Chapter Text
24th February, 2024
The next morning should have been peaceful. It was not. Lewis knew this approximately twelve seconds after waking up when his phone started vibrating violently against the bedside table.
Then again. Then continuously. Beside him, Leo lifted his head sleepily from the pile of blankets at Lewis’s side and gave a tiny yawn.
Lewis squinted at the screen.
57 unread messages.
He closed his eyes again. Absolutely not. Unfortunately, the messages kept coming.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
George Russell:
Good morning to everyone except Charles
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Charles Leclerc:
I did nothing wrong
Oscar Piastri:
Objectively false
Alex Albon:
Did Charles actually stay there last night
Max Verstappen:
Unfortunately yes.
Pierre Gasly:
NO WAY
Carlos Sainz Jr:
I woke up and he was STILL THERE
Charles Leclerc:
Leo needed emotional support
Lewis Hamilton:
Leo was asleep.
Charles Leclerc:
Exactly.
He could have woken up emotionally distressed.
Lando Norris:
This is insane 😭
George Russell:
Lewis blink twice if you need assistance
Lewis stared at the chat for a long moment before dropping the phone back onto the bed.
“Too early for this,” he muttered.
Leo barked softly in agreement. A second later, another message appeared privately.
Private Chat: George Russell and Lewis Hamilton
George:
Are you alive?
Lewis:
Barely
George:
Lando is trying to organize “custody schedules” now
Lewis:
I’m deleting the group.
George:
You can’t.
Oscar made a spreadsheet.
Lewis:
He did WHAT
George:
I’ll send it.
George sent Leo_Custody_Rotation_v3_FINALfinal2.xlsx
Lewis stared at it in horror. Leo licked his hand and wagged his tail proudly.
*****
By midday, the paddock hotel had somehow become worse.
The Bahrain GP was in the coming week, which meant every driver had officially entered the dangerous pre-season to 1st race state of having too much free time. Lewis had reached his limit around the fourth argument of the morning.
“No, because clearly I’m the favourite,” Lando insisted dramatically while walking beside Lewis through the hotel lobby.
“That is statistically inaccurate,” George replied immediately.
Oscar looked offended. “He literally removed half my punishment yesterday. That indicates emotional attachment.”
Charles scoffed loudly from Lewis’s other side while Lewis held Leo as Charles was unable to move far from his beloved pup. “Please. I am obviously the favourite child.”
“You are the problem child,” Oscar corrected while carrying coffee.
“I hate all of you equally,” Lewis informed them calmly.
“No you don’t,” Lando said instantly.
“Yes I do.”
“No,” George disagreed thoughtfully. “I think there’s a ranking.”
“There is not.”
“There definitely is,” Oscar added.
Charles narrowed his eyes at George. “Actually, you’re least favorite.”
George looked personally attacked. “Based on what?”
“Vibes.”
“That is not evidence.”
“It is to me.”
The argument somehow escalated immediately. Lewis didn’t even know how.
One second George was defending himself with “telemetry-level logic,” the next Lando was accusing Oscar of “emotional manipulation through spreadsheets,” while Charles insisted that Lewis liked him since Leo clearly preferred him.
Lewis stopped walking. No one noticed.
For one beautiful moment, he simply watched them continue arguing down the hallway without realizing he was gone. Before they could notice, he smoothly pivoted in the opposite direction and disappeared down another corridor and escaped taking Leo with him while they continued arguing not noticing that Lewis had successfully disappeared.
****
The hotel’s private restaurant was blissfully quiet.
Hidden away near the gardens and mostly used for private dinners, it was currently empty except for a few staff members preparing tables for the evening.
Lewis sat back in a chair in a long booth with an attached small indoor garden holding a cup of tea, while a plate of vegan pastries and fruit were in front of him, and enjoyed the silence. Leo sprinted happily around the attached small garden section, chasing absolutely nothing with full commitment. Lewis watched him fondly over the rim of his teacup.
“This,” he murmured to himself, “is peace.”
“Interesting definition.”
Lewis looked up.
Alex Albon stood there holding an iced coffee, Pierre Gasly beside him, Esteban Ocon behind them, and Logan Sargeant looking vaguely traumatized already.
Pierre blinked. “How have you disappeared?”
Lewis pointed vaguely toward the direction of the hotel lobby. “They were arguing again.”
Alex nodded immediately. “Reasonable escape.”
“Can we join?” Logan asked hopefully. “Lando and George have started making PowerPoint slides now.”
Lewis stared.
“…they what?”
Esteban sat down immediately. “George titled his one ‘Performance Metrics Supporting Favourite Child Status.’”
Pierre dropped into the chair opposite Lewis. “Lando retaliated with a meme presentation.”
Alex looked deeply tired. “Oscar is moderating like it’s a legal hearing.”
Lewis looked genuinely horrified. Leo suddenly came sprinting back over before attempting to launch directly into Lewis’s lap. Lewis picked him automatically, one hand steadying the tiny dog as Leo curled up instantly against his chest.
Pierre pointed immediately. “Oh? Favouritism.”
“Oh my god,” Lewis muttered.
Alex grinned. “You do realize this is only encouraging Charles right?”
“I am aware.”
“You keep carrying him around like a divorced father during custody weekends.”
Lewis looked offended. “That is not what this is.”
Esteban nodded solemnly. “That’s exactly what this is.”
Logan sat down carefully. “At this point I’m honestly just impressed Charles hasn’t cried yet.”
Pierre snorted. “Charles came close earlier.”
“He did not.”
“He absolutely did,” Alex corrected. “You should’ve seen his face when Leo followed Lewis this morning.”
Lewis hid a smile behind his tea.
Unfortunately, peace lasted approximately four minutes. Because all of their phones buzzed simultaneously.
Everyone looked down. And collectively regretted it.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
George Russell:
I have created a survey.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Oscar Piastri:
Please answer honestly.
Alex Albon:
No.
Charles Leclerc:
Where is Lewis?
Carlos Sainz Jr:
He escaped again didn’t he
Max Verstappen:
Good for him.
George Russell:
Question 1:
Who has received the most emotional support from Lewis historically?
Lewis Hamilton:
Delete this.
Oscar Piastri:
No.
