helmet love // 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐬

XIV

"This. Is. Ridiculous!"

The plan was horrendous. Like, next level horrific. The kind of stuff you'd watch in some 80s movie that's blatantly unrealistic. Not along the same lines as a superhero getting shot at by several machine guns but waltz's on past them without a scratch, but something like that! I'm wearing a smart outfit that looks like it's meant for the office, not the plane, with sunglasses and red lipstick. My hair is done up in a bun with so much hairspray that if anyone lit a cigarette near me, I'd be engulfed in flames within seconds!

The plan is... not simple. Sorry, did I make that clear enough? My role is to walk out to the plane on my own after Lando goes out. He'll be accompanied by a few people, who will be involved in the photos that the press and paparazzi take. Then, once they've all calmed down and started exiting the runway, I have to make my way out as 'calmly as possible' so I don't disturb them. Yep. That's it.

"Do you have any other ideas?" Lando asks, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

"No, no I don't."

"Exactly."

I put a hand on my head, watching out the windows as the cameras start to gather around the jet waiting for us. I feel like I'm sat on the edge of a cliff that's being beaten by manic waves every few seconds, anticipating the fall at any moment. What if I fall over, or my glasses fall off? Then people will know who I am! Ugh, I should've listen to Brad. I'm risking my career yet again, and this time it isn't an accident!

"Marci, stop panicking so much." Lando tells me, giving a smile.

"You're not the one risking your job Lando, it's easy for you to say!" I hiss, doing the exact opposite of what he told me to do. "I'm not even losing it in style, I look like a prick!"

"You-" Lando cuts himself off with a little giggle. "You don't look like-"

"Well you laughed so you must think I do!" I interrupt him, waving a hand at him.

Lando breaks into a high-pitched giggling fit, walking away from me like I can't see him. People around us catch his contagious behaviour, smiling cluelessly at the driver who can't compose himself. Finally, the terminal doors open, allowing the deafening roar of the plane's engine to creep inside. My heart starts to race quicker than ever, there's no turning back now. Lando adjusts his bag on his shoulder again, nodding goodbye to me before making his way out.

Then, it's just me. Just one person inside an empty building. It feels so wrong. I shouldn't be here, but I am. Brad is probably on the plane dreading my outcome, and I am too. Just, not on a plane. I peak out the glass, noticing all the cameras dashing around Lando, chasing him until he gets into the plane. Even then, a single cameraman clambers up the stairs behind him, and is swiftly dragged back down by the impatient security. Ok, they're starting to leave. The cameras disperse like fish in water, gliding around the track.

As I go to leave the building, my phone rings. Maybe that's Lando telling me to hold fire? I glance at my phone, and my soul sinks to the floor. Ally. I can't miss this, she'd go nuts. But she's going to hear the plane? Maybe she won't, or maybe she isn't even mad at me.

"Hello?" I answer the phone, holding it to my ear whilst covering the other.

"Where the hell are you?" Ally scorns down the phone. "We landed an hour ago!"

Shit! Shit, shit, shit! What do I say?

"Is that a plane I can hear in the background?" Ally continues to probe on. "Are you still in Spielberg?!"

"Yes! Yes, sorry, I thought we were getting the afternoon plane!" I excuse quickly, pacing up and down. "I need to go, the plane is waiting for-"

"The plane can wait Marci!" No, it can't, but ok. "What am I supposed to say when the team asks me for media content when, not only do I not have any, but I don't even have the creator either!"

"That was totally out of my control Ally, you put me on a different job and- in my opinion- I did a fucking amazing job of it." I tell her, my anxiety raising through the roof. "Sorry for swearing at you, totally inappropriate, but my plane is about to take off and I need to go."

"Fine, whatever." Ally sighs, clearly wanting to call me a twat. "Marci, there's no other planes flying back home today, how are you-"

I end the call on her, stuffing my phone into my pocket and racing towards the plane. Ally is slowly clocking onto me. The more I talk to her, the more suspicious she'll get. Hanging up the phone was highly unprofessional, but it gives me more time to lie and lie and lie to the point where I can't keep up with my own story.

I hop onto the plane without anyone on the runway giving a damn. The stairs are removed from behind me just as I take my foot off of them, and the hostess puts her all into shutting the door. I take a deep breath, removing my glasses and looking around the plane. Not to my surprise, it's like a private jet, with fancy white leather and hardly enough seats for a small family.

"What took you so long?" Lando stands up from the end of the plane, walking over to me.

"Ally did." I tell him, and he widens his eyes a little. "She knows I missed the plane, and there aren't any scheduled back to the UK."

"It's not like we can do anything about it now." He says as the plane starts to roll into position for takeoff.

I look out the window as the plane progresses down the runway, with the mountains of Spielberg in sight. Soon, that'll be replaced with a completely different sight. A beautiful district with the ocean at it's finger tips. The most famous out of the four districts in Monaco, and attracts many famous people world wide. To think, that's where I'm going. Me. The girl that was desperate to hide her face from social media slander, and still has an underlying fear of it, is going to a place full of cameras.

"I'm so excited." I grin, moving to sit in my seat with Lando. "I know I might not look it, but I'm really looking forward to this week."

"You'll love it." Lando confirms my excitement. "It's your week off, enjoy it."

"I will, don't worry." I look over to him, glancing up and down. "I can't imagine a better person to go to Monte Carlo and unpack boxes with."

In some sense, that was meant to be a joke. I can imagine there's much better things to do in Monte Carlo than unpacking boxes. But, I don't really mind what we do? I'm with Lando, and we get more time together away from work. I won't have to deal with Ally breathing down my neck, he doesn't have to constantly worry about practice, qualifying and racing. It can be a week of being almost normal?