WORKING FOR THE KNIFE ━ lando norris.

XX. Pain Was Hot Rubber

   

   

   

( ACT II. ── Uncertain Waters )
chapter twenty / Pain Was Hot Rubber

   

   

    

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Ask a person about good luck. They'll start with the opposite. As anyone can tell you, the road to gold-paved fortune begins with cracked asphalt and muddy water. Leave behind what you've known, you trusting faithful, and chase the one shining star left on the horizon ─ the last path ─ the very human thirst for victory. The smell of mauled rubber and sweat and pent-up lust and petrol.

Annika had learned a lot of surprising things in her life about what people believe and the difference in philosophies between people who have fallen into good luck and those who haven't. Her way of thinking always started and ended with the words the world had given her, the only armor she ever really had: No comment. Shit happens.

Keep your head down. Don't let them know you care.

From being rammed off the track in karts to being slandered on the internet, Annika had no choice but to duck her head and let it pass, confident that she would bide her time and prove them wrong a thousand times over, each and every one of them, each and every offense. From the dormitory bullies who curdled her joy, to the nameless, faceless collective that tried to do the same thing with anonymous media in her adulthood. Hell, she could have even blamed the people who helped her get here, and none of it would have made any difference ─ she was here now, standing beside her racing car today, and there was no differential that could change the outcome of her future except putting her faith wholly in herself.

Annika looked out for Annika. That's how it always had been, and how it always would have to be.

The clouds burned dark in the white sky and the cool breeze fluttered against her lashes inside her open visor. One last debrief with Lyndon, he had slithered off out of his pit box with his IPad in hand, using his final chance to give her a visual of the new upgrades ─ any change was crucial today, however minor it may have been. She was on pole. There was no risking that.

There were eyes on the back of her helmet, the Red Bull crew, Aston Martin, even the other half of her own team, all studying her and wondering if she would live up to the pedestal she had stepped upon or not.

Lyndon gripped the back of her neck encouragingly. "You feel good?" he asked, almost needing to shout for her to hear him.

"I feel good," Annika confirmed, and she very much did. Canada was looking up. Her second career pole ─ she could not allow it to end up the way the last one did. Gravel and inertia and kicking herself like a dog for screwing it all up.

"Blow 'em all away, honey," Lyndon said with a supportive squeeze on her shoulder. Annika watched him depart and felt a tight ball of anxiety packing itself into her chest.