✈️ ꜰʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀɪꜱᴋ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 5: ʙʀᴇᴀᴄʜᴇꜱ✈️
ꜰ1 x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ | ʟᴀɴᴅᴏ ɴᴏʀʀɪꜱ ᴀᴜ | ꜱʟᴏᴡ ʙᴜʀɴ + ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ɪᴍʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ
⚠️ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ:
ᴍᴇᴅɪᴀ ᴇxᴘᴏꜱᴜʀᴇ
ᴘᴜʙʟɪᴄ ꜱᴄʀᴜᴛɪɴʏ
ᴀɢᴇ ɢᴀᴘ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ
ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ ɪᴍʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ
ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅɪꜱᴛʀᴇꜱꜱ
ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴜɴᴄᴇʀᴛᴀɪɴᴛʏ
ᴏɴʟɪɴᴇ ꜱᴘᴇᴄᴜʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴ
It was a Wednesday afternoon when everything tilted.
(Y/n) was halfway through a class in aviation mechanics, elbows deep in diagrams of fuel systems and engine valves, when her phone buzzed three times in rapid succession. Normally, she ignored it during lectures, but this was different. The screen lit up again—
Camille [Roomie 💅]: Girl check Twitter RIGHT NOW.
Camille [Roomie 💅]: Your sugar daddy is trending.
Camille [Roomie 💅]: LIKE. VIRAL.
Her heart dropped into her stomach.
The instructor’s voice faded into a blur. She opened her browser with shaking fingers and typed Lando Norris’s name into the search bar.
The top result? A grainy photo of a girl who looked a lot like her stepping out of a black McLaren SUV last weekend, Lando a few feet behind her in a hoodie and cap. The image had been posted by an account that specialized in driver gossip.
"Spotted: Lando Norris and a very young mystery girl arriving at his building. 👀"
"Not a close friend, nor a family member, not anyone we know. Who is she? She looks... like a teen?!!" "If this is real, I—he’s done. No way Zak Brown lets this slide."
(Y/n) shut her phone and stared blankly ahead.
Her instructor’s voice returned as if from underwater. “Miss (L/n), if the diagram's too easy, feel free to walk us through the reverse flow routing.”
She blinked, stood, and mumbled an apology before walking briskly out of the classroom.
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By the time she reached her dorm, her hands were still trembling. Camille was already waiting by the door, laptop open.
“Okay,” Camille started, not even offering a greeting, “do you know how many reposts that photo has gotten? Instagram. Reddit. Gossip blogs. F1 Twitter’s going feral.”
“Do they know it’s me?”
“Not yet. But someone will, if they haven’t already. Your backpack was in that shot. Your shoes. Girl, I recognize that parka you thrifted.”
(Y/n) dropped onto her bed, burying her face in her hands. “I knew this was going to blow up eventually. I just didn’t think it would be now.”
Camille shut the laptop. “Did he tell you this might happen?”
“He always said he was careful.”
“Babe, there’s only so careful a public figure can be. It was bound to leak. You know how this works.”
(Y/n) looked up. “Do you think he’ll cut me off?”
Camille didn’t answer.
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He called that night.
She didn’t even say hello. “So, I’m trending, huh?”
Lando exhaled into the phone. “I’m so sorry. I should’ve been more cautious.”
“You were.” Her voice was flat. “But someone still caught us.”
“I’ve already talked to the team. They’re aware. It hasn’t fully exploded yet, we’ve got a small window to manage this.”
Her breath hitched. “Manage it? What does that mean?”
“Lay low for a bit. Stop seeing each other in public.”
She closed her eyes. “So, hide me again?”
“No, I just—I’m trying to protect you. This could turn into something ugly.”
“I’m not scared of ugly.”
“I am.”
Silence stretched.
Finally, Lando said, “Let me come over.”
(Y/n) nodded even though he couldn’t see her. “Back door.”
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He arrived in a hoodie, jeans, and sneakers like a guy coming over for a late-night hang, not a globally-recognized athlete navigating a PR landmine. She let him in through the rear dorm entrance, and they slipped upstairs without a word.
In her room, the air felt tight.
She folded her arms. “So, what now?”
He sat on the edge of her bed. “Now we breathe. And think. And decide.”
“Decide what?”
“Whether this is worth fighting for.”
Her chest stung. “Do you think it is?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he looked around her room for the first time in full light. The model airplane on her desk. The folded flight suit by the chair. The stack of aviation books she’d bought with his money.
“You’re building something incredible,” he said quietly. “And I don’t want to be the reason it crumbles.”
“You’re not. But if you walk away now, it might feel like you were.”
He looked at her then, truly looked at her, and something cracked.
“I’ve never cared about someone like this.”
(Y/n)’s throat tightened. “Then act like it.”
He stood, stepped close, brushed a thumb against her cheek. “We’ll figure this out. I swear.”
And for the first time in two days, she let herself believe it.
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The next few days were tense. No more café dates. No visits to his flat. But he texted constantly like photos from track, sleepy voice notes after team meetings, a blurry selfie captioned “Missing u.”
(Y/n) clung to those like they were oxygen.
Still, rumors simmered online. F1 podcasts speculated. Instagram fan pages tried to match her outfit to random girls spotted near McLaren paddocks.
And then, out of nowhere, Zak Brown called for Lando.
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Lando walked into the McLaren team principal’s office with hands in his pockets and shoulders set.
Zak looked up from his desk, serious.
“Sit.”
Lando sat.
Zak tapped the screen. “You know what this is about.”
Lando nodded.
Zak sighed. “Is it true?”
Lando didn’t flinch. “Yes.”
“She’s seventeen, Lando.”
“Seventeen and a half. Turning eighteen in four months. She’s smart. She’s kind. She’s studying aviation engineering. She’s not some random.”
“I’m not concerned about who she is. I’m concerned about how this looks.”
Lando leaned forward. “So am I. Which is why I’ve been careful. But I’m not going to end things just to save face.”
Zak studied him. “You love her?”
Lando hesitated. “I don’t know yet. But I might. I really might.”
A long pause.
Finally, Zak leaned back. “Then keep it quiet. For now. If this blows up mid-season, we’re all screwed.”
Lando stood. “Understood.”
As he left the room, he exhaled for the first time all day.
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That night, (Y/n) received a package at her dorm.
Inside is a McLaren team hoodie. Her name embroidered quietly beneath the logo. And a note.
For when the world’s too loud, and you still want to remember you’re mine. — Lando.
She pressed the hoodie to her chest and curled up on her bed.
She didn’t need the world’s approval.
Just his.
And for now, she had it.
To be continued...
✈️ ꜰʟɪɢʜᴛ ʀɪꜱᴋ - ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 6: ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜʀᴇꜱʜᴏʟᴅ✈️
