seat, her fingers drumming lightly on the armrest as the minutes ticked by. Then, almost as an afterthought, she heard his voice again. "Be careful with Lando. Don't get caught up in something that'll mess with your driving."

Her gaze shifted toward him, but he was already back to pretending to sleep, his face hidden behind the dark lenses.

Isla's lips tightened into a thin line. The last thing she needed was someone, especially Max, lecturing her on her relationships. But she kept it to herself. For now. They rode the rest of the way in silence.

***

Qualifying day arrived before Isla could even fully prepare herself. It felt like the weekend had crept up from nowhere. The media frenzy had grown louder, and the weight of her recent podium finish felt both like a triumph and a burden. She was starting to get the hang of the routine, but the exhaustion that came with it was catching up quickly.

Alice had informed her that she was due in a small press conference. Isla wasn't exactly thrilled. After the circus the media made of her first podium, she had no desire to indulge them again. But the fines were mounting, and if she wanted to avoid more headaches, she'd have to put on her best public face. At least that's what Christan had lectured her and Max on.

"Here we go again," she muttered under her breath as she walked into the press room.

She slid into a seat on the couch between Lewis and Fernando, both of them offering her friendly smiles. The moment she grabbed her mic, the questions began.

"Isla, we've noticed the new helmet design. Care to elaborate on it?" one reporter asked, microphone poised.

Isla smirked, remembering the conversation she had with Christian on it. She was nervous he wouldn't like the idea, but he seemed more excited than her about it. "It's a four-leaf clover," she said, her tone dry. "Just a little reminder of my luck."

Lewis stifled a laugh beside her, and Fernando gave her an amused smile. They quickly caught on to the game she was playing. 

"Anything more to add?" another reporter pressed.

Isla leaned forward, her gaze sharp and unamused. "No."

Fernando couldn't hold it in any longer, and a full laugh escaped him, making Isla's smirk widen. It was impossible not to see the resemblance to her father in those moments—the same no-nonsense attitude, the same sharp tongue.

As much as she tried to distance herself from Kimi, there were times when the comparisons were just too obvious.

Isla settled back into her seat, waiting for the next barrage of questions, already knowing the dance they would do. The one where they'd try to get her to reveal more, to show a side of her they could twist into a headline. But for now, she was determined to keep her cards close.

Slowly slipping away was the open and bright sunshine and in its place was something a bit more icy. 

***

Isla walked a healthy distance behind Alice after the press conference. She knew her press officer wasn't thrilled with how she acted, but it was arguably better than the past times. Red bull has set the bar low as far as expectations go and the only requirement was zero fines. 

"I heard the press conference was entertaining. Hard to believe with you, Lewis, and Alonso." Isla turned her head and saw Lando walk up with a smirk.

She shrugged her shoulders, "No matter what I do it's not right. So, I decided to take a page out of my dad's book and play the short game. At least now they can run the father daughter headlines for a bit."

The pair walked together towards their garages in a comfortable silence, taking pictures with a few fans that had walked by.

Isla's words echoed in her mind as they walked, the tension from the press conference starting to fade with each step. It wasn't that she cared about the headlines, at least not in the way everyone thought she did. But there was something satisfying about taking control of the narrative for once. If the media wanted drama, let them have it.

The McLaren garage appeared in front of the two and Lando turned to say, "I'd wish you good luck, but we both know you don't need it. Try not to be too jealous of my times today." He winked and walked into the garage.

Isla shook her head and smiled, continuing on down to her respected home for the weekend.

She walked into her driver's room to quickly get changed and meet with her engineer before qualifying started. Unlike the few weeks prior, Isla felt prepared and ready to get after it.

The strategies were quickly gone over and she found herself in the car, checking to make sure everything was working. Christian came up and popped his head over. "How's it looking, kid?"

Isla smiled enjoying every feeling of being in the rocket they had managed to make. "Amazing. Ready to go."

Christian tapped the top of her helmet, "We have a good feeling about this weekend."