F1 oneshots

The Interviewer pt. 2 ≪◦ ❈ ◦≫ Lando Norris

"Here we go," Lando motions towards a black car in the paddock's private parking space.

A sleek 2025 McLaren 750S sits quietly in its slot, awaiting the drive. I gasp involuntarily when I see it, earning a proud grin from Lando.

He presses a button on the key, unlocking the car. I stand there, amazed. I have worked with cars before and driven different vehicles for my job interview, but this is completely different.

The beauty of the car is inexplicable.

"Have you ever taken a McLaren for a ride?" he winks at me.

I blush, looking away to hide it. Lando sees right through me, and when I look back in his direction, he's suddenly standing in front of me, holding the car door open for me to get into the passenger's seat.

"Mademoiselle," his broken French makes me smile, and I take his hand to help me get into the car. Once inside, he gently shuts the door and gets in himself.

After making sure that we've both fastened our seatbelts, Lando looks at me.

"Want to turn her on?"

My heart races at his words, until I realise that he's talking about the car. Embarrassment takes over my expression, and Lando laughs.

"Sorry, Love, that was on me. I shouldn't have phrased it that way."

I chuckle, shaking my head: "Oh, Lando, if you weren't such a sweetheart I'd have left already."

He smirks: "Thank god you love me then, don't ya?"

I grin, pressing the McLaren's start button. Her engine roars to life with a deep growl, reaching deep into my heart.

"Woah," I mutter, making Lando watch me with adoration.

He finally pulls out of the parking slot and makes his way onto the main road to drive to the hotel.

***

The alarm sounds loudly at 6:30 a.m., waking me from my slumber. I roll over in bed, look at the bright clock, and groan - until I remember that it's race day.

I smile and jump out of bed, heading straight to the bathroom to get ready. The outfit for today was sent to me, and I grin excitedly when I see the gorgeous pastel yellow colour on the dress.

Since it's a pretty warm day, I left this outfit for today. The colour perfectly complements my eye colour, and I smile in the mirror after finishing my look.

At exactly 7 a.m., I leave my hotel room with my bag and paddock pass in hand, heading to the exit. As soon as I leave the building, I bump into Laura.

"Good morning, gorgeous!" she smiles, and it automatically brightens my day.

I laugh: "Good morning, lovely. That made my day."

Laura giggles excitedly: "Ready for your first official race day?"

"Oh, yes," I nod while we climb into the taxi that will take us to the track, "barely slept last night."

She grins: "My first time was like that, too. The rush of cars roaring by and knowing you're part of that big family is one of the best things in this world."

I smile. This is a good thing. It's always been my dream to work in Formula 1, especially since my grandfather passed. He thought the world of the sport, and I know he'd be proud if he could see me now.

The drive to the track is short, but the heavy clouds look treacherous as the traffic worsens.

"Looks like it's going to be a wet race day after all," Ruth greets us when Laura and I step out of the taxi.