helmet love // 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

VI

Yes. I was hangry. I admit it, I'm sorry!

The buffet food was delicious, and I devoured my plate like a dog when you mix their biscuits with gravy. My food was basically gone the second I put the plate down on the table. Speaking of seconds, I ended up getting another plate! Normally I never do that in public, but I couldn't help myself!

"That was incredible, thank you." I nod to the team behind the kitchen, putting my plate, cutlery and empty glass on the counter.

"Thank you."

I look to my side as I hear a recognisable, British voice beside me. Lando puts his plate down on the glass over the metal trays of food, the ceramic material sending a soft scratching noise around the room and into the background noise. After such a long day, I'm surprised he's still awake. The naturally tanned skin under his eyes is slightly darker than normal, but it doesn't look like he's totally shattered. He looks a bit dazed, like a high-and-happy mood, but without the drugs. Obviously.

"You're everywhere I go today." I state with a smile, turning to face him and crossing my arms.

"Well, where else would we be?" Lando frowns, smiling back at me.

"I don't know, I've never seen you out and around the Paddock until now." I add, narrowing an eye at him. "Especially this much."

"Maybe I'm following you." He matches my humour, raising an eyebrow.

"Shouldn't it be the other way round?" This is such a weird conversation! "You're the famous one, not me."

"What do you mean, your name has been in the paper many times?"

Oh he went there! My jaw drops, completely aware he's joking, but not at all prepared for the comment. Lando's eyes glimmer with trouble, his lips that are tightly sealed together struggling to hold back the bursts of giggling. Also, the timing of the comment, only an hour or two after mine and Lewis' argument! Either that was inconveniently convenient timing, or he knows what happened and he's got the balls to make a joke out of it!

"Hmm, good point." I remark, pulling my eyes away from him to look at my phone. "My name was probably in the paper more times than you've been on the podium."

Low blow? Yes. Fully intentional? Yes. Did I get the reaction I was hoping for? Absolutely! Lando's eyes widen at me, clearly a little bit in shock that I've just said that to my own team. It's a comment you'd make towards someone you dislike, but it's unlikely that I can say that to Lewis. Can you imagine the reaction if I did?

"Ouch?" He frowns as we slowly start to walk away from the counter.

"What? You started it?" 'And I ended it', I almost wanted to add. "Who told you about what happened?"

"No one told me, I just saw it." He opens the door for me, following me through and into the night. "I thought you and Lewis were just talking, then you just left out of nowhere."

"Oh."

"What happened?"

Do I have to explain myself? I already felt like the words had me in a chokehold, suffocating me until my very last breath. I keep my voice to myself as we aimlessly walk; the mumbling and echoey laughter from the teams is the only noise around us. I look up at the Mercedes motorhome as we walk past it; if it wasn't for one single event to blow up and be misunderstood, I'd still be in there. Thing is, if I don't tell Lando, his curiosity would get the better of him. The last way I want him knowing about what happened is by reading Google's annotation of my past.

"Oh- how's the tattoo going?" I wasn't planning on a distraction, trust me.

"It's a little bit scratchy, it's going to be a pain when I put my gloves on." Lando holds his hand up to his chest, examining the F1 car. "How's yours?"