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Music was supposed to be a way to cope and in a sense it is. Here he is alone in a hotel room post-race starting at the ceiling and letting songs loop. Fragments catching on memories dragged thoughts to the surface of when he listened to these songs. When he traded lyrics for sobs on the beaches of Miami. Where he let the lyrics take over his thoughts post-Australian Grand Prix. The moments in his life where he wished he was somewhere else. Where the world seemed less out to get him and maybe just maybe he could be happy. But the universe had different plans for him it seems.
Memories - Conan Grey
Falling in love with a damn fantasy.
He's been living life in fiction but eventually, it all needed to come crashing down. Here he was driving a car he couldn't win in a race where he was supposed to be the focus. It was his home race for crying out loud but I guess the universe has a funny way of congratulating you. This was his dream. The first American driver to stand on the Miami podium. His dream, his destiny all came crashing down.
It wasn't even his fault. He didn't know he couldn't control it.
He didn't cause that crash.
Maybe there's something ironic about the whole thing. In a sick twisted way maybe he deserved it. Was there something left for him to look forward to? There wasn't a guaranteed seat for him anywhere on the grid next year. But I guess that doesn't matter much (it does), he can cope (he can't).
But please don't ruin this for me He can't help but ruin it for himself before someone can do it for him. It's not like he's ever scored more than a single point. He can barely make it through qualifying. There's nothing for him to look forward to. If he closes his eyes and prays maybe there is a reality where Alex doesn't get his car and he gets a chance. A reality where someone believes in him. But I guess it's not his reality he'll always be the spare. The one to help fix Alex.
I was barely just surviving I wish you would just stay in my memories
Gilded Lily - Cults
Haven't I given enough
Hasn't he given enough? He's given his time, his life, his family, and even his damn car to this team. A team that can't even bother to let him race every weekend. A team that can't bother to let him have a chance with them. a team that is icing him out.
Does it not matter? All his hours in the simulator and all the time spent pouring over data mean nothing to the team. Is he that replaceable? There is something so soul-crushing about being told there are so many people who can do your job better than you when you are trying.
Can people not see the blood sweat and tears he's poured into this team? The late nights avoiding parties to review data sheets obsessing over the tiniest details. Asking himself what could he have done to do better. Could he have completed the race?
Was it me or was it the car?
Always the fool with the slowest heart
Because surely it wasn't the car. Alex was driving the same car and he didn't have these issues. He placed in the points. There wasn't anything for James to get mad at him for. But god he was trying. Why can't people see he's trying? Isn't that enough? Isn't this all enough? He doesn't have more to give.
I was all over her - salvia path
I just remember I was lonely
There's something so gut-wrenchingly sad about sitting and waiting for a text to come in after you said something to fuck everything up. It wasn't his intention but I guess there's nothing he can do to change it now. His double texts sat unanswered and for him, that was enough. Maybe the morning would be kinder to him but honestly, he didn't know. Maybe he would be forgiven but also who forgets their anniversary. It's not like it was a day of but the bubbles that popped and this disappeared hurt more than anything that could've been said. So he left. He walked out of the room leaving his phone on the bed with unanswered texts still pulled up
Every stranger makes me feel safer
The club is packed with some random one he found just walking the streets. He's in some random European country trying to outrun his thoughts. It's not like anyone cared where he went during his breaks. They never bothered to ask. He pushed his way through the crowd getting lost in the sweaty bodies of those around him. If he closed his eyes and just let the music wash over him maybe it would drown out his thoughts. Maybe he wouldn't have to think anymore. And for a brief moment, it worked until a bottle of beer got dumped down his back. It wasn't the stranger's fault. Except maybe it was maybe this was one thing that couldn't be blamed on him. Passing out as night turns to day He couldn't seem to remember after the estranged dumped beer on his back but that's not his fault. The world seemed to have shifted overnight as it does. He ended up on some small forgotten stretch of the beach waiting for the waves. It reminded him of Florida of all the good memories. The ones he gave up for his dream. The midnight walks on the pier and the late-night swim sessions. Afternoons tanning at the beach or going out on the boat. The life he could have had if he never raced to begin with. The life he would have had if he never moved to Europe to race in the European circuits.
Saturdays - Louis Tomlinson
Feeling dirt cheap on Silver Street
Was this what the feeling used felt like? He couldn't remember a time before Alex was the main driver. That's how it's always been but as time went on his position and priority sun lowered and lowered. Maybe this was his fate to be subjected to the scraps. But this was a new low.
We always said Saturdays take the pain away
Someone must've gotten that twisted. Saturdays brought nothing but pain recently. What did he do to deserve this? Was there something he could have done to fix things to make them see his potential? Why was Alex given priority? He wrecked the car first. Alex is the priority driver but priority enough to get Logan's car. Enough to the point that hes not allowed to drive the car designed for him on the strategy designed for him. Enough to the point of I don't even get my original car back after this weekend. He's being forced to drive Alex's repaired chassis. Alex isn't even forced to drive that car. But he is the spare. He is the one who is supposed to fix things. He's supposed to be the mind-mannered, accepting one who rolls with the pouches and who does whatever Williams tells him to. They don't care so why should he? There's nothing left for him. He's not guaranteed a seat next year. Hell, they don't even want him to drive this year. Maybe he’ll just leave.
What's stopping him? Is anyone stopping him? Does anyone care?
Seasons - wave to earth
Maybe no one will notice if I disappear
There was something so freeing about shutting off all social media. It was his oasis. Picking a random country, deleting everything, and just disappearing. Normally he had a set timeline. He was supposed to leave Tuesday night to fly to wherever the next race was. Where that was he couldn't even remember all he knew was he had a 4-hour layover in Croatia. So imagine his surprise when he gets a text from Alex asking where he was. All the drivers scheduled a get-together over the break. One he was conveniently left out of. Maybe it was last minute. Surely not everyone would be there. Redownloading Instagram was probably the worst mistake he made because it wasn't last minute. It wasn't even slightly last minute; it had been planned for months. No one bothered to let me know. Even retired grid members were there. Everyone but him.
But I'll pray for you all the time If I could be by your side
It hurt more seeing people he once considered his best friends standing there surrounded by everyone else. People desperately wanted to accept him and care about him. Was it so hard to invite him to these things? Not wanting to worry Alex, he just responded with a picture of the sea and said he was somewhere in northern Russia. To be honest he wasn't sure where he ended up just that it was secluded and on the coast. It reminded him of home even if it was a lot colder than Florida. There was a sense of peace here even if he couldn't understand what they were saying. And so he walked along the coast and throughout the streets. He walked until he felt like collapsing. The only thing he could think about was the pain in his feet and the tears welling up behind his eyes. He walked until he couldn't remember if it was his choice not to go (he knew it wasn't) or if he truly wanted to be there ( he did with every fiber of his being). Finally, he let himself collapse on the shore of the beach. A similar position he found himself in many months ago along the coast of Florida.
I'll give you all my life, my seasons
And much like before he wept. He cried for all the memories being lost to time. The friendships he desperately wanted to hold onto but couldn't figure out how. He wept for the best friends he used to have and those who let me walk away without caring. And he cried for himself. For how his dreams unfolded before him. A star collapsing, burning up before it was able to reach its full potential. How could he have let himself hope? Nothing good ever comes from hoping. Nothing good was ever going to come from his delusions. Maybe he should just cancel his flight. Williams has reserve drivers. Someone else can drive his car. Maybe Alex will use it. Who is he kidding? Alex has been using his car all season. He's been stuck with Alex's repaired chassis.
Maybe this is the final soundtrack. Or maybe this is the intermediary playlist.