locked - Lando Norris 1/4

Canada - 1

Sat in bed reading my newest book I received a call, a call from my best friend Max. Max Verstappen. Some backstory on how Max and I became best friends; when we were both 4 years old Max and I met, our mothers had been friends since about our age too so we ended up seeing each other very often and formed a friendship. Since becoming an F1 driver, Max is super busy meaning we barely see each other at all, our schedules just don't line up anymore with me touring round the world with my dad and Max traveling the world with F1. Max and I still kept in frequent contact, usually after a race on a Sunday when Max had some downtime.

"Hello hello." I say answering the phone after scrambling to put my bookmark in my book and answer the call.
"There you are finally." Max says.
"Brother it rang about 3 times I was attempting to not lose my page." I huff sarcastically. At that point we swapped over to a facetime call where I saw max shrug looking occupied by something.
"What are you doing?" I ask looking at him on the screen confused.
"Signing hats." He huffs rolling his eyes. I laugh, that was his least favorite thing about being a driver, the hat signing.
"Gosh you poor thing!" I laugh throwing my hands in the air.
"Fuck you."
"L, anyways how was the race?" I ask.
"You're telling me you didn't watch." He gasps jokingly holding his chest.
"I'm a busy person." I laugh.
"I won of course," he winks, "you should come to Canada then you can't ignore my results." He smiles.
"I meannn.."
"Come on ims, you'd enjoy it. Like old times?" He says looking at me hopefully.
"Ok ok fine, on the condition I can talk to who I want and do what I want not like when we were kids and you'd beat up anyone who spoke to me." I say.
"Yes yes whatever gets you here," he rolls his eyes with a smile, "Christian wanted to meet you too since I talk to you all the time." Max says seemingly happy.
"You talk about me all the time? Or is that because he's your father figure?" I ask.
"He's not my father figure shut up." Max rolls his eyes again.
"Yeah yeah whatever." I reply now watching as he signs one hat after another.

We called for around an hour till he needed to shoot off and do something.
"But promise me, you'll come to Canada?" He asks moments before hanging up.
"I'll come to Canada." I smile. We end the call and I revert back to reading. Home alone just reading my books. It was something I spent most of my time doing whether it be on the road, waiting for a show to end or just simply to pass time while dad is out and while the house is quiet. Being a musician he's naturally loud, he's the most loud when brainstorming song ideas which makes peaceful reading not so easy. Not to say it's not oddly peaceful hearing what he comes up with.

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"Honey I'm home!!" Dad calls out as I hear the sound of the front door close.
"Hi!" I shout back awaiting his arrival into my bedroom. Ever since my mum died when I was 7, dad and I have gotten a lot closer. Mostly in my adult life. Following mums death dad sent me to an old friend of his, Toto Wolff, who is also coincidentally an F1 team principal and my godfather. Toto took care of me quite frequently while I was young when dad turned to alcohol, substances and being out of the house whenever physically possible which could have been days to months long at a time. I knew seeing Toto may make dad at ease about me leaving for Canada. I'll tell him about the trip when he comes into my room.

"Hi sweetheart!" Dad says bursting through my bedroom door, a daily occurrence.
"Quite the entrance." I laugh.
"What's an entrance if you don't make it memorable." He winks. I smile shaking my head at him.
"Well, would you like to hear some music?" He asks doing a ridiculous cheesy smile at me. I nod happily adjusting myself to be crosslegged on the bed as he peaks round my bedroom door into the hallway grabbing a guitar. Dad doesn't actually play guitar on stage but he learnt as a kid and helps out the band when creating new riffs for new songs. He also taught me to play when I was younger which are memories I cherish dearly. Being taught by my father and practically uncles to play guitar are some of my favorite childhood tour memories.