i forget you aren't mine - lando norris - Chapter 15: Chapter 15

"it's wild how it dissipates / how you're further from me every day..."
lando's back at the race track now.
back to the chaos. back to the early mornings and late nights. back to the noise of the engines, the flashing cameras, the constant buzz of his world.
and yet, every time he closes his eyes, he sees her.
every moment of stillness is filled with the memory of her smile, her laugh, the way she'd hold his hand when the world felt too loud.
he tries to bury it. tries to focus on the race. but it's impossible.
impossible to ignore the emptiness that's settled into his chest.
he misses her. more than he's willing to admit. more than he can handle right now.
the first few days without her are the hardest.
it's a different kind of loneliness that he's never felt before.
because even when he's surrounded by people, even when he's in the middle of all the chaos, there's still that feeling of something missing.
it's her.
she's the piece he can't seem to find again.
he's at the track, standing by his car, watching the team as they make final adjustments before qualifying.
but his mind isn't on the race.
his mind is on her.
on the way she looked at him the last time they were together.
on the way she said goodbye.
he checks his phone again.
no new messages.
it's been two days since he left, and he's been checking his phone like it's a lifeline.
waiting for a text. waiting for her to reach out.
because he needs her. he needs that connection. that reminder that they're still here, still fighting, still making this work.
but the silence feels heavy.
it feels like an echo of the goodbye they shared.
and he doesn't know how to fill it.
it's late when the message finally comes through.
he's lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, when his phone buzzes beside him.
it's from her.
how's everything?
lando stares at the message for a moment, the words simple but filled with so much weight.
how's everything?
it feels like she's asking for more than just an update on his schedule. it feels like she's asking if he's okay.
and the truth is, he's not.
he wants to tell her that. wants to tell her how much he misses her. how much he feels the distance, even though they're just a few time zones apart.
but he doesn't.
because he doesn't want to worry her. doesn't want to put that on her.
so instead, he types:
everything's good. just busy, you know how it is.
he sends it before he can overthink it.
but even as he hits send, he knows it's not the truth. it's not everything being good.
it's just... everything being distant.
the next few days pass in a blur of meetings, press, and practice.
he's caught up in the whirlwind of it all, but the truth is, he can't stop thinking about her.
every moment when he's not focused on the race, his mind drifts back to the way she looked at him when he left. the way her eyes had seemed to say everything without saying a word.
he wants to reach out. wants to call her, to hear her voice.
but he doesn't.
he can't bring himself to break the silence, because he knows that doing so will only make him realize just how much he misses her.
and he's not sure if he can handle that right now.
it's another night.
lando's back in his hotel room, sitting in the quiet. his phone rests on the desk beside him, and he knows he should be getting some rest. he knows he has a race in the morning.
but he can't sleep.
he keeps thinking about her.
keeps wondering what she's doing, if she's thinking about him too, if she's feeling the same weight of the distance that he is.
he picks up his phone, scrolling through the messages from her.
they're small, sweet texts, but there's a distance in them now — a kind of formal politeness that wasn't there before.
and it makes his heart ache.
he wants to tell her everything.
wants to tell her that he misses her. that he doesn't know how to handle this, how to handle the emptiness that seems to grow with every passing day.
but he doesn't.
he just stares at the screen, his finger hovering over the keyboard.
finally, he types:
i miss you.
it's simple. raw. honest. and for the first time in days, it feels like he's letting out a breath he didn't even realize he was holding.
he presses send.
her reply comes quickly.
i miss you too. more than i thought i would.
he stares at the message, the words hanging in the air between them, and for a moment, it feels like everything is going to be okay.
but then, the weight of the silence settles in again.
the uncertainty.
the questions.
the distance.
it's still there, still pulling them apart.
and lando doesn't know how to fix it. doesn't know how to make it better.
the next morning, the race starts.
but for the first time, lando doesn't feel the rush of adrenaline the way he used to.
his mind keeps drifting back to her. to the texts, to the distance, to the feeling of being apart.
he's still trying to focus on the track, still trying to do his job, but all he can think about is her.
when the race ends, he finishes well, but it doesn't feel like a win.
it feels hollow.
the next few days blur together.
the races. the travel. the meetings. the same routine that's been his life for so long.
but now, it feels different. it feels like something's missing.
and maybe it always will.