Lando Norris:
I voted for myself
George Russell:
You cannot vote for yourself.
Lando Norris:
Watch me
Pierre looked up slowly. “This is getting concerning.”
Esteban nodded. “We’re witnessing collective psychological decline.”
Logan blinked at his screen. “Why is there a pie chart.”
Alex physically lowered his phone. “I don’t want to know.”
Lewis took a very long sip of tea. Then another. Then another.
Leo remained perfectly asleep in his lap occasionally curling as though demanding pets in his sleep
Pierre glanced at Lewis carefully. “So… who actually is your favourite?”
Lewis looked at him blankly.
“No one.”
Every single one of them stared at him in silence.
Alex finally spoke. “That was the least believable thing you’ve ever said.”
Lewis sighed heavily.
“I’m going back to bed.”
“You can’t,” Pierre said immediately. “Charles will find you.”
“George too,” Esteban added.
“Oscar somehow has your schedule,” Logan contributed nervously.
Alex nodded sympathetically. “You’re basically a single father of six now.”
Lewis looked down at Leo who had woken up again and was looking at him happily. He exhaled slowly before making the mistake of glancing at the group chat again. Immediately, he regretted it.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
George Russell:
We need objective criteria.
Lando Norris:
No we don’t
Oscar Piastri:
Actually we do.
Otherwise the data becomes unreliable.
Charles Leclerc:
I don’t need data.
I have emotional connection.
George Russell:
That sentence alone disqualifies you.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Oscar Piastri:
Current evidence:
- Lewis lifted part of my tim tam ban
- George gets mentoring privileges
- Lando gets emotional support texts
- Charles somehow got sleepover rights
Charles Leclerc:
Exactly.
Thank you Oscar.
Oscar Piastri:
This was not supportive evidence.
George Russell:
Lewis literally confiscated your dog.
Charles Leclerc:
Temporary misunderstanding.
Lando Norris:
Mate he stole your child 😭
Lewis Hamilton:
I hate all of you equally.
George Russell:
Avoiding the question is very telling.
Oscar Piastri:
Interesting response pattern.
Charles Leclerc:
He did not deny I’m favourite 🙂
Lewis locked his phone without responding. Absolutely not. Across from him, however, another discussion toping had emerged. Alex was in the middle of passionately waving his fork around like he was presenting a championship strategy briefing.
“I’m telling you,” Alex declared firmly, “Thai food is unbeatable. Objectively. Balance, flavor, spice, texture—everything.”
Pierre looked scandalized. “Objectively? You cannot use objectively for food.”
“You can when I’m correct.”
Esteban sat straighter immediately. “French cuisine is literally world famous.”
Alex scoffed dramatically. “Because French people decided it was.”
Pierre gasped. “That is offensive.”
“It’s true!”
Meanwhile, Logan, who was sitting beside Lewis, was completely unbothered and was peacefully eating fries and occasionally stealing fruit from Lewis’s plate while the others argued around him.
“This is nice,” Logan said quietly.
Lewis looked at him with genuine gratitude. “Finally. A calm person.”
Logan nodded. “I stopped understanding this conversation ten minutes ago.”
“That makes two of us.”
Pierre pointed accusingly at Alex. “Thai food cannot beat proper French cooking.”
Alex immediately leaned forward. “Thai green curry clears half your cuisine.”
Esteban looked personally wounded. “Half?”
“Yes.”
Pierre pressed a hand dramatically against his chest. “You are attacking my culture.”
“You attacked mine first!”
Lewis took another sip of tea while Leo sat happily across in his lap like this was a normal afternoon. It was not a normal afternoon.
Because two minutes later, Yuki Tsunoda walked into the restaurant with Zhou Guanyu beside him—and instantly noticed the debate.
“What’s happening?” Yuki asked suspiciously.
“Alex is disrespecting France,” Pierre informed him immediately.
“I am defending Thailand,” Alex corrected.
Yuki sat down without invitation. “Japanese food wins.”
“See?” Alex pointed. “Asian food wins anyday.”
Zhou slid into the booth beside Logan. “Yes and in that Chinese cuisine wins easily.”
Esteban looked horrified. “Why is everyone against France?”
“Because you’re wrong,” Yuki replied bluntly.
Pierre looked at Lewis. “Say something.”
Lewis blinked slowly. “I am not involving myself in this.”
Logan quietly reached for another snack while chaos escalated around him. Within minutes, the table had fully descended into competitive culinary warfare.
“Thai food has range,” Alex insisted.
“Japanese food has discipline,” Yuki shot back.
“French cuisine has sophistication,” Esteban argued.
Zhou shook his head calmly. “Chinese food has literally thousands of years of culinary history.”
Pierre pointed triumphantly. “Exactly! History matters!”
Alex threw his hands up. “And how does that matter?”
“Because France is superior.”
“It absolutely is not!”
Lewis watched all of them argue over one another while Leo snored peacefully against his hoodie having fallen asleep again.
Honestly, this was somehow still less exhausting than the favourite-child debate.
Unfortunately, his phone buzzed again. And again. And again. Lewis sighed deeply before checking it.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
George Russell:
I have created a ranking system.
Lando Norris:
Nobody asked for that 😭
Oscar Piastri:
Actually I did.
Charles Leclerc:
This feels biased already.
George Russell:
Criteria include:
- Mentoring time
- Emotional support
- Frequency of hugs
- Dog custody access
- Hydration reminders
Max Verstappen:
Hydration reminders are psychological warfare.
Lewis Hamilton:
Drink water.
Max Verstappen:
No.
Oscar Piastri:
Interesting.
Lewis only tells certain people to hydrate.
This indicates care.
George Russell:
Strong point.
Lando Norris:
Wait yeah 😭
Charles Leclerc:
He tells me too.
Max Verstappen:
Unfortunately true.
Oscar Piastri:
Data updated.
Lewis stared at the screen in disbelief.
“They’re making spreadsheets again,” he muttered.
Across the table, Yuki looked up immediately. “Why?”
“I don’t know anymore.”
Pierre leaned over curiously. “Still fighting over favourite child status?”
“Yes.”
Alex burst out laughing. “Oh my god, they’re still going?”
“George apparently made ranking criteria.”
Esteban nodded thoughtfully. “That feels very George.”
