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Franco knows he should move. Sitting on the hard floor of his driver’s room is not exactly comfortable. But it’s grounding.
And he needs that. The feeling of being there, of being solid. The feeling of his own heart beating in his chest. He needs to feel alive.
Today, for the first time in his career, he was afraid.
When the rain increased and the car felt like a scared horse under him. When he felt like he was battling against the weather and the car at the same time. When, fear appeared.
F1 drivers don’t think about the risks they’re taking. It’s something they learn to accept early. If they are afraid, they can’t push the car to its limits.
But there on the Brazilian track, Franco has let fear insinuate itself in his mind… And it’s still there.
“Franco?”
The voice takes him out of his thoughts. He looks up and sees Lando. Lando who looks worried and kneels by his side immediately.
“Fran? Are you alright?”
The little nickname makes Franco smile but it’s a weak one. He tries to nods, to reassure Lando but he can’t. He just look at him. For once, he’s speechless.
“Oh… Franco…”
And Lando hugs him.
The warm embrace is comforting but it also breaks the light dam Franco had managed to construct.
He feels his eyes sting and he tries to retain the tears but it’s hopeless. Everything comes back then. The fear, the doubts, the loss of control…
“Hey, s’okay.” Lando says gently as he rubs Franco’s back.
Franco wants to disappear. He feels so ashamed of breaking down like that. In front of a competitor, in front of the guy he had been flirting with. He feels like an idiot. A little boy that dreams to be a champion but who’s just a silly mess…
He’s got a chance to be part of it, to be an F1 driver and all he can do is cry…
“Let it out. It’s okay. The race was brutal…” Lando keeps talking and Franco tries to focus on that. “They should have stopped it… But you did good. You’re safe. We all are.”
Franco can’t really believe Lando’s praise but the Brit’s voice is soothing and soon, he calms down. He gets ready for Lando to let go of him and leave. Lando doesn’t.
“‘m sorry,” Franco mumbles a bit later, finally extracting himself from Lando’s arms.
“What for?”
“Being a mess…”
Lando chuckles then.
“Fran… We’re all messy sometimes. We all went through what you’re going through. S’okay, really.”
“No… I should–”
“Stop. Don’t. You might be an F1 driver but you’re still young. We’re not robots… Even if Oscar and Max make it look like it sometimes.”
This time, Franco chuckles too.
“What about some dinner? Little cheat meal to cheer you up?” Lando suggests then as he stands up and holds his hand towards Franco.
“You and me?”
“Who else?”
Who else, indeed. Franco smiles and take Lando’s hand.