Chapter Text
The Quadrant Tower was a 74 storey all imposing, concrete slab, slap bang in the middle of London. An eyesore as the locals would say. Its odd shape and countless windows only added to its unappealing presence, and it was often the target of vandals and graffiti artists.
On the 73rd floor was Lando Norris’s office, the owner and CEO of Quadrant Limited, the top Hedge Fund in the UK. He was also the world youngest “self-made” billionaire- though many would dispute the label, given the £300 million inheritance he received at the age of 19 following his father’s death.
His usually well-styled curly brown hair was now a messy mop from countless times running his fingers through it. The blinds were drawn tight, leaving the room dim except for the small desk lamp casting a soft glow over the papers scattered on his desk. His small frame seemed to fold in on itself as he hunched over, lost in thought.
“You doing ok?” Lando’s assistant, and long time friend, Alex was at the door. His hands were full of documents and concern was etched across his face. Lando looked up, a slight blush appearing on his tanned cheeks. He had hoped that Alex had gone home early. It was a Monday after all. He hated not looking put together, even if it was in front of a boy he had known for 15 years.
“Yeah sorry. It’s just the McLaren stock. It just dropped significantly. No one knows why,” Lando muttered, rubbing his temples.
“Ah sorry. I can’t help you there. You know maths was never my strong point,” Alex chuckled, plonking the documents on Lando’s desk. The thud made the billionaire jump and he looked up to see a sheepish grin on Alex’s face. He sighed, looking at his assistant’s shiny black hair that had been neatly styled in the dim light.
“Did you look into the mindfulness stuff I sent you? It’s supposed to be really good for-“
“-Alex I know you mean well but meditation is not going to help me fix this,”
The assistant frowned at the dismissal but nodded. Lando hoped he would never bring it up again. Truth be told, he had tried it-he really had- but it seemed to make even more stressed about everything. Lando was an overthinker, and silence was not good for someone with those traits.
“You can’t keep on like this though,” Alex said sternly, moving towards the windows. “I mean when was the last time you opened these blinds? Not having sunlight for an extended period of time is bad for you. Fact,” The assistant pressed a remote and the blinds began to open. Lando winced at the natural light, despite it being a miserable and rainy day in London.
“Probably 3 or 4 days? I can’t remember,” He muttered, shielding his eyes from the sun. Alex groaned and looked his boss up and down.
“These are same clothes you had on Friday. Have you showered? Lando have you been sleeping in here?!” Lando blushed and brushed his hands across his suit, trying to get rid of the creases, but it only made him look more guilty.
“Your apartment is literally upstairs. It takes you less than a minute to get there. Why on Earth haven’t you left this room?!” Alex’s motherly tone made Lando frown. He hated when his friend forgot that he was his employee.
“I didn’t know if someone would need me. Besides, I don’t get why it’s such a big deal. I know plenty of workers who don’t like to leave the office,” That was a lie. Quadrant encouraged a healthy work-life balance and Lando did not know any other CEOs well enough to learn their habits. He knew that Alex was right.
“Not CEOs. You should be jetting off to Monaco or playing golf in Scotland. Being cooped up in an office for a whole weekend is not healthy.” Alex stood with his arms crossed, his sharp eyes narrowing as he spoke. His black hair was perfectly styled, not a strand out of place, which only made the contrast with Lando’s dishevelled state even more apparent.
Lando scoffed, his lips curving into a slight smirk, though his eyes looked tired. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his messy curls once again. Monaco and golf? Those were activities for rich people with friends, Lando thought bitterly. He only had two—and one of them worked for him, while the other would rather die than let Lando pay for anything.
“Next weekend, you, me and George are going to do something,” He pointed at Lando, eyebrows raised, clearly not taking no for an answer. “No more hiding away in here. I’m also going to talk to Logan.”
Lando frowned at the name, leaning forward slightly, trying to place it. He rubbed his temples with his fingers, as if that would somehow help jog his memory. "Logan?" The name seemed familiar, but he couldn’t quite remember who it was or why it rang a bell.
“You know, the guy I interned for?” Alex’s tone softened, though a small smile tugged at his lips. “He used to be like you. Never left the office, but I saw him last week, and he was like a different person. He might be able to give you some advice.”
Lando snorted, shaking his head as he leaned back in his chair again, his eyes crinkling slightly in amusement. “Maybe he did some mindfulness,” he said with a playful tone, the sarcastic edge clear.
Alex’s smile widened, but he rolled his eyes dramatically. “Hey, don’t be mean! It works for most people,” he shot back, though his voice was light.
Lando’s smirk faded as he sighed, leaning forward again. “Ok, ok. I’m sorry.”
There was a beat of silence before Alex spoke again, his voice gentler this time, almost hesitant. “Lando?”
“Hm?” Lando responded, not lifting his head, still rubbing the back of his neck absently.