“Max contributed hydration trauma,” Lewis added tiredly.
Yuki looked deeply entertained now. “Can I join the chat.”
“No,” Lewis answered immediately.
Too late.
Yuki had already opened his phone. Thirty seconds later—
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Yuki Tsunoda:
Lewis likes me because I yell at engineers.
George Russell:
That is not a category.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Charles Leclerc:
Why are more people joining this discussion
Oscar Piastri:
Additional sample size improves accuracy.
Max Verstappen:
No it doesn’t.
Yuki Tsunoda:
I have never made a powerpoint against Lewis.
This is loyalty.
Oscar Piastri:
Fair point.
George Russell:
Actually that improves your ranking considerably.
Charles Leclerc:
WHAT RANKING
Lewis physically put his phone face-down on the table.
“No,” he said aloud. “I’m done.”
Alex grinned immediately. “They found another victim?”
“Yes.”
Pierre laughed into his coffee. “This is the funniest thing that’s happened all pre-season.”
“It’s not funny when you’re living through it.”
Logan finally looked up from his snacks. “Could be worse.”
Lewis narrowed his eyes. “How.”
Logan thought about it carefully.
“…they could make a presentation and show it to you in person?”
The entire table went silent. Lewis looked genuinely alarmed. Then his phone buzzed again. He saw the message appearing from his locked screen
Oscar Piastri:
I think we should hold formal interviews.
Lewis closed his eyes immediately.
“Oh no.”
Lewis should have known the silence from the group chat was suspicious.
It had been nearly three whole minutes.
Far too peaceful.
Then his phone buzzed again.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
I have drafted interview questions.
Lewis Hamilton:
No.
George Russell:
Actually this could help.
Lando Norris:
PLEASE SHARE THEM 😭
Charles Leclerc:
Why are we turning this into a job application
Oscar Piastri:
Question 1:
“Describe your emotional connection with Lewis Hamilton in 500 words.”
Max Verstappen:
I’m leaving this chat.
George Russell:
That word count seems excessive.
Lando Norris:
No no let him cook 😭
Charles Leclerc:
I can do 1000 words.
Lewis Hamilton:
You are all insane.
Oscar Piastri:
Question 2:
“Explain why you deserve favourite child status over the other candidates.”
Yuki Tsunoda:
Easy.
I’m funny.
George Russell:
That’s not enough evidence.
Yuki Tsunoda:
You made a spreadsheet.
You can’t judge me.
Lewis locked his phone again before his blood pressure could rise any further. Across the table, the culinary war had somehow become more intense.
“That’s because French cuisine is refined,” Esteban insisted for approximately the sixth time.
Alex looked horrified. “Refined does not automatically mean better.”
Pierre pointed dramatically. “It does when you have taste.”
Yuki scoffed loudly. “French food is just tiny portions with expensive sauces.”
Pierre gasped like he’d been shot, “You wound me.”
Zhou, calm as ever, sipped his tea. “Chinese cuisine has balance. Variety. Technique.”
Alex immediately pointed at him. “Exactly!”
Esteban and Pierre looked betrayed. “Why is everyone teaming up against France?”
“Because you keep talking like a food documentary narrator,” Yuki replied.
Logan nearly choked on his fries laughing.
Beside Lewis, Leo finally woke up from his nap again, blinking sleepily before immediately trying to climb out of Lewis’s lap.
“Nope,” Lewis murmured softly.
Tiny paws instantly attempted escape anyway. Lewis caught him gently before Leo could launch himself directly into the middle of the debate.
“You are not contributing to the chaos,” Lewis informed the puppy seriously.
Leo looked deeply offended. Lewis scratched slowly behind his ears and Leo immediately melted back against his chest, abandoning his escape mission in favour of attention.
“There we go,” Lewis murmured.
Logan watched the whole thing with quiet amusement. “He listens to you way more than Charles.”
Lewis smirked faintly. “Don’t let Charles hear that.”
Too late. Because at that exact moment, Charles sent another message.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Charles Leclerc:
Has anyone seen Leo
Max Verstappen:
You mean Lewis’s dog?
Charles Leclerc:
He is NOT Lewis’s dog
George Russell:
Shared custody arrangement.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Oscar Piastri:
Joint parental responsibilities.
Charles Leclerc:
STOP MAKING IT SOUND LIKE THAT
Lewis Hamilton:
Then stop acting like that.
There was a full thirty seconds of silence in the chat.
Then—
Lando Norris:
OH MY GOD 😭😭😭😭
George Russell:
That was brutal.
Oscar Piastri:
Historic response.
Max Verstappen:
Even I felt that one.
Charles Leclerc:
Lewis.
Lewis smiled smugly into his tea.
Alex noticed immediately. “You finally fought back?”
“A little.”
“Good. They deserve it.”
Leo had fully settled now, curled up comfortably against Lewis while watching the others argue with surprising attentiveness, tiny ears twitching every time someone raised their voice.
“He’s judging all of you,” Logan observed.
“Fair,” Zhou admitted.
The restaurant doors suddenly opened again.
Carlos walked in halfway through saying something on his phone before stopping completely at the sight of all of them gathered together.
“…what is going on here? Why are you guys here?”
“No one knows anymore,” Lewis answered calmly.
Carlos spotted Leo immediately. “Ah. The child.”
Leo wagged his tail happily.
Carlos walked over and slid into the empty seat beside Alex. “What’s the argument now?”
“Best cuisine,” Pierre said immediately.
Carlos blinked once.
Then leaned back confidently.
“Spanish food wins.”
The entire table erupted instantly.
“Oh COME ON—” Alex started.
“Absolutely not,” Esteban argued.
Yuki pointed accusingly. “Biased.”
Carlos looked offended. “Excuse me? Have you had proper paella?”
“Yes,” Alex replied. “Still not better than Thai food.”
Carlos placed a hand dramatically against his chest. “That is criminal.”
Pierre immediately switched sides. “Actually… Spain does have good food.”
Esteban turned toward him slowly. “Traitor.”
“I’m being objective.”
“You called French cuisine superior ten minutes ago!”
“It still is,” Pierre defended quickly, “but Spain deserves respect.”
Carlos nodded approvingly. “Thank you.”
