110. Happy halloween

                                    

                                          
It was already after dinner time when Lando picked me up for our spooky second date, as it was Halloween. We decided to go trick or treating, for no proper reason. It was just something we wanted to do on the spur of the moment, that's all. 
I never really celebrated Halloween, it wasn't very common in the Netherlands when I was younger. Especially not in the small town I grew up in. I also didn't pay much attention to it when I got a little older, other than buying the Halloween candies after the actual holiday, so it was much cheaper. Now that we were in the USA, I couldn't let this slip away that easily, and thankfully Lando agreed with me on that one. Meaning we dressed up in fancy costumes and started bothering the residents of Austin, knocking at the doors asking for candy. We definitely got some strange looks as we were rich and not six years old. Not that anyone could tell who we were exactly.
Lando literally dressed as a ghost with neon sunglasses, so he was completely unrecognisable, just having a bedsheet thrown over himself. I still had an old dress left, which with the right accessories, made a great fairy costume. My face was covered with those fake diamonds to add to an extravagant makeup look, not as hidden as Lando, obviously, but no one expected us to be here either. For that matter, we were millionaires taking kids' candy.
We were pretty good at it too, considering there weren't many people out and about on the street late at night. Not anymore. There were only a few lights on and a group of drunk adults stumbling outside. I saw a man wearing what looked like an alien spacesuit falling off the sidewalk. Lando laughed loudly, making the guy snap his alien head towards him before 'walking' off. Either way, it provided me with enough entertainment as we walked to the bus station.
"We should be way more responsible with planning our dates," Lando admitted as he took place on a bench. The bus would arrive any minute now. "I am so tired and we have practice tomorrow."
"Sucks to be you then," I chuckled. "Nyck is doing FP1 for me." I was pretty convinced they gave my seat to my former teammate. I guessed Alfa liked patterns, first they picked Charles, winning F2 with Prema in 2017. Then it was my turn, the same story but one year later. Now Nyck, who had won the championship in Russia. At least he got some bit of luck there. "Do you know what that means?"
"You're going to be a full-time McLaren supporter next year," Lando teased. It was kinda hard to take him seriously with his outfit. The sunglasses had been shoved up higher on his head over the course of the evening, and I only saw his eyes through two awfully cut out holes. "However, it's kinda depressing you will only see the back of my car on the cameras rather than from your own cockpit."
"Not funny," I said while slightly shoving him in the shoulder. I assumed Lando knew I signed for Ferrari as this guy read my diary as if it was the morning newspaper. It didn't bother me too much. However, he didn't say a word about my future. Perhaps he waited for me to announce it, or he was just unhappy about it and avoided the confrontation. I hoped it wasn't the latter. There was still a chance that he didn't know anything, of course. "Lower your expectations a bit though, I won't be cheering for you in your garage. As you know, all my loyalties lay with Ferrari." 
Lando let out a deep sigh and shook his head. "Sometimes you disappoint me, Daisy."
The bus arrived. We hopped on without further conversation. I started counting the candy that I collected to waste my time on the bus. Lando dozed off with his head against my arm. I rolled my eyes, finding it hard to believe he couldn't even stay awake for twenty minutes. 
We split up at our hotel, he went to his room and I went to mine, who else's, really. I didn't want to miss an opportunity to sleep in, however, I still set my alarm at nine o'clock simply to text Lando and wish him good luck for FP1. I planned I would go back to sleep right after that message. I'd show up at the track around noon, have lunch with my team and then get ready for FP2. As I went over my planning for the following day, I turned off my night light and dozed off like Lando had done on the bus earlier.
~~~
Nearing the end of the season, I was only more eager to leave this team on a high. My dramatic performance in Russia and average points in the last two races called for a change. I questioned the possibilities, however, finishing higher than eight seemed reasonable. I believed the car got slower after the summer break, or I got slower. In either case, McLaren had passed us in the championship. Worse, Lando didn't shut up about it. So really, for the sake of peace and quiet in my own house, I needed to put on a great show.
In the nicest way possible, Pierre totally screwed up my fast lap attempt in qualifying. I was close to missing out on Q2 because of him, but fortunately, that wasn't the case either. On the verge of being kicked out, I managed to improve by a few tenths, guaranteeing my safety. I attempted to set a fast time on mediums in Q2, although I merely got out of the danger zone. Last minute we switched for softs, I improved my lap quite a bit, placing me in ninth. Then Daniel and again Pierre, kicked me out of the safety zone, meaning I'd start the race from eleventh. Not the worst place to start as it meant I had free tire choice.
It was the worst place to finish though, leaving me just out of the points. The car had slowed down significantly in the final half of the race and it showed with every lap I took. I lost the full advantage I gained in the opening laps, and plenty of cars passed me by as if it was the easiest thing to do. They were able to pass me by swiftly without giving me even a glance. I could feel the disappointment settling heavily in my stomach, knowing everyone saw how terrible my performances were. 
When I finally reached the finish, I was beyond tired. Despite the exhaustion I felt, I managed to find the strength to smile brightly at the crowd before heading to the hospitality building, where I had to convince Aisha to not do media and that the fine wouldn't be an issue for me. She didn't listen at all, unfortunately, and I then had to convince every reporter and their grandma I was not losing my talent. Although it was hard to convince the judging media with a faltering smile that everything was alright and that I was still a good driver. Because I was. I was sure of it, I didn't lose my touch that easily.
A/n: 
I have been stuck on this chapter for months, isn't that wonderful? This is the reason why all my other chapters were delayed. I still didn't reach my desired word count, but honestly- I cannot care less at the moment. I just wanted to get this over with frankly.
I still hate it though. I missed an update by the way so I'm bothering you with a double update to compensate for it, you're very welcome x