sign of the times // lando norris

1) beginning

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'bleeding me dry like a goddamn vampire.' - olivia rodrigo

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ARABELLA'S POV;

"i'm not going have you treat me like shit and that i'm some second choice!" i yell at my team principal CHRISTIAN HORNER and throw my racing gloves onto the ground.

"language!" he yells back at me, pointing his finger at me.

"oh yeah, because that's the problem here!"

"belle, i could easily make you my third choice driver. so i'd advise you to keep your mouth shut." he practically spits the word 'shut' at my face.

with that, he walks off leaving me in the team garage alone. we'd just finished qualifying for the race tomorrow and christian was already shouting at me.

i feel a tap on my shoulder and turn around to see my teammate MAX VERSTAPPEN. "you alright belle?" he asks with his hand on my upper back, guiding me through the garage.

max was my best friend on the grid and off the grid. christian favorited him for sure, but it wasn't max's fault. i couldn't get angry at him for something that he doesn't even mean for.

he's just talented which makes christian adore him.

"no." i reply like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "christian is being a dick as usual."

"belle, you shouldn't speak about him like that. he's good to us."

"max, just because he's good to you, doesn't mean he's good to me." i say, taking out the hair binder out from my hair and placing it on my wrist.

"he treats us the same." max says, cracking his knuckles.

"max," i say and stop walking, so does he, "how many races have redbull won this season?"

"all of them."

"how many have i won?" i ask.

"three."

"how many have you won?"

"all of them except for those three." he answers.

"for the three races i've won this season where did you place?" i say, getting to the point of why i'm asking all of these questions.

"i spun off the track all those three races." he answers and finally understands what i'm trying to say.

"and no one celebrated those three wins of mine." i say, "so don't say that we get treated the same, because every race that you won, everyone on the team celebrated."  i walk away, leaving max standing their alone.

i brush my fingers through my hair in frustration and sit down on the floor, leaning my back against the wall.

as i'm lost in thoughts, CHARLES LECLERC sits beside me and looks over at me, "p4 is good, belle." he says.

charles and i have been friends since i joined formula one. i could always talk to him and i felt safe around him.

when things got tough, i knew i could talk to him about it and that he'd listen.