Alex looked at Lewis helplessly. “Why are they all becoming food nationalists?”
Lewis took another calm sip of tea.
“I stopped questioning things yesterday.”
Honestly, he was starting to enjoy this.
Watching all of them passionately argue over food while Leo remained peacefully curled against him was strangely entertaining. The debate had now evolved into everyone talking over each other simultaneously.
“Thai food has better flavour balance—”
“French cooking techniques literally shaped modern cuisine—”
“Spanish tapas culture alone clears—”
“Japanese precision—”
“Chinese regional diversity—”
“NONE OF YOU UNDERSTAND TEXTURE—” Yuki yelled.
Logan quietly reached for another pastry.
“This is great,” he whispered to Lewis.
Lewis actually laughed softly this time.
“Yes,” he admitted while petting Leo absentmindedly, “it kind of is.”
Then his phone buzzed again.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
I have made interview time slots.
Lewis Hamilton:
Delete them.
George Russell:
Can we get prep time?
Lando Norris:
DO WE NEED REFERENCES 😭
Oscar Piastri:
Preferably yes.
Charles Leclerc:
I can get Sebastian Vettel.
The entire restaurant heard Lewis groan loudly.
Carlos blinked. “What happened now?”
Lewis lowered the phone slowly.
“…Sebastian has been brought up again into this.”
Alex physically dropped his head onto the table laughing.
“Oh no.”
Lewis stared at his phone in genuine disbelief.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
Strong reference choice.
George Russell:
That’s actually difficult to compete with.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭 NOT THE VETTEL REFERENCE LETTER
Max Verstappen:
This has gone too far.
Lewis typed immediately.
Lewis Hamilton:
No.
Charles Leclerc:
Why not
Lewis Hamilton:
Because Sebastian is retired and living peacefully somewhere.
You are not dragging him into this nonsense.
Charles Leclerc:
But he likes me.
Lewis Hamilton:
That is irrelevant.
Charles Leclerc:
You said he was my grid-parent.
Lewis Hamilton:
And now I regret that statement deeply.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭
Oscar Piastri:
Counterpoint:
Sebastian’s testimony could provide valuable historical context.
Lewis Hamilton:
Oscar.
Oscar Piastri:
Understood.
Three seconds later—
Oscar Piastri:
I still think it would help.
Lewis pinched the bridge of his nose while the restaurant around him descended further into culinary warfare. Charles, meanwhile, was absolutely not happy.
Charles Leclerc:
This is censorship.
George Russell:
Actually I support Lewis here.
Charles Leclerc:
Traitor.
Max Verstappen:
No, this is one of the few reasonable things Lewis has done.
Lewis blinked slowly at that.
Lewis Hamilton:
Excuse me?
Max Verstappen:
You heard me.
Lewis locked the phone before the conversation could somehow become worse.
Unfortunately, the food debate had evolved into diagrams.
Actual diagrams.
Alex had grabbed napkins and was apparently illustrating “flavor layering principles” while Pierre looked seconds away from filing a diplomatic complaint.
“You cannot compare street food culture to fine dining,” Pierre argued passionately.
“Watch me,” Alex shot back immediately.
Carlos leaned over the table dramatically. “Spanish food has versatility. Tapas alone beat half your arguments.”
Esteban pointed at him. “You are only saying that because you are Spanish.”
“Yes,” Carlos replied calmly. “And correct.”
Yuki looked personally offended now. “None of you understand ramen.”
“I understand ramen,” Logan offered quietly.
Yuki immediately pointed at him. “Thank you. Finally, someone intelligent.”
Logan blinked. “I just said I liked noodles.”
Zhou had somehow started calmly explaining regional Chinese cuisine while everyone else loudly interrupted one another every seven seconds.
Through all of this, Lewis remained peacefully seated with Leo curled in his lap like a tiny emotional support heater. The puppy looked deeply content, occasionally lifting his head whenever someone got too loud before settling again when Lewis scratched behind his ears.
Honestly, Lewis was beginning to feel detached from reality.
His phone buzzed again. He ignored it. Immediately, someone else’s phone buzzed.
Then everyone’s.
Pierre looked down first and started laughing immediately.
“Oh no.”
Alex narrowed his eyes. “What now?”
Pierre turned his screen around.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
I have designed a presentation rubric.
Lewis Hamilton:
DELETE IT.
George Russell:
Actually this is very comprehensive.
Lando Norris:
WHY IS THERE A GRAPH 😭
Charles Leclerc:
I should receive bonus points for emotional resilience.
Max Verstappen:
No one knows what that means.
Oscar Piastri:
Categories include:
- Loyalty
- Emotional support compatibility
- Dog handling ability
- Chaos caused
- Hydration compliance
Max Verstappen:
That last category is targeted harassment.
Lewis finally laughed despite himself.
“That one’s on you,” Alex informed him.
“Apparently.”
Before Lewis could say anything else, the restaurant doors opened again.
Sergio Perez walked in mid-scroll on his phone before stopping abruptly at the sight in front of him.
“…what is happening here?”
Every single person started talking at once.
“French cuisine—”
“No Thai food—”
“Spanish food clears—”
“Ramen—”
“Chinese regional diversity—”
Checo blinked slowly.
Then looked directly at Lewis sitting calmly in the middle of all of it with a dog in his lap.
“…you seem weirdly comfortable.”
Lewis lifted his tea. “I’ve accepted my fate.”
Checo walked over cautiously like he was approaching wild animals.
Leo spotted him and lifted his head happily.
“At least someone’s normal,” Checo muttered fondly before sitting beside Lewis.
Immediately, the debate got louder again.
“Your argument makes no sense—”
“You’ve never had proper paella—”
“You cannot dismiss French sauces—”
“Texture matters!”
Checo stared at them for a full ten seconds.
Then leaned slightly toward Lewis whispering “How long has this been going on?”
“Honestly?” Lewis replied calmly. “I’ve lost track.”
Logan nodded beside them. “I think Alex started it.”
“I defended myself,” Alex argued instantly from across the table.
“You attacked France,” Pierre corrected.
“I attacked your superiority complex.”
Checo looked between all of them before slowly reaching for one of the snacks on the table.
“…I’m not getting involved.”
