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It's gotten to a stage where Lewis is considering taking the W14 apart and rebuilding it from its carbon fibre heel to the jeering halo. A legend of the sport, to be shunned by the FIA and receive an incredulous donkey on rubber hooves for 2 years in a row. Lewis' punishment should result in millennia of unbearably scorching blazes upon the corporate men upstairs. Alas, he will rise again.
…Just not today. Instead, he listens to Bono's mutterings on the radio: "...Perez has reported to have crashed into Turn 4. If you can push to the final lap, you will finish in P3."
Another podium. Wow. This is the best day of Lewis's life, for sure!
"I don't even know anymore, man. What's the point if I can't fight with them? Bono, I don't want to insult the team, but…"
"Yeah, I get it. We'll speak about it later."
Always later, never now.
"I can't believe this," Lewis mumbled to himself. 7 years of dominance, 2014–2021. Yeah, the first teammate won the championship one year, but… it was the era of Lewis Hamilton, which he intended to keep that way until retirement. Like, why is that old guy he got rid of in 2007 back? It can't get any worse.
Until he saw them. The Dutchie and Fernando. Chatting in the cool down room, about tyre degradation and bullshit. They're so close to each other they could share the excessive moisture built up from the sweltering cockpit. Lewis made sure to ignore the giggles and… friendly embraces between the two. It reminded him of an unnecessary nostalgia. Placing his helmet onto the 3rd Place pillar, he heard an obnoxious accent in his peripheral:
"Nice to be here again with you, Lewis! For old time's sake, no?"
Plastering a smile, "I'm not as old as you, yet, man! Good job, mate!" Lewis gripped his inked fingers onto Fernando's shoulder, then went further to spread his arm over his back. That way, he was able to whisper in his ear: "Win as much as you want! I'll celebrate every time you still have less than 103". A bit nasty, maybe, but Fernando needed to be humbled. For old time's sake. Of course, the Spaniard only chuckled. In fact, he returned the spite, "At least I can still win".
By then, Max had snuck off to the stairs that led to the podium balcony. Probably the best thing to do in that situation and it's not like he enjoys any sort of confrontation near him. It doesn't result in anything positive. Or did the two champions not realise how easy it was to listen in on them trading petty insults? Max assumed that they noticed the younger had left because they soon arrived in unison, both grinning from pierced to non-pierced ear. He didn't understand the two at all… and it's not like Nando mentioned Lewis ever during their conversations in the drivers' parade…
Max did his usual routine. Wait for P3 and P2 to head up to their allocated podiums until his name is announced to snatch the highest step. Except this time Nando told Max, "We'll both avoid Lewis during the champagne. It'll be fucking funny, yeah?" and quickly sped upstairs so he couldn't retain Max's answer. Only then did he wish that the Dutch and Austrian anthem went on for longer than tolerable. He was dreading the next minute.
Meanwhile, Fernando was experiencing euphoria. The champagne was horrid, but then again they're in Bahrain. Nothing is real. He continued to spray the foam onto Max's face with the intention of blinding him, therefore he couldn't see Lewis claiming his back, not as a show of respect, of course, but a quest for dominance. The older men refused to acknowledge their claustrophobic presence while spurting white liquid onto the new boy wonder. It was over as it started and in the end, neither were winners, just like old time's sake. Now the trio had to stand together, for some stupid pictures. Well. Lewis has already planned to put himself at the edge, beside some Aston Martin engineer or whatever. It's not like Fernando wasn't going to cling to his chosen descendant. Fortunately, he was able to reach the Spaniard's back and gave a small tap. The eldest turned his head to the Briton. Fernando mouthed, What's with the glare? while Lewis presented a smirk, noticeable only to them. Vignette surrounded each other's vision, to focus on what was once a teammate's face. An unnecessary nostalgia.
Max pinched the British Racing green overalls that caused Fernando to break away from his gaze into the eyes of nocturne.
The season is young. The moons have yet to rise.