lando had a rough few weeks, he felt like he was underperforming even though he was doing amazing and getting a podium in all five races so far.

today was qualifying in saudi arabia and you had come with him to all three races of the triple header.

lando made it to q3 and was on his first flying lap when he hit the wall. you were stood in the garage, headphones on to listen to lando’s radio and watching one of the big screens.

“you okay?” his engineer asked over the radio.

“yeah.. i’m okay.. fucking idiot,” he mumbled the last part to himself.

“don’t worry mate, it’s alright.” his engineer said back.

you watched him climb into the medical car, and you were practically shitting yourself. it felt like ages until lando was given the all clear.

he came back into the mclaren motorhome with zak, where you were stood waiting amongst some of the team. he still had his race suit on, pushed around his waist revealing his black fireproofs as usual. thank god, he looked okay and smiling, but you knew he was close to breaking point.