“Smart,” Lewis said immediately.
Checo settled back in his chair beside Lewis while Leo stretched slightly before climbing halfway onto Checo’s arm for approximately three seconds, demanding attention, before immediately returning to Lewis’s lap. Checo looked betrayed.
“I got used.”
Lewis smirked faintly. “Welcome to the club.”
Now the three of them—Lewis, Logan, and Checo—sat quietly watching the absolute chaos unfold around them like spectators at a sporting event.
It was strangely peaceful from this side.
“You know,” Checo said after a while, watching Yuki passionately defend Japanese curry like national honour depended on it, “this actually explains the group chat energy.”
Lewis groaned quietly. “Don’t remind me.”
Too late.
His phone buzzed again.
Checo glanced over curiously.
“…are they still arguing about favourite child status?”
Lewis handed him the phone without a word.
Checo read silently for several seconds. Then started laughing so hard he nearly dropped it.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
George Russell:
I think we should hold live debates.
Lando Norris:
LIKE PRESIDENTIAL CAMPAIGNS 😭
Oscar Piastri:
Excellent idea.
Charles Leclerc:
I want opening statements.
Max Verstappen:
I hate all of you.
Yuki Tsunoda:
I think I should win automatically because I’m shorter and therefore more emotionally cute.
There was a long pause.
Then—
Lewis Hamilton:
What does that even mean
Yuki Tsunoda:
I don’t know.
But it sounded right.
Checo physically wheezed laughing beside him watching Yuki type furiously in the chat before re-entering in the culinary debate. Lewis leaned back in his chair, Leo sitting happily in his lap while absolute nonsense unfolded both in front of him and on his phone.
Honestly?
At this point, he was just impressed by the commitment.
The restaurant had somehow become louder. Lewis genuinely did not understand how.
One minute it had been a somewhat controlled debate about culinary traditions. Now Alex and Esteban were arguing about sauce philosophy while Yuki loudly accused French cuisine of “trying too hard.”
“Food should not need architecture,” Yuki declared firmly.
Pierre looked deeply offended. “That sentence alone should ban you from Paris.”
Carlos pointed dramatically across the table. “Spanish food is for happiness. Community. Joy.”
“Thai food literally invented flavor balance,” Alex shot back.
“That is not historically accurate,” Zhou replied calmly.
Esteban looked one argument away from emotional collapse. “Why is nobody respecting French technique?”
Meanwhile, Lewis sat safely outside the blast radius with Logan and Checo beside him.
Leo was stretched comfortably across Lewis’s lap now, fully relaxed beneath the steady rhythm of Lewis absentmindedly petting behind his ears.
Every so often, Leo would tilt his head upward for more attention, and Lewis would automatically scratch under his chin without even pausing his tea.
“You’ve bonded frighteningly fast,” Checo observed quietly.
Lewis glanced down at the puppy. “He’s manipulative.”
Leo wagged his tail proudly.
Logan snorted softly. “He learned from Charles.”
“That explains everything,” Lewis replied.
Then the restaurant doors opened again. Daniel Ricciardo walked in first, sunglasses perched on his head despite being indoors, with Valtteri Bottas following behind carrying what looked suspiciously like three pastries.
Daniel stopped walking almost immediately.
“…why is half the grid here?”
Nobody answered because they were still yelling about food.
Valtteri blinked once slowly. “Ah,” he said calmly. “One of those days.”
Daniel walked closer, listening for approximately five seconds before immediately pointing at Alex.
“No no no. Australian food clears all of you.”
The entire table turned on him instantly.
“What Australian food?” Pierre demanded dramatically.
Daniel looked scandalized. “Excuse me? Meat pies. Barbecue. Lamingtons. Chicken parm.”
Yuki narrowed his eyes. “That is just snacks.”
“That is CULTURE.”
Carlos buried his face in his hands. “Not another one.”
Valtteri, meanwhile, wisely avoided the debate entirely.
Instead, he calmly pulled up a chair between Lewis and Checo like a man entering a peaceful retirement village instead of a paddock-related disaster zone.
“You look comfortable,” Checo observed.
“I make good decisions,” Valtteri replied simply.
Leo immediately noticed him.
The puppy lifted his head, blinked, then stretched toward Valtteri for attention.
Valtteri accepted this responsibility without hesitation.
“There you are,” he murmured, gently scratching behind Leo’s ears while the puppy practically melted against Lewis’s lap.
Lewis smiled faintly watching Leo lean happily into both their hands at once.
“He’s collecting supporters,” Checo observed.
“Strategic networking,” Valtteri agreed.
Across the table, Daniel had already fully committed himself to the debate.
“You people are underestimating Australian barbecue.”
Alex looked unconvinced. “I’m still taking Thai food.”
Daniel pointed accusingly. “You’re biased.”
“Yes,” Alex replied calmly. “And correct.”
Pierre groaned dramatically. “I am surrounded by uncultured people.”
Yuki immediately pointed at him. “French people always say that.”
“Because it keeps being true!”
Lewis watched all of this unfold with increasing amusement while Leo happily soaked up the attention from both him and Valtteri.
The puppy had now fully sprawled sideways across Lewis’s lap, one tiny paw dangling over Valtteri’s leg while both of them absentmindedly petted him.
“This,” Valtteri said thoughtfully, “is significantly more peaceful than the group chat.”
Lewis physically groaned.
“Don’t remind me.”
Too late. Because his phone buzzed again. And again. And again.
Checo leaned over slightly. “Still happening?”
Lewis handed over the phone wordlessly.
Checo started reading. Then immediately lost composure.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
I have scheduled debate rounds.
Lewis Hamilton:
No you haven’t.
Oscar Piastri:
I already made brackets.
George Russell:
I think opening statements should be timed.
Lando Norris:
😭😭😭 WHY IS THIS BECOMING AN ESPORTS TOURNAMENT
Charles Leclerc:
I want visual aids.
Max Verstappen:
I’m begging you all to stop.
Yuki Tsunoda:
I should get bonus points for emotional cuteness.
Daniel Ricciardo:
What does that even mean mate
Yuki Tsunoda:
I don’t know anymore.
Oscar Piastri:
I have added “emotional cuteness” as a category.
Lewis Hamilton:
OSCAR.
