CHINA

★

The Chinese Grand Prix rolls around quickly, the time that passes seems like only a couple days to Sophia, even though it's really been weeks. Two weeks of working at MTC, preparing Lando's car for the race. She and the other mechanics are confident in their work and hopefully, together with Lando's skills, they'll be able to secure a podium.

After four long months working with McLaren, it's safe to say Sophia knows Lando's car better than the back of her hand.

She's studied it tirelessly, knows every inch, every crevice, the exact point in the design where the orange turns to black, and every piece of equipment that even remotely comes near it.

This is the happiest she's been in a while. Building the car, making the perfect adjustments and making it as fast as possible is thrilling, it fills her with a sense of pride, makes her feel like she has a purpose.

All of this to say, she loves her job.

Qualifying in Shanghai flies by, Lando securing fourth place, while Oscar gets fifth. The energy in the McLaren garage is buzzing, everyone confident in the team, the drivers included. Sophia hasn't seen Lando this cheerful in a while, and it's refreshing.

She sees him get out of the car, mechanically removing his gloves, helmet and balaclava, his face flushed from the heat of being in the car for an hour, while the black fabric has left faint lines around his features.

Sophia turns away before he catches her staring, turning her attention to her co-worker who's handing her Lando's wheel. She takes a hold of it and leaves to put it away, huffing out a breath to blow a stray piece of hair out of her face.

She needs to stay focused. Things are going good for her right now, she has a good salary, gets to travel the world with amazing people, and is surrounded by things she loves constantly. She doesn't have time for men, especially men who have done her dirty in the past. But... it's not like she can help it.

Her eyes wander more often than not, and it's even harder to look away when Lando looks back, when his familiar eyes stare into hers. She knows what's happening, but she really, really can't allow it to happen. Can't allow herself to fall again, when the last time she did, there was no one to catch her.

The faint chatter happening behind her is tuned out, as she clears some space on a nearby desk and puts down the wheel, still warm from where Lando was holding onto it not that long ago. She fiddles around with a couple of things on the desk, trying to make herself look busy as all of a sudden she really doesn't want to turn around. Because she knows as soon as she does she'll be drawn back into Lando's orbit, constantly growing bigger and spinning faster and faster, sucking her in like a black hole.

A figure in fireproofs shows up in her peripheral vision, and stands next to her at the table. She flinches and looks up, surprised that Lando would be so forward in front of the entire team. But it isn't him. Oscar Piastri's impassive face stares back at hers, a small smile appearing when he sees he's caught her attention.

"Hi." He runs a hand through his sweat-soaked hair, voice slightly rough from lack of use.

"Oh!" She glances down at the table, and then turns to fully face him, figuring she ought to show a bit of respect. "Hello, sorry I thought you were someone else."

"Lando?" Oscar's eyes slide from Sophia's to somewhere over her shoulder, clearly looking at him.

She doesn't say anything in reply, just shrugs her shoulders unsurely and looks down at her hands.

"Y'know... not that I- I don't really know anything, but it's easy enough to figure out something happened between you two." Sophia's eyes widen, shocked to hear the driver say what clearly everyone's been thinking.

"It's none of my business," he continues, hands twitching nervously behind his back. "But I just want you to know, Lando is a lot happier when you're around. A lot happier than last season, even." His accent is unique in Sophia's ears, but she understands what he's saying perfectly, the weight in his words.

"Thank you," she says after a long moment, eyes finally following Oscar's and turning around to see Lando. He's laughing at something Andrea is saying, a wide grin splitting his cheeks beautifully. Sophia turns back to Oscar, who's still staring at his teammate. And suddenly, she feels a deep sense of camaraderie with Oscar. His eyes slowly creep back over to hers, and she smiles softly at him. He returns it, then turns and leaves the garage.

ᯓᡣ𐭩

It's a slightly chilly day in Shanghai, but Sophia is comfortable in her papaya hoodie, and the car beneath her hands is warming her from the inside out. Lando is hovering around, breathing in and out deeply to get himself in the zone.

There's mere minutes before Lando has to get in the car and start his formation lap, and Sophia is slightly nervous. P4 is a decent starting position, good even, but Sophia is worried Lando won't be able to hold his position, or worse, lose it, considering the pressure he's under.

Her thoughts are broken by Lando stepping past her to climb up and into his seat, the two of them making eye-contact for a split second, Lando's eyes fiery in the sliver she can see through his helmet.

"Lando," she starts, standing nervously. He looks over his shoulder at her, and she smiles despite herself.

"Good luck."

He pauses, hovering oddly halfway over the halo. His engineer tells him to hurry up before he can respond, but he nods at Sophia appreciatively. Lando proceeds to push down his visor, before sinking fully into his seat, and Sophia gets back to her job, grasping the tyre cover on her assigned tyre.

The three other people assigned to the tyres take their place at all four corners of the car, readying themselves to take the covers off before the car drives away.

Sophia is positioned at the front right tyre of Lando's car, familiar with the position from her prior training. It's in perfect sync with the other three mechanics that she takes the cover off, and then Lando is off. Straight out of the pit lane and onto his formation lap for the Chinese Grand Prix.

Sophia pushes herself up from her crouch, and accepts the fist bumps her coworkers offer her. She takes a calming breath, then walks away to prepare herself for whatever may happen in this race.

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dear reader!

how obvious is it that my editor slash cowriter is an 81