Chapter Text
Saturday, December 19th , 2020 - McLaren Technology Centre, Woking
“…and so, on behalf of the whole team, I just really wanna say: Thank you, Carlos - for these two years, for all the good work, on- and off-track, for the many points, the two podiums and the general effort you put into it, every single day. You’ve contributed so well to the team, and it was a pleasure working with you. And I’m sure I’ll speak for everyone when I say: You will be missed.”
The bystanders bursted into applause as soon as Andreas finished his speech, as if to agree with him, and Lando instantly joined in, while watching with a proud smile on his face how Carlos and his now ex-team-boss shared a farewell-hug on the little stage.
Because that was what this evening was about: Carlos’ farewell. The last race for him with McLaren was over and so the traditional Christmas party at the MTC this time was also an occasion to say goodbye to the Spaniard, who would race in red next year.
And since goodbyes were never easy, it was a bittersweet event for everyone - but especially for Lando. None of the other employees around him had an idea of how much Carlos meant to him, not even Carlos himself. Of course, everybody knew that they were close, good friends, assumably, but it wasn’t just that.
The Spaniard meant more to Lando than one could ever imagine, more than he himself would have ever imagined. Over time, Carlos had become such an important person in his life that he didn't want to miss him anymore, not for even a second, as Lando was reminded once again, when he watched him on that stage, how he, visibly uncomfortable in the centre of everyone’s attention, shifted from one foot to the other, obviously overwhelmed with all the appreciation and not really knowing where to look.
He was even gorgeous when he was ashamed.
And coincidence or not, but Carlos’ gaze suddenly found Lando’s in the crowd of applauding McLaren employees and out of reflex, Lando gave him a quick sarcastic-thumbs-up, which caused the older one to smile - and Lando couldn’t help but smile back at the muppet who had, without doubt and in all means, become his best mate.
When he had made his first steps into F1, Lando would have never thought a relationship like this was even possible among teammates, not in a sport that was so competitive and pressurizing - but Carlos had proven him wrong.
From the moment they had first met each other, right here, at the MTC, in that far too huge conference room for two, they had somehow been at ease with each other; and what had started there quickly grew into a sincere friendship. Naturally almost, as if it had been meant to be.
At least that was what Lando believed. That it had been fate, meeting Carlos. A lucky strike of fate. It just had to be, there was no other explanation.
He still had no idea what he had done without him. In his rookie year, everything had been so overwhelmingly new and huge. F2 had been massive before, but driving in F1 was another level - the pressure, the media interest and fame that unavoidably went with it, alone, not even talking about driving the car in general.
He still struggled sometimes to cope with that sideshow-stuff, to be honest, but in the beginning it had caused him severe anxiety. Wether it was before getting into the car, wanting to put on a good performance on the track, or during fan signings or press conferences, with dozens of people looking at him - it had been a tough challenge, mentally.
Too tough, sometimes.
But Carlos had helped him so much with that; sometimes even unknowingly, just by being there, all calm and versed, or by the respectful way he approached him in general.
That was another thing Lando was thankful for in particular. Carlos had never looked down on him as “the rookie”, “the newbie” or anything, nor had he been arrogant over his further racing experience or played mind games with him - nor had he shown any other alpha-male-bullshit-behaviour, which sadly was so common in a sport like this.
Instead, Carlos had taken him under his wing and had kept an eye on him as if he was his little brother, making sure he was fine during the race weekends, so far away from home and their families. He had cheered Lando up whenever he had been frustrated or sad, had helped him focus when he had been anxious and stressed, and also, the older one had gladly shared all the tips and tricks he knew with him, in both matters on- and off-track.
Lando still didn’t know what he had done to deserve someone as kind and caring as Carlos in his life, but nonetheless, he was so thankful for having met him and for having been able to make his start in the masterclass of motorsport alongside the best teammate, the best friend he could have ever, ever imagined.
But of course, he had been aware that nothing lasts forever and especially not in the fast-moving world of F1 that they lived in. They both had been.
Nevertheless, it had still been quite a shock when Carlos had told him about his new contract with Ferrari - and despite all emphatic joy, Lando had needed some time to get over this news, finding himself weirdly torn between cold-shouldering his friend and clinging even more onto him for the next races, before they had been able to continue with business as usual.