George Russell:
Actually that’s difficult to quantify.
Charles Leclerc:
I think I score highly there.
Max Verstappen:
None of you know what you’re talking about.
Lewis took the phone back slowly.
“I’m deleting all of them.”
“You won’t,” Valtteri replied calmly while still petting Leo.
“Because you secretly enjoy it,” Checo added.
Lewis looked personally offended. “I absolutely do not.”
At that exact moment—
Leo rolled over fully onto his back across Lewis’s lap demanding stomach rubs from both Lewis and Valtteri simultaneously.
Valtteri looked delighted. “He trusts you.”
Lewis softened immediately, one of his hands moving automatically to rub Leo’s stomach while the puppy looked impossibly pleased with himself.
“…okay maybe today is not entirely terrible.”
Checo smirked knowingly.
Across the restaurant, the debate somehow got even louder.
“YOU CANNOT RANK CROISSANTS ABOVE DUMPLINGS—”
“WATCH ME.”
Daniel looked like he was having the time of his life.
Lewis leaned back in his chair, warm tea beside him, Leo happily sprawled across his lap while Valtteri scratched behind the puppy’s ears and absolute chaos unfolded around them.
Honestly?
This was probably the calmest he’d felt all week.
Lewis had reached his limit. Again.
His phone buzzed six times in under ten seconds while around him the restaurant had devolved into Daniel passionately explaining why “a proper Aussie barbecue fixes emotional problems.”
Lewis unlocked his phone with the exhausted determination of a man about to restore order through force.
F1 2024 Grid Group Chat
Oscar Piastri:
I have finalized the debate structure.
George Russell:
I think scoring should be anonymous.
Lando Norris:
WHY IS THERE A PLAYOFF BRACKET 😭
Charles Leclerc:
I deserve a first-round bye.
Max Verstappen:
I’m muting this chat.
Oscar Piastri:
Round 1:
George vs Lando
George Russell:
Excellent.
Lando Norris:
WHY AM I FIGHTING GEORGE RIGHT AWAY??!! 😭
Lewis typed immediately.
Lewis Hamilton:
No debates.
No presentations.
No interviews.
No spreadsheets.
No references.
No rankings.
This discussion is over.
There was silence.
Then—
Oscar Piastri:
Counterpoint—
Lewis Hamilton:
Oscar.
Oscar Piastri:
Understood.
A pause.
Then—
Lando Norris:
He used the disappointed dad tone 😭
George Russell:
Conversation terminated.
Charles Leclerc:
This is unfair governance.
Max Verstappen:
Finally.
Lewis exited the chat before anyone else could respond.
Then he put the phone face-down on the table with the finality of someone sealing away evil forever.
Checo noticed immediately. “You finally snapped?”
“Yes.”
Valtteri nodded approvingly while still scratching Leo’s stomach. “Healthy boundaries.”
Leo looked deeply relaxed now, stretched entirely across Lewis’s lap while simultaneously demanding attention from Valtteri with one paw. The restaurant doors opened again before Lewis could enjoy the peace.
Fernando Alonso walked in first with Lance Stroll beside him, Nico Hülkenberg and Kevin Magnussen following close behind. All four stopped dead at the sight before them.
“…what happened here?” Nico asked slowly.
The table exploded immediately.
“French cuisine—”
“No Spanish food—”
“Thai food—”
“Chinese dumplings—”
“YOU PEOPLE DON’T UNDERSTAND FLAVOR—” Yuki yelled.
Kevin blinked once. “Ah.”
Fernando listened carefully for approximately five seconds before confidently declaring:
“Spanish cuisine wins.”
Carlos looked like Christmas had arrived early.
“THANK YOU.”
Alex pointed accusingly. “That is blatant bias.”
Fernando shrugged calmly. “No. Just intelligence.”
Pierre groaned loudly. “Not another Spanish supporter.”
Daniel looked betrayed. “Nobody’s respecting Australia.”
“You put beetroot on burgers,” Yuki replied flatly.
“That’s CULTURE.”
Lance, meanwhile, had wandered directly toward Lewis’s table without contributing to the debate whatsoever.
He sat down casually between Logan and Lewis, reached toward the desserts sitting in front of him, and stole one of the small pastries with zero hesitation.
Lewis looked at him slowly.
“…you could’ve asked.”
Lance took a bite calmly. “You weren’t eating it.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It is now.”
Checo snorted loudly beside them.
Valtteri looked deeply entertained. “Efficient.”
Leo lifted his head at the movement, spotted Lance eating dessert, and immediately attempted to investigate.
“No,” Lewis said immediately, gently holding him back. “You are not eating sugar.”
Leo looked personally betrayed.
“Nice try though,” Lance told the puppy seriously before stealing another dessert.
Across from them, Nico and Kevin had wisely chosen survival.
They pulled up chairs beside Logan instead.
“This seems like the safest area,” Nico observed.
Logan nodded while offering them snacks from the table. “We’re just watching.”
“Good strategy,” Kevin agreed immediately.
The three of them settled in like spectators at a live sporting event while the debate escalated again.
“French cuisine has technique—”
“Spanish food has soul—”
“Thai food has flavor complexity—”
“Chinese food has history—”
“Japanese food has precision—”
“Australian food has vibes!” Daniel argued.
Pierre physically buried his face in his hands.
“What does that even mean?”
Daniel pointed dramatically. “You either get it or you don’t.”
Fernando leaned back confidently beside Carlos. “Spain wins easily.”
Carlos looked emotional. “Thank you, Fernando.”
Alex shook his head in disbelief. “This is rigged.”
Yuki narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Too many Europeans.”
“Excuse me,” Zhou replied calmly, “you are also Asian representation here.”
“Yes,” Yuki answered immediately. “And we’re correct.”
Nico looked over at Lewis. “How long has this been happening?”
Lewis glanced around at the screaming food war surrounding him.
“…hours.”
Kevin blinked. “And nobody stopped it?”
Lewis looked down at Leo happily sprawled across his lap receiving affection from both him and Valtteri. Then at Lance stealing another dessert. Then at Logan quietly passing Nico fries while they watched the argument like it was Netflix. Then at Carlos and Fernando aggressively defending Spain together like national honour depended on it.
