Chapter Text
That bitch.
It’s a stupid thought, really. It’s petty and beneath someone like me. And yet it’s the first thing that comes to mind. Anger doesn’t rise in me. Not panic or fear. Just mild irritation, like discovering a stain on a shirt you were certain was clean. Because that’s what this is, in the end. A stain.
Everything was perfect before him. It was a perfect system, a perfect routine. I had perfect control.
I don’t make mistakes. I never have. Every variable accounted for, every movement precise, every detail… clean. That’s the only way anything works. Racing, killing, living. Mess ruins things. Carelessness ruins things. And I was never careless. Not until Lando.
Lando Norris has always been a problem. I just didn’t realize it at first.
The funny thing is, I knew the moment I saw him. People like to romanticize those moments. They call it love at first sight or destiny or some other sentimental nonsense. It isn’t like that. It’s simpler, more like a recognition than a revelation. Like a certainty.
I saw him once, years ago, long before any of this really mattered. It was in a karting paddock with engines that were too loud and there were too many kids with too much confidence. And there he was.
He was laughing. Bright in a way that makes people look at him whether they want to or not.
I remember thinking, very clearly, very calmly:
I need him.
But it wasn't want, no, it was need. There’s a difference. Like every bone in my body would break just for that smile
At the time, I didn’t know what that meant. Whether I wanted him beneath me, beside me, or bleeding out on the asphalt. I suppose, in the end, that uncertainty is what ruined everything. Because the truth is, I could have done this forever.
The system worked. It always worked. On Thursday I observed. On Friday I prepared. Saturday night… I corrected. And Sunday…Well, Sunday was perfection. It was simple, but efficient.
And then there was Lando, orbiting my life like some persistent little star, warm and irritating and impossible to ignore. If it had been anyone else, I would have removed the problem. But it wasn’t anyone else.
It was him.
And somehow, somewhere along the way, that made all the difference.
So yes. That bitch.
Not the police. Not the FIA. Not the endless parade of people who will pretend to be shocked when they finally understand what I’ve done. None of them matter.
No.
If anyone ruined a perfectly good thing, it was Lando Norris. And the worst part is…
I think I let him.