Faking it || Lando Norris LN

31

tw: mention of sexual harassment

also, this is a long-ass chapter. enjoy !

Olivia Reyes

Thursday. Silverstone Grand Prix Week.

I was curled up and reading on Lando's living room couch when my face shot up. He was coming downstairs when my eyes landed on him, both of us wearing oversized hoodies and matching pants beneath. His set was black with bright neon green paint details with his name and number, one of his newest merch drops. Mine was a light pink one with Danny Ric's name and number painted with white on the sleeves —a gift he'd given me before the collection dropped— because nothing screams more "Daniel Ricciardo" than gifting your friends pieces of your own merch.

I'd never had a clothing line with my name on it, and even though I'd never worn anyone other than Daniel's, I could bet that his line was the most comfortable one. I had a note in my phone's notes app reminding me to hit him up for information if I ever got around to launching my own. It seemed like something very out of reach, though. It had been a topic for discussion with Gianna during last year, but it was quickly shrugged off this season after the mess with my sponsors.

Lando met my gaze at the same time as I did. We acknowledged each other with a nod and a tight-lipped smile as he went past me and into the kitchen. My face morphed into a wince right after he was out of sight. I tried holding back the awkward chill that went through my body, which ached to roll my shoulders and shake the cringe feeling off.

We'd been like this the entire week already. Each time we saw each other went by with the same ritual.

Nod. Tight-lipped smile. Wince once the other person is out of sight. Repeat.

It made me want to rip my skin apart with awkwardness. I could only wonder how long our dynamic would last like this —if it would last like this. I couldn't forget the nature of our interactions. Explosive. Lando and I were like gasoline and a matchstick. Everything could go up in flames from one second to the other, and even though I wasn't the most comfortable with our current dynamic, the thought of returning to our previous one was a thousand times worse.

A creaking sound interrupted my thoughts and made my face turn toward the main entrance. My eyes landed on Max Fewtrell entering the house with sunglasses perched over his nose as he dropped his bags loudly against the floor.

"I HAVE RETURNED!" he announced with both of his arms lifted triumphantly in the air, making me giggle. "Everyone. Drop whatever you're doing. We're playing Call of Duty," Fewtrell commanded as he kicked the door closed behind him and made his way to the living room.

"Good afternoon to you too, asshole," Lando laughed behind us while I scooted over for Fewtrell to sit down on the living room couch.

"No time for formalities. I have to meet my needs and this is an urgent one," he replied as he took a video game controller and turned the TV on, taking a seat to my left.

"How was your trip?" I asked, not being able to hide the disbelieving smile from my face. Their friendship was something else entirely.

"Oh magnificent!" he raised his eyebrows, telling me it hadn't actually been magnificent. "Except for the fact that my parents hate, loathe, despise video games. I can't so much as open fruit ninja on my phone without them stabbing me with a fork."

"Is fruit ninja still a thin—" I began, but was interrupted by my hanging mouth as Max threw a video game controller toward the kitchen without even looking.