The Elevator || Lando Norris

6 ~ Miami Grand Prix

Once again, there was a brief silence, with wallet guy's friend giving me an intense stare. Breaking the silence, wallet guy asked, "Couldn't find any orange?" He noticed that I was still wearing my blue tank top and white jeans. I shook my head and replied, "Nope, orange isn't my color."

Curiosity got the better of me, and I turned to face him, noticing his outfit change to an orange McLaren shirt. Chuckling a bit, I said, "Damn, I guess orange suits you." Then, I turned my attention to his friend, who was also sporting an orange outfit. "Your friend?" I tilted my head, asking. His friend gave a wide smile and I smiled back.

"Yeah, the others are waiting in the lobby," he replied as the elevator came to a stop. The doors opened, and I began walking out. After a few steps, I felt a grip on my arm. I turned around to see wallet guy once again. "Miss me already, wallet boy?" I teased. "Or should I say elevator boy?" He chuckled in response.

We locked eyes for a moment before he mustered up the courage to speak. "Uh, you mentioned that taxis are expensive, so I wanted to ask... Do you want to ride with me and my friend? We're heading to the track," he asked, nervously scratching the back of his neck with his other hand.

His kind offer left me stunned, and my jaw dropped in disbelief. "I mean, sure. But are you sure?" I asked, not wanting to be a bother. "Yeah, it's no problem," he reassured me. "My friends are over there," he said, scanning the lobby to find them.

I nodded in agreement. "Well, we can go now, but you gotta let go first," I pointed out, indicating his hand that was still holding onto my arm.

He quickly released his grip on my arm, a sheepish smile crossing his face. "Right, sorry about that," he apologized, his cheeks turning slightly pink. I couldn't help but find his embarrassment entertaining.

We walked towards two tall guys, who were chatting and laughing near the hotel entrance. As we approached, Elevator Guy's friend nudged him playfully and winked at him, earning a shy grin in return. It was clear that they were teasing him about something.

"So these are my friends," he said, gesturing to the two men who were smiling at me. "Ready to go now?" he asked them, and they nodded. We started walking out of the lobby, heading towards a big black car. Elevator guy's friend, also wearing McLaren merchandise, picked up his pace and reached the car before I did. He opened the back door and moved out of the way to let me in.

I smiled at him as I got into the car, "Why thank you," I said, sarcastically playing the part of a proper lady. He grinned widely and joined in the joking, "You're welcome, Madame," he said, giving a little bow before closing the door. It was the first time I heard him speak, and his Australian accent added a touch of charm. I looked out the window and noticed that elevator guy and the two guys from the lobby were lagging behind. They were in their own conversation, and the taller blonde guy burst into laughter. I couldn't be bothered less about what they were saying.

Soon enough, one of the guys went around to the other side of the car, lifting the middle seat to create space for him to sit in the back row. The Australian McLaren fan took the front seat next to what appeared to be a hired driver. The other guy followed suit, entering the car from the left side. The door on my right suddenly opened, and I shuffled to the middle of the seat to make room for the elevator guy to sit on my right.

A few minutes passed, and I took the opportunity to text my friends on the way.

Suddenly, the blonde guy to my left broke the silence, "Do you get into strangers' cars a lot?" he casually asked, a hint of curiosity in his tone. I chuckled and shook my head. "First time actually," I replied. "Do you let strangers into your cars often?" I playfully shot back.