“I think it would be better if you moved your office down the corridor, where you’re closer to Daniel and Max” Alex’s tone was more serious now, though his expression remained soft. “That way, I’m not the only person you see all week,”
Lando looked up, confusion flickering across his face, but before he could voice any protest, Alex cut him off.
“I’m not sure—”
“—I’m doing it,” Alex interrupted, a teasing smile returning to his lips. But there was an expression on his face that told Lando not to argue back. “Go upstairs and have a shower. By the time you get back it’ll be all set up. Go. NOW,” He emphasized the last word, pointing towards the door like a parent scolding a child.
Lando blinked in surprise, his resistance fading as Alex’s commanding tone took over the room. He slumped in his chair for a moment longer, but he knew better than to argue when Alex had that look in his eye. With a sigh of defeat, he pushed himself up from his chair, his long frame moving slowly as he stretched and started towards the door.
It was hard to remember at times that he was the boss of their relationship.
——
At a dimly lit corner booth in a classic English pub, three friends sat around a small wooden table, the light overhead casting a soft glow on their beers. The football was on in the background and locals were gathered around the bar chatting up the bartender, who was not interested.
George leaned forward, his tall frame bent slightly over his pint, his blonde curls falling messily over his forehead.
“Look man I’m just saying that some of these kids are going places,” he said, his blue eyes gleaming with pride. George was an English teacher for a school in North London and dedicated his whole life to it.
Alex, sitting across from him, leaned back in his seat, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. His neat black hair was still perfectly styled, even in the dim pub lighting, and he raised an eyebrow, teasing as always. “You say that about all your students,” he replied, his tone playful but affectionate.
George scoffed, sitting up straighter, his hand instinctively gesturing as if he were still in the classroom, making a point. “And I’m never wrong. You remember Jennifer? That girl who won the poetry competition a few years ago? She just got a job at Penguin!”
“Penguin?” Lando, sitting next to Alex, looked confused, his dark brown curls as messy as they had been since earlier that week. He had his elbow on the table, supporting his chin lazily.
“The publishing company? You know?” George looked between them, incredulous that Lando didn’t know what he was talking about.
Lando shook his head, grinning sheepishly. “I’ve never heard of them.”
Alex rolled his eyes, his usual sharp wit kicking in as he leaned toward Lando, his arms crossed over his chest. “Of course you haven’t. You don’t know how to read,”
“Hey that’s offensive to dyslexics!” Lando gasped, but he broke out in a grin.
“Not all dyslexics. Just you,” Alex quipped, his smirk only growing.
The group chuckled, but George, still eager to talk about his students, leaned in again, his voice softening. “You don’t get it though, guys. There’s nothing more rewarding than getting emails from former students. Just reminds me that I’m doing a good job, you know?”
Lando, who had been staring at the foam in his beer glass, glanced up. “They should pay you more, though,” he said, the seriousness of his tone a stark contrast to his earlier jokes. George’s pay was almost offensive, given what he did for those students. Lando had watched him near eviction several times as he tried his best to budget for a tiny London flat. But unfortunately, his friend would not ever take his money. He called it ‘handouts’ and he had been taught to never rely on other people. It would have been admirable, if it wasn’t for the unnecessary sacrifices he was always making.
“I’m happy with what I earn. I’d rather be poor and happy than rich and miserable.” George shrugged, his expression softening.
Alex raised his eyebrows, a mischievous look flashing in his eyes. “Damn, shots fired,” he teased, glancing toward Lando with a smirk.
Lando shifted uncomfortably, rubbing the back of his neck, his messy hair falling over his forehead. He quickly glanced over at the bar. To all those lonely patrons trying their best to make conversation with the barmaid. He was nothing like them. “I’m not miserable. It’s just been a stressful couple of weeks. I’m fine, guys, honestly.”
George leaned back, arms crossed, his expression turning sceptical. “Is that why you’re on your fourth beer while we’re still nursing our second?”
Lando blushed slightly, looking away. George had got him there. He hadn’t even realised how quickly he had downed the first two. “It’s fine. I just wanted to have a drink with friends, you know?” He lied.
Alex, leaning forward now, his gaze softening, placed a hand gently on Lando’s shoulder. “Lando, it’s ok to ask for help. You’ve got hundreds of employees, including Max and Daniel. They know what they’re doing.”
Lando nervously chuckled but his slumped shoulders betrayed his fake laughter. “Damn, guys, is this an intervention? I just wanted to have a drink with friends.”
George chuckled, raising his pint in a gesture of surrender. “You’re right. We’re sorry. Let’s just forget about it for now. Alex! Tell us how your date yesterday went?” George asked, turning the spotlight away from Lando and onto Alex, who immediately blushed.
The three laughed, the tension dissipating as they returned to their drinks.