Photograph- Ed Sheeran + Perfect- Ed Sheeran
˙⋆✮ lando ✮⋆˙
Time was flying.
I had won my second podium in a row in Hungary and everything with Tamera was going to plan. For the last week, I've compiled a series of eight presents (plus an additional four for Leonardo) to give to Mera. However, I'm not sure whether to tell you just yet, because I have a plan to ask her out (on a date, I know!) after Qualifying. Charles has agreed to help me to get her to wait for me near my garage and I can talk to her then.
I would be lying if I said I wasn't nervous. My heart's been racing for hours and hours, and nothing has happened yet. The only benefit in not seeing her for the past couple of days was her not seeing me for the past couple of days when I feel like I could burst into confession in front of her. Especially when I walked in to the paddock. Cameras always make me feel vulnerable. It sucks. Soon I was swarmed by my own staff, relishing smiles at me for my past two podiums. It felt good, very good, in contrast to the annoyance of journalists. Getting a podium at my home race, and then another, felt pretty good. I am striving for that race win, but I can't help but feel distracted. I'm asking my best friend out, after so many days, weeks and months. The thoughts, the scenarios, the problems that could happen, everything was flooding through my brain.
I'm restless in my seat before Qualifying begins, in fifteen minutes. Screens flood my space around the halo, my helmet and closed visor the only thing holding me back from freaking out.
Post-race anxiety was something I struggled with quite frequently, my family and friends knew that. But pre-qualifying anxiety was different.
My breathing was choppy, I was struggling to breathe with my helmet, but I couldn't take it off. I was fidgeting with my thumbs, twiddling, twisting and turning them. My legs were twitching, heart racing. I couldn't comprehend what was happening, my eyes were blurring and my heartbeat pounding out of my body.
"Lando?" Someone yelled out the front of my halo. "Are you alright? Should we call someone?"
Sounds blurred into one blast into my ears, a cacophony. There was no escaping this.
"Call anyone, please." I said loud enough for someone to hear.
Suddenly a blanket was covered over the halo, the sounds drew to a stop in my side of the garage. Someone told them to stop, clearly, but the cameras would have a field day with me once again.
I hated 'it's all too much for little Lando Norris', because my racing life wasn't too much for me. I craved winning, I craved getting podiums, securing trophies, and more, always more. All it was, and still is, is myself being my biggest critic.
"Lando, I have Leonardo Ricciardo on the phone."
Leo? Where was Tamera?
"Lando?" I heard Leo ask. I sucked in a breath. His voice hurt my soul, he sounded scared. I was scared too.
"Hey, kid. Where's Mer?" I stopped fidgeting to hold the phone through my visor. The blanket had been taken off and all people could see was me talking to someone.
"She's helping Uncle Charlie with something."
Right, he was probably asking her for breakfast tomorrow.
"Alright. Talk to me." I proposed.
"About what?" He replied.
"About what you've done today."
YOU ARE READING
𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜 𝗥𝗜𝗖𝗖𝗜𝗔𝗥𝗗𝗢- lando norris
FanfictionTamera Ricciardo has all she's ever wanted. She's a lawyer, she loves her son, Leo, she's an influencer and more. There's just two things she doesn't have. One, her brother, who she hasn't seen for five years. And two, somebody to love. And she retu...
