Samenzijn
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And now here he was, cold to the wrists, irritated past usefulness, and standing before a red bull that seemed to carry his name as though entrusted with it.
“Well, go on, say hello to Max, Max,” Lando called, delighted before the joke had even landed. There was an ease to Lando’s mischief, a lightness that made it difficult to object to and impossible to forgive.
“Lando,” Oscar said, dry but not unkind, though his eyes flicked briefly to Max before the warning settled into resignation.
The group laughed again. Max closed his eyes and drew a slow breath, shoulders stilling as the cold settled in his lungs and gave him something simpler to think about.
What's a winter retreat between co-workers but an opportunity for chaos and uncomfortable revelations?
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- Part 1 of Samenzijn
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Something was up with Oscar. Besides the obvious, obviously. It couldn’t be much fun going from championship frontrunner to having commentators pick apart his driving like they’d never missed an apex in their lives—all in the space of a few races. Brutal, really. But no. This was something else.
The championship fight has taken a turn, but Oscar seems oddly at peace lately. Lando is going to get to the bottom of why.
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- Part 2 of Samenzijn