helmet love // 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

V

The crew spent the day preparing everything for the race weekend ahead of us. Despite the hangover- that quite frankly I'm getting bored of- we dragged our feet around and got it all out of the way. The drivers chipped off to walk around the track right after lunch, and to do some media work; we haven't seen them since.

Now, it's finally night time. Finally. Darkness couldn't have taken any longer to come around today. I sit on the balcony on the motor home, trimming and organising all of the clips Brad got from today. Hats off to him, he's got some amazing content! There's clips from the airport, the Paddock, the boys on the track and joking around off of it. There's shots of the food, the staff, and of course our clip of me and him just as the plane landed. Whilst it's a good memory for us, I'm still unsure how well it'll do on social media. Would people be interested in this?

I sigh, looking up at the sun setting over the horizon. How can the sky be so beautiful? It's such a simple yet complex thing; how can anyone see it as just 'the sky'? It's our shield from space, like a window with a view of the atmosphere. It changes colours during the day without anyone realising, like it's the Earth's emotions. It's a part of life we take a huge advantage of, regardless whether-

"Tits." I mutter under my breath, promptly averting my eyes to my computer. "Shit, shit, shit!"

I was so lost in becoming a stargazer that I didn't see Lewis on the Mercedes balcony right next to me. He just came up onto the balcony, taking off his cap and watching the sun set as well. He's got his dinner in his hands, his eyes peacefully scanning the horizon just like mine. He isn't looking this way, yet. I don't want an awkward encounter, not here. I pack down my laptop and other things as naturally as I can, trying to make my way downstairs without being seen.

"Marci?"

It was never going to happen, was it? I push away the mixed feeling of nerves and dread, turning to face Lewis with a smile. "Oh, hey."

"Didn't know you were working for McLaren now?" He asks, his eyes wandering over the black and orange building.

"Yeah, I started just after the season started." I reply, brushing some hair off my face. "Congrats on third place in Silverstone, by the way."

"Thank you." He chuckles, looking towards the ground momentarily. "Congrats on managing to stay in F1."

Hmm. Is he actually saying that to be nice, or is he still pissed off about the situation? Let's bear in mind I had no control over the general social media, even though I work with social media. I don't control the general news, I control the team platforms. What I did then was no different to what I do now.

"I can't tell whether you're being genuine or not." I admit, leaning my head to the side a little.

"Well, you created a rumour and almost made me lose my seat." Lewis reminds me, looking out to the track. "I'm surprised you're here, if I'm honest."

"I didn't create those rumours, don't even start." I scoff, narrowing my eyes at him. "That was the press taking a friendship out of context."

"A friendship that you took out of context." Lewis corrects me sarcastically.

"Oh, because it was my intention to get myself fired!" I smile, matching his tone.

"You set it up for the press, are you surprised it blew out of proportion?" Lewis asks, shaking his head at me. "I was the main face on the socials, which were in your control."

"That's such bullshit?" I scoff.

"It's not, you hardly posted anything about George." Lewis shrugs. "You couldn't have made a made a more controversial headline if you tried to."