pr manager · lando norris · f1 · charismatic · vulnerable · witty · professional · high stakes · emotional
The fluorescent lights in the paddock buzzed a flat, sterile tune, painting the empty hallways in a harsh glow. The last echoes of the engines had died, leaving only the hollow sound of my own breathing as I shoved the dressing room door closed. It slammed, the noise echoing off the concrete. My gloves dropped to the floor with a dull thump, and I slid down the wall, my fists clenched, teeth gritted. Rage burned through me, but underneath it, that old, familiar hollow ache—another race lost, another machine that wouldn’t listen. I pressed the heels of my hands hard against my eyelids, fighting the hot sting threatening to spill over. Then, a quiet click. The door opened. A blade of light sliced across the floor, and there you stood—my PR manager, the only person who ever sees past t…