I hate you, I love you - A Lando Norris story

1

** Liliana's POV **

It's Thursday, the start of my work week and I head into the paddock towards the McLaren garage. Now don't get me wrong, I love my job more than anything, but McLaren is beginning to struggle this season, and I'm getting tired of it.

I head inside, go into my office to gather my notes for the meeting and walk out toward the board room, when I see a familiar face exiting the physio suite.

"Karev..." He sneers, a harsh tone as ever, as he walks past me avoiding eye contact.

"Norris..." I reply, in my most professional sounding voice possible.

Oh the famous Lando Norris. F1's sweetheart, or as I like to call him, the biggest pain in my backside.

I don't know what I ever did for him to act so hostile towards me, but it must of been serious for him to hold a grudge this long.

And if we're being completely honest here, I'm not sure if I really care. I have no feelings toward the guy, good or bad. He's just someone I work with, and I don't come to work to make friends.

We both head into the board room for our briefings before the race weekend and take our retrospective seats. We're in Monza, Ferrari's home race.

The meeting starts as drawn out and boring as ever. When I glance down at my watch I realise it's only been going on 20 minutes. Kill me now.

I continue to daydream for a while, which granted is something I definitely shouldn't be doing given my career. However I posses the 'Do as I say and not as I do' mentality. Plus, the briefings always begin the exact same, week in week out.

Zak starts it off by rambling on about how he knows we can do better, we're just having a string of bad luck. Then Andrea delivers a new concept on how we can improve our performance, which spoiler alert, rarely works.

Like I said; the exact same, week in week out.

I'm finally brought back to attention by Adrea mentioning my name. I focus my gaze to find everybody in the room is looking at me expectantly. Like I'm meant to be saying something. God I really need to stop daydreaming.

I clear my throat, "Yes sorry, so plan of action this week. Monza is a huge deal, we need to be on the ball... and that's all of us..."

I pause as I shoot a look of disappointment to Norris who's busy texting on his phone. "Would you like me to wait until you've finished what you're doing seeing as it's so important Norris?"

Hypocritical of me I know; but this is actually something he needs to be paying attention to.

He looks up, and we maintain eye contact for a second. Those cold eyes he only seems to reserve for me burning into my skull. I raise my eyebrows at him, like a school teacher telling off a naughty student, and he places his phone down on the table. Gesturing for me to continue, in his usual passive aggressive nature.

I turn my attention back to the room, "There is no room for error here guys, we need to be 100% focused. And that's all of us." I glance over at Norris, who to my surprise, is still paying attention.

"As Zak continues to tell us, yes we have had a bad start to the season. But we're improving. We did well at Zandvoort, but this week we need to be better. We need to prove that it wasn't just a fluke, and we are contenders for the championship. We don't want to get shown up again." I look around the room to gauge the staffs reactions. There are several nods of agreement, Zak even flashes me his signature smile.

That's what he likes about me the most. My brutal honesty. I say the things he is too scared to say, fearing being labelled the bad guy. It was one of the main reasons he hired me in the first place. My unwavering attitude.

"So strategy, we're predicted clear skies for the race, so we're going to aim for a 1 stop race for both of you." I glance at the two drivers to ensure they're both still listening to me, "Starting on softs for the first 12-18 laps, and then switching to hards for the remainder of the race."

"Now this bit is important. Piastri, Norris, race like your life depends on it. The championship depends on it. If you want to make it as championship contenders then you need to start acting like them. No stupid risks or mistakes, just... be on your A game. No exceptions." I know I sound harsh, but the soft approach doesn't work with these guys. They need someone to remind them who really is the boss.

I turn to my right, where the pit crew management are sat. "That goes for you guys too. No more unnecessary long pit stops, if anyone fucks up this weekend, they're gone. End of."