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When Logan stepped out of his car, he felt his world crashing around him. Finishing P17 would usually bode well for his team, a reminder his skills were improving. However, with the last three drivers not finishing, he’d still managed a last place position. It wasn’t a bad race per se, he’d fought hard and defended as well as he could given his car. He’d just somehow managed to fall behind in the end once again.
His self esteem at an all-time low, Logan skipped the podium ceremonies and celebrations, opting to sneak away to his hotel room. When he was younger, he’d always dreamed of a world in which he was here, driving in F1, his best friend Oscar at his side, a testament to their journey together.
Oscar.
He felt like crying now, once happy memories with Oscar now filled with heavy resentment. It wasn’t fair. He’d done his best, he’d been in the same races as Oscar, but he could never be Oscar. Oscar’s gentle smile had quickly gained the hearts of fans worldwide. Another Australian driver signed with McLaren with hopes and dreams and a car that could make them happen. And here was Logan, locked in his room after finishing last. He had a country that couldn’t care less about his sport and a team that would replace him in a heartbeat if they could.
He wished he could just run away from his troubles. He wanted to disappear down a windy road, his hair in his face as he ran through the fields of his Southern upbringing. He reminisced about his father, the words he’d said to him echoing through his mind as he cried.
“Never make a home on the road.”
And here he was. He’d done exactly that. No more than a week at home at a time, his life a series of flashes of random countries and cities he’d never heard of. It wouldn’t have been that bad if he’d had company. His mind flitted back to Oscar, a reminder of what he’d once had. With Oscar at McLaren, winning , he became impossibly busy, never having enough time to catch up with Logan. Just another reminder of Logan’s failures.
All the love he’d had was wasted on his car, his energy drained as he mindlessly traveled with his team. Deluded by his loneliness, Logan reached for his phone, reading his last texts with Oscar.
osc
hey lo do u have that jacket i lent u?
2 weeks ago
oh yeah, um i’ll give it back at the race
thanks bud! ur the best
Of course Oscar had only texted him to get something from him, their friendship nothing more than a series of faded memories. He found himself longing for Oscar’s presence, a reminder of the past. He felt like his life had no purpose, the champagne he’d downed when he’d returned to his room doing nothing to damper his depression. Bordering on the edges of tipsy and drunk, Logan typed out a desperate message to Oscar.
osc
i miss u osc🙁
I fele like we ‘r so difrngt
I lvo u
read 1:03 AM
Logan hadn’t exactly been expecting a response, but the immediate read receipt certainly didn’t help. He felt tired. The ways of this world wearing him thin like Leclerc’s tires in Suzuka. He felt himself drifting out of consciousness, his phone lying beside him.
osc
im omw whats ur room number ?
1:04
lo?
1:05
lo ur scaring me
1:06
1:30 AM
33 missed calls
32 from Oscar. 1 from his sister.
He opened Oscar’s latest message first…
“Hey Lo, it’s Oscar. Please answer the phone. I’m at the front desk, they won’t give me your room number… sniffle I- Please be okay Lo, I know I haven’t been the greatest friend, I mean- just be okay. Please.”
Shit.
He called Oscar immediately, he answered on the first ring.
“Logan. Lo please, say something.” Oscar said as the line connected, his voice breathy with tears.
“ Osc. I’m so sorry, I fell asleep, I mean I think I did. I’m a little drunk.” He replied, slurring his words a bit.
“Logan, where are you? I tried to find you after the race but your engineer said you’d left? I know it wasn’t the result you wanted and I just wanted to check in on you, and then I received that text when I got back to my hotel and you stopped answering…” Oscar said, clearly out of breath.
“I’m sorry I really, I felt like running away, coming back when the car’s better and everything’s healed. It got me thinking, I mean we never see eachother anymore and I couldn’t handle that, so I texted you. I guess I got carried away in my thoughts, I love you ya know? Wait, I actually don’t think you were supposed to know that, sober Logan is gonna be so mad!” He giggled, pulling the phone away from his ear.
“Logan, what room are you in? I’m not leaving you alone and drunk.”
“Huh? Oh no… No. No. Sober Logan wouldn’t want that I think… He really loves you, ya know? And you kinda abandoned him. I think he’s avoiding you… Oops! I shouldn’t have said that.” Logan laughed again, this whole situation really was funny.
“Logan please. ”
“Your voice is pretty!” Logan said, his drunk mind fixating on all the things he loved about the boy on the other end of the line.
“Room number… Logan please. Please. ”
“Oh um! 8- uh hold on let me open the door and see… It’s kinda blurry, uh… 812! Just like us! I like us!” Logan said, slumping against the door, his drunken legs not being able to handle his giddiness anymore.
Logan was half-asleep by the time Oscar met him at his room. He’d fallen against the door, his legs splayed outside of the room, while his back was against the inside wall of his room.
“Okay buddy, let’s go to bed, yeah?” Oscar said, hoisting Logan up by the waist.
“Do I have to? Oscar said he’s coming soon… I really like Oscar.” Logan replied dreamily, laying his weight against him.
“So you’ve said… You really ought to tell him when you’re sober. I think he’d like to hear that…” Oscar said, lost in thought.
“Oh… Hi Oscar! When did you get here?” Logan asked, turning his head upside down to smile at his friend.