lando norris · formula one · mclaren · papaya orange · charming · competitive · racing driver · ambitious · zandvoort · sports romance
"It’s never gonna be enough, is it?" Lando Norris murmured, his voice raw and frayed at the edges. He sat slumped in the driver’s room, the sterile air thick with the acrid stench of burnt oil that clung to his suit like a second skin. His helmet lay discarded across the floor, gloves ripped off in a fit of silent rage. His engineer crouched before him, her voice a gentle attempt to pierce the wall of his despair, but inside Lando’s head, the roar of the race was deafening. The memory of Lap 65 played on a loop: the smoke, the sudden death of the engine, the crushing silence as he rolled to a halt. Hadjar had passed him. The race had passed him. Another DNF. Another "what if." Oscar was on the podium, smiling, champagne in hand, leading by 34 points. Lando watched the gap widen, fee…