Mostly because everything had seemed so far away - back then, they had had almost the whole season ahead of them; and so they had made the best of it, enjoying the remaining time together to its fullest, not wasting more thoughts than necessary on the approaching end.
But now, the time had come.
Last weekend in Abu Dhabi, Carlos’ official last racing weekend with the team, they had been asked about their “split up” in every interview, which had made the whole thing omnipresent and hard to ignore.
But never before had the farewell felt as final and inevitable as in this moment, when Lando watched Carlos on that stage, once more getting the applause and all those kind words which he deserved so much.
But this time, it would be for the last time, at least getting it from this team.
Even though his contract officially lasted until December 31st, tonight was the last “team-duty” they had to fulfill for 2020, before everyone would enter holiday-season and pause work until after the turn of the year, making tonight the last evening Carlos would spend with his old team.
After tonight, them being teammates would be fully a thing of the past, with no more joint press conferences and debriefs in the future, no team dinners, no shared hotel rooms and overnight-FIFA-sessions, no more hilarious PR appearances and making videos for social media together, having the best of fun meanwhile.
The bare thought of it made Lando’s heart clench with pain. He had become so fond of all these things over the past two years that he still couldn’t believe how nothing of this would happen again next season.
Like, of course they would still spend time together, as they had also promised to the media multiple times, but they both knew it would not be the same anymore. It simply couldn’t. Not driving for the same team indeed made a huge difference, no matter how often they tried to convince each other (and maybe themselves, too) of the opposite.
So tonight was the last night of life as they knew it, and that was the reason why Lando didn’t leave Carlos’ side anymore as soon as the official part was over and the Spaniard came off the stage.
He followed him around everywhere for the rest of the evening; wether it was to the buffet or when they were just strolling through the festively decorated foyer of the MTC and shared a few talks with other people, who wanted to wish Carlos well personally - Lando stuck by his side.
Luckily, the older one didn’t seem to mind (or at least he didn’t say anything), and Lando was extremely glad about that, because he needed Carlos’ near tonight, just for this one more time.
He literally caught himself a few times trying to soak it all in, his presence, the feeling of him standing next to him, the scent of his cologne, the sound of voice, his laugh, his accent, everything - so that he could feed on the memory for the next year… and the year after and after and so on.
Because, even though everyone only kept talking about 2021, this was not a temporary thing. It wasn’t as if Carlos would go on a student exchange year or a once-in-a-lifetime-world-travel or anything, only to return after a fixed period of time.
This was a one-way-ticket.
His time with McLaren was over, for now. Maybe he would drive for this team again someday, but that was written in the stars - as well as if Lando and him were ever gonna be teammates again or if these two years had been it, for all of their careers.
The imagination alone made Lando feel sick and he would have loved to just let it all out and cry, but he couldn’t - not in front of everybody else. And especially not in front of Carlos, on his special evening. He didn’t want to ruin it for his best friend, he would not be able to forgive himself that.
So, as tough as it was, he quickly swallowed the lump in his throat and then tried to keep up with the conversation again, which the older one and two employees from the PR department were involved in.
He really tried. He nodded from time to time, making “Ah”- and “Mhmm”-sounds every now and then as if he was honestly interested, and even forced himself to laugh in the right moments - but he couldn’t shake the hint of melancholy off anymore.
And even though the chat with the PR’s revolved around the same topics again as in the other talks before - the very successful season they had, Christmas and Carlos’ future with Ferrari -, Lando felt worn out from having to play it all good and joke about how Carlos better not be too fast next year, haha. Funny.
So he was glad when it was over and he and Carlos moved on with their walk through the foyer - without a real destination, though, just strolling around among the others.
As it was the case on Christmas parties - even despite this was a Christmas-slash-farewell-party -, everybody was having a good time. The bittersweet undertone had gone, now that the official part with the speeches was over, and the festive spirit had taken over again - well, on everybody except Lando, as it seemed.
Having heard so much about Ferrari in the last hour, the thought that his best friend would leave had fully settled in his head and darkened his mood; and apparently not only on the inside, as Carlos touched him on the shoulder and took him aside as soon as they were on their own.
“Are you okay?”, the older one murmured to him, the deep, familiar voice so close to his ear that it sent a shiver done his spine. “You look a bit… dead.”
