- "you're not saying you're
in love with me,
but you're going to."
or, the one where the music industry's it girl meets F1's it boy and the media just *has* to make a scene about it
[ lando norris | social media + irl ]
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ABU Dhabi is as bright as ever, in this big restaurant overflowing with guests. Some people are wearing party clothes, others are still in their team gear from the Grand Prix; but regardless of what someone was wearing, they were talking to someone. One, two, maybe even a big group of seven people all at once.
Sareena found herself alone at the bar again, the same pool table she had paid attention to the first time she came here still catching her eye.
The game is between Lando and Bianca against Pierre and Charles, while Oscar and Logan are sat on-looking the game, waiting for their turn to exchange with the losing team.
On her pale wrist, Sareena feels the beads of a certain red, blue, and yellow bracelet with the number '33' flush against her skin. She reaches for one of the white beads with the number indentation and begins fidgeting with it.
It was Max's, an artifact she accidentally stole when he was too drunk to care back when they first met last year.
Same place, same event, around the same time.
Where could he have been? She's sure that Red Bull Racing's superstar wouldn't miss such a big end-of-season celebration party.
Sareena watches as Bianca shoots one of the billiard balls into a pocket, and she high-fives Lando as it sinks down. In the distance, she can hear Pierre's protests about her being too good, and the laughter of the six individuals by the pool table barely overheard through the music.
The nearly tasteless little lemonade that she's been sipping on is getting more and more watered down by the minute, but she's staying awake until they go home, because she knows she'll be on driver duty anyway—even though she had barely flown in three hours ago because her only reason for being here was giving the bracelet to Max.
She might be an introvert, but she knows how to keep her word.
So, to keep her awake and to keep her alert, she stirs, and stirs, and stirs her beverage around with her tall straw, and watches the ice swirl around as her attention goes from the game of pool to the question of Where the hell is Max—
"Hello, pretty teacher."
Sareena turns her head and halts her movements.
The restaurant is so dim, so dim for a high-budget place rented out by Toto Wolff (in honor of Lewis's departure to Ferrari,) but she can still see his features quite well, even in the orange and beige hues.
