Faking it || Lando Norris LN

4

Olivia Reyes

After those interviews, my head was all over the place and it seemed as though Gianna's was too. I kept trying to make conversation on the way to the Ferrari lounge, but she spent the entire time on her phone.

"What the hell was that?" I mumbled, unsure of the presence of cameras near me. Gianna kept walking next to me, fingers typing fast and ignoring what I'd just said. "Gi...?" 

She kept typing. I pulled out my phone and opened Twitter. Bad decision.

Rule #1: Don't open Twitter after a disappointing practice session, qualifying, or Grand Prix. If possible, just don't ever open Twitter, for the love of God.

My name was trending on Twitter. It seemed like everyone with a Twitter account was either laughing at me or begging the team to pull me out before I kept having bad results. 

"Did people really think she was a good driver? She was just lucky last season. She should quit before Ferrari pull a RedBull and replace her mid-season."  one of the tweets said.

"Lol, wonder how well all of those magazine covers calling her 'Formula 1's driver to look out for' will age this season."  another.

"Reyes should really pursue a career in acting lol, she really made the world believe she was a decent driver and not just a rookie on a lucky strike." and another.

"Well it was nice to see a pretty face in the grid while it lasted. She should stick to modeling when her team drops her becaus—

"Sorry, sorry." She spoke, at last, snapping me out of the endless stream of tweets pouring down on me like scorching water. Her eyebrows shot up as she turned to see me while we walked. "We'll have a meeting real quick, I know you want to go rest as soon as possible but we're gonna need you in the room for this one."

I just nodded and followed her. The sweat dripping down my body was cold now.

We made our way to the Ferrari lounge and I followed her to one of the meeting rooms. My jaw dropped as my eyes took in how the entire marketing team was already there, sitting around the table. We were only six people inside the room, but when you've been fucking up your results and your media presence like this, it feels like an entire village looking down at you.

"Okay, okay" Gianna got the words out in a hurry as she closed the door and motioned for me to sit down. She sighed and placed her elbows on the table, pinching the bridge of her nose to ease the headache she must be having with all of this. "Let's fill you in."

But there was no need to. My results were being shitty, I knew that. I had left last season in a high. Articles were beginning to talk about me as Formula 1's best rookie of the season and the pressure for this year couldn't be higher. I knew all of this must be taking a huge toll on the marketing team. They'd looked like brave lunatics for giving a woman a seat last year (even though I'd won the Formula 2 Championship), and then they turned to look like ground-breaking visionaries who'd seen a safe reward in what everyone perceived as a gamble. Today, the team looked foolish, and it was because of me.

"Before we do that, it's important we tell you that we know this is just a streak of bad luck and that you'll be driving even better than last season in no time, okay?" Melissa, one of the marketing team staff spoke. Her words were kind, but they had a hint of a warning under them, like an order. "However, this streak is really threatening last season's hard work for us. You know it wasn't an easy job to, well—"