Faking it || Lando Norris LN

63

He was in love with her.

It made him feel so small, to finally realize it. It twisted his insides into a knot of shame and self-pity he felt disgusted to see crawling over his legs.

He had known he liked spending time with Olivia. He had known he cared for her. He had felt a burning feeling in the back of his neck when he realized he couldn't wait for a camera to show up so he could put his lips on hers. He had felt a wave of relief every time he'd been able to do it without a camera.

He had felt the urge to hold her like he'd never before, not with anyone else. He had wanted to be better. He had wanted to learn how to apologize, how to make up for mistakes. How to heal the parts of him that he'd never cared enough to even look at in the first place.

But how could he have known it was love?

Lando had never known love. Not unless it felt like crying outside his childhood home door, begging his father to let him in. Not unless it felt like being complicit in hiding bruises under his chest and smiling for cameras he wished were out of his face. Not unless it felt like running water between his hands, like having everything go wrong.

He could've never known, not unless it hurt.

He knew it now.

It hurt now.

Lando knew it was love as the floor swallowed him whole in the middle of his living room in Los Angeles. He knew it was love as he felt his skin had disappeared, leaving muscles in the open air wincing with every fan breeze hanging above him.

He knew it was love as he left for Belgium a day early, completely incommunicated. He knew it was love as he cursed himself for admitting to Davies how he felt for Olivia because now he wouldn't give him his phone for "a couple of days," saying it was "for the better."

It hurt now.

So Lando knew it now.

And he was going to tell Olivia.

He rushed down the hotel hallway on Monday. The sun had yet to set as the afternoon began dying. His feet and body had a mind of their own as they sprinted to the door with his room's number and then knocked on the one to its left.

Lando felt like his entire body was underwater. His ears hadn't stopped ringing, his churning stomach barely contained anything, and the bags under his eyes told the true version of a story the entire world would know awfully soon.

He could feel how the floor crumbling under him since yesterday straightened as Olivia's door opened and he ran inside, breathless and struggling for air in the middle of the room. He turned back, full of confusion.

He felt the floor crumble again once his eyes met Gianna's.

"Care to explain yourself?" Gianna asked as she closed the door.

"—Where's Olivia?" Lando rushed the words out.

"That's information I no longer have to share with you," she crossed her arms. "Thankfully."

"Cut the bullshit," Lando squinted his eyes. "You can believe whatever you want but I have to talk to Olivia and I have to do it now."

"Cut the bullshit? I had my ass on the line for this stunt, and you fucked over everyone involved!" Gianna furrowed her brows with disbelief. "Some people more than others," she added with spite. "You're not getting anywhere near her, so I suggest you lock yourself in your room and count the streaks of paint on the wall while we manage to get your room rearranged."

"What the fuck?! Now I can't even be next room?!" Lando raised his voice, throwing his hands in the air with astonishment.

"Not when you're capable of pulling shit like this! What did you think you were gonna do?! Walk in here and lie to her some more?"