Oh!
Out of reflex, Lando nodded and quickly said that he was fine - but when he looked up and met Carlos’ gaze, he could see that he had not been very convincing with that: The older one’s eyes where full of concern.
“Just… a little dehydrated, I think”, Lando therefore hurried to add, going with the first excuse that came to his mind. “I- I just need to drink something. Too much talking.”
As if to prove that, he cleared his throat exaggeratedly.
Carlos, though, just tilted his head in surprise. “But you barely said anything”, he went and eyed him suspiciously, almost scanning Lando as if he could find the real reason hidden in his body language - what put Lando under even more stress.
“Yeah, but… still”, he insisted, mentally facepalming himself in the same second for this very convincing reply. Great job! Now Carlos definitely knew something was wrong.
So, hastily, before he could ask any further, Lando changed the subject:
“Do you want anything, too?”, he asked and weirdly pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, about towards where the bar and the buffet were set - and very, very luckily, Carlos let him get away with it:
“Yeah, just, uhm… get me a Cola or something…”, he answered, apparently fine with dropping this topic, but his chocolate-eyes were still full of skepticism, causing Lando to shiver uncomfortably once more and making him almost flee from the situation.
“Cola. Okay. I got you. Be right back!”, he went, for whatever reason awkwardly shooting finger-guns at Carlos - for which he wanted to give himself another facepalm as soon as he had turned around. Finger-guns, really? “I got you” ?! Could it get anymore awkward?
Lando felt his cheeks heating up, as he made his way to the bar. Dang it, what was wrong with him?!
Well, of course he knew what it was, deep inside of him, but- what was wrong with him to let it show so much?!
He had known before that it wouldn’t be easy, but he had at the same time promised himself to not ruin this for Carlos, to not make it weird or about his own feelings - but as it seemed, he was on a good way to hit all three of these.
And this realization made him so angry and ashamed at the same time that, when he came across one of the waiters, who were also walking through the foyer with tablets to make sure everyone had something to drink, he quickly reached for a flute of champagne.
Actually, Lando only rarely drank alcohol, since partying and getting drunk wasn’t his cup of tea - but tonight, it was exactly what he needed.
Without thinking, he poured the champagne down all at once, hoping it would help him calm his nerves. But instead, it only caused his stomach to instantly revolt, making him belch, and Lando involuntarily pulled a face at the nasty taste in his mouth, when he was reminded again why he normally didn’t drink that stuff, not even on the podium. Yucks! Disgusting!
All the faster he went over the last stretch to the bar, where the people gathered who wanted to drink something other than champagne - thank God that the nasty bubbly wasn’t the only thing served tonight!
Fortunately, it also didn’t took long until the bartender turned to him and he could order the promised Cola for Carlos, whereas for himself, he just went for still water - because he had a feeling that joining the Spaniard on Cola (or any other carbonated drink) wouldn’t be the best idea, with his stomach still rumbling in complain…
Because the drinks were on the company tonight, Lando didn’t have to pay anything and could just grab the two small glass bottles as the bartender handed them over, and leave again.
And now pull yourself together, Norris!, he told himself off after a refreshing sip of water when he made his way back to Carlos, keeping his eyes fixed on the ice-cold bottles in his hands, careful not to spill anything and only looking up briefly every few steps, so as not to bump into anyone.
He had almost made it back through the foyer, when he lifted his gaze again to search for Carlos - only to see him talking to Zak and, according to their appearance, two other higher employees, who Lando didn’t know.
Involuntarily, Lando slowed down his steps, not sure if he should join up with them.
He always felt a little uncomfortable when important people where around, because he had a knack for saying stupid things (or embarrassing himself in various other ways), when he should better behave professional and serious. And also, it was obvious that Carlos was “the man of the moment”, literally, and Lando didn't want to disturb them - but before he could decide wether to back off and wait for them to finish or to be brave and approach them, Carlos turned his head and spotted him.
And as soon as he did, the Spaniard smiled broadly at him and reached out his arm to invite him in, causing Zak and the other two to turn their heads as well - and Lando had no other choice than to put on a smile and proceed walking towards the group, who had all seen him now.
Thanks, Carlos!