Honestly?
“…I think we’re past stopping it now.”
Valtteri nodded thoughtfully. “At this point we study it scientifically.”
Checo laughed quietly.
Across the room—
“AGAIN YOU CANNOT CALL CROISSANTS A FULL MEAL—”
“WATCH ME.”
Lewis leaned back in his chair, finally giving up entirely.
Maybe this was just his life now.
The cuisine war had somehow reached strategic levels.
Lewis no longer understood how food had become this serious.
“French cuisine has structure,” Pierre and Esteban both insisted for what felt like the fiftieth time.
“And tiny portions,” Yuki fired back instantly.
Carlos pointed dramatically across the table. “Spanish food is meant to be shared. It brings people together.”
Alex scoffed. “You literally started yelling five minutes ago.”
“That is passion.”
Fernando nodded solemnly beside him. “Correct.”
Daniel looked deeply invested now. “Australian barbecue would unite all of you.”
“No it wouldn’t,” Esteban replied immediately.
“Yes it would.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
Meanwhile, Lewis had fully detached from the debate emotionally.
He sat comfortably at the end of the table with Leo sprawled happily across his lap while Valtteri scratched behind the puppy’s ears and Checo rubbed his stomach occasionally whenever Leo demanded attention with tiny paws.
Lance was still quietly stealing desserts. Logan, Nico, and Kevin had committed fully to spectator mode and were now rating arguments like sports commentators.
“That was a strong point from Zhou,” Kevin observed while eating fries.
“Good recovery from Alex though,” Nico replied thoughtfully.
Logan nodded seriously. “Pierre’s losing composure.”
“He lost composure thirty minutes ago,” Checo muttered.
Leo meanwhile was thriving.
The puppy looked impossibly content receiving affection from approximately six different drivers simultaneously.
Every time someone stopped petting him, he simply rotated slightly toward another available hand like a tiny furry strategist.
“He’s figured out the system,” Valtteri observed calmly.
Lewis looked down as Leo stretched happily across his hoodie. “He absolutely has.”
The restaurant doors opened again. Oscar Piastri walked in first with George and Lando behind him. All three stopped instantly. Because nearly the entire grid was apparently packed into one private restaurant screaming about food.
Lando blinked slowly.
“…what the hell happened here?”
Nobody answered because Pierre had just loudly accused Daniel of “culinary delusion.”
George looked around like a substitute teacher entering a classroom seconds before disaster.
Oscar, however, looked delighted.
“Oh,” he said calmly. “A debate.”
Then immediately—
“Actually,” Oscar continued while pulling up a chair beside Daniel, “Australian meat pies are underrated.”
Daniel looked emotional instantly. “THANK YOU.”
Pierre looked horrified. “Not you too.”
Oscar shrugged. “I support evidence.”
Alex pointed accusingly. “You haven’t even contributed to the main argument yet.”
Oscar sat back thoughtfully. “Thai food has consistency. Japanese food has precision. French cuisine has influence. Spanish food has atmosphere.”
The table went quiet.
Oscar continued calmly.
“But Australian food has emotional value.”
Daniel looked like he might cry.
“Mate,” he whispered, deeply moved, “that was beautiful.”
Yuki looked suspicious. “What does emotional value mean.”
Oscar took a sip of someone else’s drink without hesitation. “I don’t know. But it sounded convincing.”
Lewis groaned quietly. “Not another one.”
Meanwhile, Lando had immediately identified the important area of the restaurant.
The snacks.
“Oh nice,” he said happily before standing behind Lewis to to grab snacks before leaning on Lewis “You guys have fries.”
“Best decision made all day,” Logan informed him.
Lando nodded while stealing three pastries in under ten seconds. “I’m not participating in the food war. I’m above this.”
“You’re literally eating everyone’s arguments,” Kevin pointed out.
“Correct.”
George, unfortunately, decided to intervene. He stood near the centre of the chaos with the energy of someone trying to organize kindergarteners during a sugar rush.
“Alright,” George began carefully, “we need structure.”
Every single driver ignored him immediately.
“Spanish cuisine—”
“THAI FOOD—”
“You people don’t understand ramen—”
“FRENCH TECHNIQUE MATTERS—”
George blinked.
“…okay.”
Lewis watched him fail with quiet amusement.
“Bold strategy,” Checo observed.
“He thinks he can control this,” Valtteri added calmly.
“Poor George,” Logan murmured.
Leo suddenly rolled fully onto his back in Lewis’s lap again demanding more stomach rubs from literally everyone nearby.
“Oh my god,” Lando said immediately, abandoning snacks to pet him. “I’m here Leo.”
Leo accepted this new attention happily.
Now Lewis, Valtteri, Checo, Lance, and Lando were all petting him at varying intervals while the puppy looked like he had achieved enlightenment.
“He’s living better than all of us,” Nico observed.
“True,” Kevin agreed.
Across the restaurant—
“YOU CANNOT BASE A CUISINE ON VIBES—”
“WATCH ME.”
George tried again.
“Maybe we should establish categories—”
“No,” Lewis interrupted immediately.
George looked personally betrayed. “I was trying to help.”
“You started ranking favourite-child statistics yesterday. Your organizational privileges are revoked.”
Lando burst out laughing so hard he nearly dropped a pastry.
Oscar nodded thoughtfully from the debate table. “Fair ruling.”
George sat down with the exhausted air of a defeated man.
“This entire grid is dysfunctional.”
Lewis looked around at the complete disaster surrounding him.
At Lando hoarding snacks. At George looking emotionally exhausted. At Oscar somehow becoming a professional debate moderator again. At the screaming cuisine debate while others calmly eating snacks or having a drink watching the debate. At Leo blissfully sprawled across his lap receiving affection from half the paddock.
Then Lewis smiled despite himself.
“…yeah,” he admitted quietly, “but they’re entertaining.”
At this point, the private restaurant no longer resembled a restaurant. It resembled a diplomatic summit seconds away from collapse. The debate had somehow evolved into historical culinary analysis.
Fernando and Carlos were still aggressively defending Spanish cuisine together now like national honour depended on it. Pierre and Esteban looked personally exhausted trying to defend French culinary prestige against half the grid. Alex had started comparing spice complexity. Yuki was yelling about ramen again. Oscar was somehow moderating while also contributing arguments. George had attempted structure twice and failed both times. Lando had eaten enough snacks to concern several nutritionists.
