Thanks to Norris

part 65- Pr

The weekend at Spa had barely settled in my mind when my phone buzzed with a message from Toto: "Can you meet us at the garage? Need to discuss something important." I felt a pit open in my stomach, but I told myself it was probably just routine—maybe some team strategy or updates for Zandvoort.

But what I didn't know was that meeting was going to be hell.

I arrived at the garage, the familiar hum of the team around me, but the atmosphere felt heavy—like the air had thickened. Toto was waiting, his usual calm presence tinged with something I couldn't quite place. Alongside him were the team principals and a few engineers, faces serious, eyes locked on me the moment I stepped in.

Before I could even take a breath, Toto began.

"We need to talk about the situation with Lando. It's becoming a distraction for the team," he said, voice firm but measured. "The tension, the ups and downs—it's affecting focus. The media, the fans, everyone's watching."

I felt my heart hammering. I wanted to speak up, to explain how complicated it was, how much we were trying—how I was trying—but the words caught in my throat.

They went on—discussing professionalism, expectations, and the need for stability going into the next race. It felt like they were delivering a verdict, and I was on trial.

I kept my face steady, but inside, anger and frustration roared. The last thing I wanted was to be lectured about something so personal, so tangled. I was racing against the best in the world, yet here I was being told my personal life was interfering.

Toto's final words cut through the room like a blade.

"We need you focused. For yourself, for the team. Whatever is happening between you and Lando, it has to be sorted out—now."

At that moment, a knock echoed through the garage. I glanced at Toto, my eyes silently pleading—please, don't let this be what I think it is.

The door creaked open, and in walked Lando, followed closely by Zak. My chest tightened instantly. I wasn't ready for this. After everything last week, after the tension and the silence between us, the last thing I wanted was to face him here, now, in front of the entire team.

Toto gave me a steady look, but I shook my head slightly—not this time. Not here.

I kept my arms crossed, avoiding Lando's gaze, even as Zak spoke calmly to the group. The room was thick with unspoken words, but I held back, unwilling to open that door again so soon.

The air felt electric, every second stretching painfully. I wasn't sure who was more tense—Lando, or me. But I knew one thing: this conversation wasn't going to be easy.

Zak cleared his throat, breaking the thick, heavy silence that had settled in the room. He glanced between me and Lando before continuing carefully.

"Look, we all know things between you two have been... complicated lately," Zak said, choosing his words with caution. "The media's been having a field day, the team's distracted, and honestly, it's starting to affect the atmosphere around here."

I shifted uncomfortably, trying not to meet Lando's eyes. He looked tense too, his jaw clenched tight.

"Some of the managers have suggested that maybe it'd be best—for the team and for the public image—if you two just... played up a friendship. Fake it for the cameras. Show unity. Maybe even stage a few photo ops together," Zak said, his tone neutral but the weight of the suggestion heavy.

I immediately felt a surge of anger flare up inside me. The idea of pretending to be something I wasn't—just for the sake of appearances—felt like a betrayal. I shook my head firmly.