F1 oneshots

Private Chef pt. 2 ≪◦ ❈ ◦≫ Lando Norris*

*****

My bag was full. And I mean three cameras and four batteries kind of full. Plus two extra lenses. Two of the three cameras were professional, new, and made for high-quality photos and closeup portraits that capture every detail in a person- or animal.

The third was a film camera, much like McLaren has liked to use for their garage photos before. The extra batteries and film took up a large amount of space in my bag, but I still managed to pack in neatly and throw in some homemade crackers and a bottle of water.

Thankfully, the bag was stylish, light beige, and useful. My clothes were simple, a white top with trumpet sleeves and some long, wide light jeans to go with the beige shoes.

I smiled in the mirror as I put my cap on, happy with the way I styled myself. I knew it wasn't really a date, but my heart was accelerating its beating any time I even thought about Lando.

I left my hotel and made my way through the city of Suzuka, towards the Suzuka circuit. I knew I had to get a taxi to get there, but my stomach was aching for some breakfast, so I made a stop at a nearby cafe.

While standing in line to get a coffee and some food, I noticed someone standing in front of me whom I recognized all too well.

"Carlos?" I said, seeing the man in front of me turn around and suddenly smile when he saw me.

"Y/n! How good to see you! What are you doing here?" he gave me a tight hug, which I happily returned.

I smiled up at the Spaniard: "Getting breakfast before heading over to the paddock."

Carlos frowned, excited because he hoped I was going to say what he was thinking: "The paddock?"

I blushed, realising Lando didn't tell him. Probably for the best, Charles and Pierre would've made so much fun of him.

"Yes," I said as the line moved a bit, "Lando invited me to the paddock to show me around."

I patted my shoulder bag and Carlos looked incredibly proud, grinning: "I told Lando to go for it. Good to know he still listens to me even though we're not in the same team anymore."

I laughed, and we moved a bit more.

"What are you getting?" I asked Carlos, wanting to know what was good here.

He hummed, looking up at the signs that were in English: "How about coffee and a pastry box? There's six different items in it."

I read what he had suggested and nodded: "Great. So, if you'll excuse me so that I can get to the counter and pay?"

He immediately stepped in front of me: "Absolutely not, chica, you're not paying for anything."

"But-"

"No."

I crossed my arms: "Fine, but I'm going to pay you back with something at least."

Carlos chuckled as if I had said something really stupid and stepped towards the man behind the counter, ordering the food. I grabbed the two coffees as we made our way out the door and sat outside at one of the small tables.

"So," Carlos said as he sat down, grabbing the box and opening it, revealing six beautiful pieces of pastry, "What are the plans for today?"

He gave me one of the pastries that looked amazing, with flower petals on it, grabbing one that looked like a glazed doughnut.

I took a sip of my delicious latte before answering: "As far as I know I have to be there at ten and he'll pick me up at the entrance, show me around and let me take some photos with my cameras. He said McLaren is looking for a photographer for next season, so."