F1 oneshots

The Interviewer pt. 3 ≪◦ ❈ ◦≫ Lando Norris

The crowd roars. Every single one of the media crew cheers as the papaya-coloured car flies past the checkered flag, ahead of 18 other drivers- including his teammate in P3.

"And Charles Leclerc wins the Canadian Grand Prix, just five hundredths of a second ahead of the papaya rocketship driven by none other than Lando Norris! It was his race to dominate, and he did so! Another double McLaren podium for the history books!"

Alex's voice sounds excited over the speakers, and the crowd still cheers as everyone makes their way down to the podium to celebrate the top three. Nick and I rush to make it onto the paddock, getting lucky and joining the McLaren crew to watch the drivers park their cars.

Charles gets out of his car first, raising his arms in a victorious pose, cheering with the grandstands. Lando and Oscar follow, congratulating each other on another podium. You can see just how proud Lando is of his achievement. He and Oscar put up quite a battle during the race, but considering that they were fair with each other and did it without penalising one another, the podium is peaceful.

The top three take off their helmets and make their way to the cooldown room after their interviews. Nick and I wait impatiently until we hear the announcement.

"This is it!" Zak motions towards the podium with a grin on his face as he nudges me. I laugh, smiling at the podium. It was one of those raw races, the ones that make you fall in love with Formula 1 all over again.

"And in third place, please welcome, Oscar Piastri!" the announcer says over the microphone, and the crowd bursts into a cheer. We applaud Oscar as he waves to the crowd and especially his team, walking to his spot on the podium.

My heart pounds as I realise who the next person to appear will be, and I can't help but fidget nervously. Nick notices this and puts an arm around me: "Nervous much?"

I roll my eyes with a grin and pinch his side, which causes him to pull back with a yelp, laughing: "All right, my fault."

Lando walks out onto the stage when the announcer calls his name, and he waves, earning the loudest cheer of the race. The whole team cheers for him, whistles coming from all around. He smiles at his team and does not fail to spot me.

His smile grows even more, and before I know it, he sends a wink my way. I immediately blush, still applauding him. The world goes quiet as I watch him while Charles steps on the podium, my mind on him even while celebrating the winner.

As the crowd quiets down, I still watch Lando and catch his gaze now and then. Nick stands next to me, shaking his head.

"Oh, bloody hell, Y/n."

He chuckles, putting an arm around my shoulder as we listen to the Monégasque national anthem. Nick knows me too well. And if it weren't for the fact that he dated one of my old male roommates, I never would've met him.

Never would've fallen in love with the sport, applied for the job as a mental health interviewer, and never met Lando. I owe Nick all of it.

The champagne spike takes me by surprise, and the cheering returns. Lando and Oscar are drenched in champagne, mainly Charles' fault. They stand together to have their picture taken, then the crowd slowly dissipates.

Now comes the fun part.

I get to interview the top three, beginning with the winner. This is my favourite part. They always arrive with the biggest smiles on their faces, feeling exhausted but incredibly proud, sweaty and full of champagne all over.

A bunch of happy boys.

Nick follows me to the interview pen, and we prepare to receive Charles in a few minutes.