And through all of this, Lewis remained peacefully seated at the centre of the disaster with Leo sprawled luxuriously across his lap receiving endless affection.
The restaurant waiters, meanwhile, looked terrified.
One poor waiter approached the table carefully holding a tray before immediately freezing as six drivers started yelling over one another again.
“YOU CANNOT COMPARE TAPAS TO DIM SUM—”
“WATCH ME.”
“THAT’S NOT EVEN THE SAME CATEGORY—”
The waiter slowly backed away. Lewis almost felt bad for him. Almost.
Then the restaurant doors opened again.
Charles Leclerc walked in first. Max Verstappen followed behind him holding his phone and looking mildly annoyed at life in general.
Both stopped dead.
Because somehow the entire grid was already there.
“…what is this,” Max asked slowly.
“No one knows anymore,” Lewis replied calmly.
Charles immediately spotted Leo.
“My son,” he gasped dramatically.
Leo lifted his head excitedly.
Charles started walking over immediately—
—but Pierre grabbed his arm before he could reach Lewis.
“Charles,” Pierre said urgently, “tell them French cuisine is superior.”
Charles blinked.
Then looked around at the ongoing war.
Then immediately turned toward the debate table with full Ferrari driver intensity.
“Obviously French cuisine is best.”
Esteban looked emotional. “THANK YOU.”
Carlos groaned loudly. “Not another French defender.”
Alex pointed accusingly. “You’re biased.”
Charles looked offended. “No. I simply have taste.”
Fernando scoffed. “No, you don’t”
Within seconds Charles had fully abandoned his mission to retrieve Leo and was aggressively defending croissants like his championship depended on it.
Lewis watched this happen with quiet disbelief.
“He got distracted immediately,” Logan observed.
“Honestly impressive,” Kevin admitted.
Meanwhile, Max had approached the table carefully and picked up one of the menus. Then Lewis narrowed his eyes as Max spoke to one of the terrified waiters.
“…and six Red Bulls.”
The waiter looked nervous already. Lewis looked deeply unimpressed.
“Max.”
Max paused mid-order.
Slowly turned his head.
“…yes?”
“No.”
Max blinked innocently. “No what?”
“No six Red Bulls.”
“But they’re small cans.”
“No Six Red Bulls”
Max looked personally attacked. “I need energy.”
“You need water.”
The entire nearby section of the restaurant went silent immediately. Because everyone knew or had witnessed the hydration intervention from yesterday.
Checo physically leaned back in his chair already laughing.
Lando nearly inhaled a pastry.
George whispered, “Oh no.”
Max narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “You’re still on this?”
Lewis crossed his arms. “You had enough yesterday.”
“That was yesterday.”
“And now you want six.”
Max looked genuinely confused why this was a problem.
“It’s called commitment.”
“It’s called cardiac risk.”
Valtteri quietly whispered to Logan, “He used the dad voice again.”
Logan nodded solemnly. “Max is finished.”
Max tried one last defence.
“They help me focus.”
Lewis stared at him.
Max stared back.
The waiter looked trapped in psychological warfare.
Finally Max sighed dramatically.
“…fine. Four.”
Lewis continued staring.
“…two?”
“Water.”
Max looked betrayed by existence itself.
“This is oppression.”
Lando physically collapsed laughing into the table.
“YOU SOUND LIKE OSCAR.”
Oscar looked up immediately from the debate. “That’s fair actually.”
The waiter, sensing survival was possible again, fled immediately to process the order.
Leo meanwhile had fully rolled over across Lewis’s lap again, tiny paws in the air while Lance, Valtteri, Checo, and now Lando all took turns petting him.
The puppy looked impossibly pleased with himself.
“He’s manipulating everyone,” Nico observed.
“Yes,” Lewis replied calmly while scratching Leo’s stomach. “And succeeding.”
At that exact moment—
The restaurant doors opened again.
Fred Vasseur walked in first. James Vowles followed. Then Toto Wolff. All three stopped instantly. Fred blinked once. James looked deeply confused. Toto slowly removed his glasses.
From across the room—
“FRENCH CUISINE INVENTED MODERN DINING—”
“THAI FOOD INVENTED FLAVOR—”
“THAT DOESN’T EVEN MAKE SENSE—”
“YOU DON’T MAKE SENSE.”
Leo barked happily. Lando laughed so hard he fell sideways into Valtteri. Max looked personally offended at the water bottle in front of him. Lewis looked suspiciously relaxed in the middle of all of it.
Toto slowly stepped backward.
“No.”
James nodded immediately. “Absolutely not.”
Fred looked exhausted already. “I am not dealing with this.”
None of the drivers had noticed them yet. The three team principals silently turned around and walked right back out of the restaurant. The door closed. Inside, chaos continued uninterrupted.
Outside in the hallway—Toto immediately pulled out his phone.
F1 Team Principals Group Chat
Toto Wolff:
You know how we were discussing where the drivers were? Well, we found them.
Christian Horner:
Where?
Toto Wolff:
Private hotel restaurant.
Zak Brown:
Doing what?
There was a long pause.
Then—
Toto Wolff:
Arguing about cuisine rankings.
Andrea Stella:
…what
Fred Vasseur:
Charles is defending croissants like it’s a championship battle.
James Vowles:
Alex and Pierre are close to starting an actual international incident.
Ayao Komatsu:
Where are Lewis and Max in all this?
Toto Wolff:
Lewis is holding a dog while Max is glaring at a water bottle.
Christian Horner:
Again???
Toto Wolff:
Yes.
Andrea Stella:
Where is Oscar?
Toto Wolff:
Moderating somehow.
Zak Brown:
Of course he is.
Fred Vasseur:
Lando appears to be surviving entirely on pastries.
James Vowles:
Logan, Nico and Kevin are commentating like it’s a sport.
Christian Horner:
…should we intervene?
Toto:
No.
Fred:
Absolutely not.
James:
I value my sanity.
Christian:
Fair.
Inside the restaurant—
The debate was somehow still escalating. And Lewis, unbelievably, was starting to enjoy himself.