But his anger at the older one didn’t last long, because in the second he joined them and politely said “good evening” to everyone, Carlos made up for it:
“Norrizzio!”, he exclaimed happily about his return - a nickname the Spaniard had just come up with during the last weeks - and wrapped his arm around his shoulders, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It kind of also was, since Carlos had always been a touchy and affective person, presumably based on his South European background, and it definitely wasn’t that Lando didn’t like it, on the contrary, actually - but it was what this act of friendship did to him. How it made him feel deep inside, what it did to his mind, being so close to his teammate; feeling his warm body right beside his own, being held close by his strong arm…
Quickly he muttered something like “Here you go…” and passed Carlos his requested drink, in the hope that they’d carry on with their conversation as if nothing had happened - and also that nobody would notice how much he enjoyed the half-hug of this as-yet-teammate.
But unfortunately not: Before Carlos could even thank him for the drink, Zak pointed at Lando’s own bottle.
“What’s that, you drinking water?”, he asked in his broad American accent, sounding amused. And when Lando nodded, together with an unsure “…yeah?”, his team boss just laughed.
“Dude, you’re 20 and a Christmas party, where all drinks are on the company - and you drink water?”
The comment caused the others to grin as well, even Carlos, as Lando could tell by the way he exhaled, standing so close to him that he literally felt the change in the Spaniard’s breathing rhythm.
Under different circumstances, this surely would have made Lando feel uncomfortable and, if he hadn’t already, made him blush, probably mumbling some random excuse in selfdefense, even though he was aware that it was just Zak’s habit to joke about anything and everyone, but meaning no serious harm with it - but not tonight. The arm still around his shoulders gave him tremendous confidence.
So he just shrugged all casually and answered back: “I mean, they had run out of milk, so…”
This made the group burst out into laughter, and especially Zak. The McLaren Racing boss let out his unmistakable guffaw and patted Lando on the other shoulder with his big hand, so hard that it almost made him lose balance and stumble into to Carlos - who, by the way, still didn’t make a move to take his arm away…
“Good comeback!”, his boss praised him and when Lando smiled back, it was an honest smile, and for a brief moment, everything was fine again - it was amazing what a halfway-hug from Carlos’ could do and Lando tried to keep hold of that feeling for as long as possible, when the conversation was continued.
Again, it revolved around the amazing 2020 season, plans for the holidays and wishing Carlos all the best for his drive with Ferrari, and again it was not without the (no longer very unique) joke of “…but hopefully not too fast!”, regarding their battle on track next year.
Lando mentally rolled his eyes at that and thought that, if he and Carlos and him had made a drinking game out of that, they would be really drunk by now. The imagination caused him to chuckle lightly, but nobody noticed, because at the same time, it was the Spaniard who drew everyone’s attention to himself, when he asked if he maybe could go and see his car one last time.
“Oh, uhm…”, Zak stammered, obviously taken by surprise with this request, and Lando already saw the “No” coming for Carlos - which would have been understandable, as he was no longer allowed in the “sacred halls” of the MTC with his obligations towards Ferrari. That was also why he had already given back his access keycard before.
So it would have been very relatable, if Zak had denied him that wish - but Lando couldn’t let that happen, not on Carlos’ farewell party. He just had to step in.
“I can go with him!”, he suggested, a bit too euphorically maybe, and all heads in their group turned towards him.
“Like… to make sure he doesn’t spy or anything!”, he swiftly added, trying his best to sound convincing and trustworthy to win Zak over.
Zak’s facial expression, though, gave it all away. His boss didn’t seem to be sure if it was a good idea to let, of all people, Lando accompany the soon-to-be-ex-McLaren-driver to his old car. He probably already saw them up to any shenanigans before his inner eye, in case he let them go together, without a “real”, responsible adult to watch over them - but of course he couldn’t say that in front of the other associates.
So with a long sigh, he eventually gave in, much to Lando and Carlos’ delight, and they quickly thanked Zak for this exception - before their boss could regret his decision and change it back, because he looked like he would have loved to do just that.
“But keep out of mischief!”, he warned the both of them as if they were kids, to which they just nodded and assured “Yes, of course!” almost in synch like in the puppet-video, before they, without further ado, said their goodbyes and headed off to go and see the car.