GROWTH

- Can you explain to me what it means? - Mark's harsh voice comes like a bolt from the blue as we fly home together.
I look up completely lost in thought, not understanding what the hell he means. I still have the wonderful orgasm and the little bit of alcohol I drank with the guys before leaving, so I'm at peace and don't immediately realize what he's talking about. But when I see his phone screen, it doesn't take me long.
There's the video of the McLaren celebrations from a few hours ago, specifically the moment when Lando briefly apologized to me for yet another on-track "thing" between us that benefited him and ruined my race.
- It was his fault, huh? - he says still harshly. My eyes widen and I shrug.
- I didn't know it at the time, but he apologized, he didn't accuse me! - I know what he really means, you don't have to explain it to me, but I hope I'm pretending well. I used to be able to, but now I'm not sure.
- And was it necessary to accept his apology so easily? It's clear that you're saying 'No, it's okay!' Okay, what, Oscar? Do we want to wake up and stop this U-turn before it drives you into a ditch?
Mark is angry and very harsh, not the slightest bit friendly and I remain frozen, staring at him, knowing he's right. He's not saying anything obscene, although his tone isn't tender.
I take deep breaths trying not to be noticed, but again it seems I can't take it anymore; I can tell by the way he raises his eyebrows in surprise.
- Are you losing your cold blood now, too? How many other things are happening to you, Oscar?
It seems he's seeing me after a long time away. Mark didn't always come with me to the races, but he does every now and then. This time he was there.
I feel like I'm being scrutinized and I tense up, desperately trying to put on my usual mask that fucks everyone. But then I realize the meaning of his last words and while I normally don't make these kinds of comments, this time is different. It's very different and I don't know why.
- My cold blood? - I ask, trying to calm myself while I feel an absurd, annoying whirlwind inside me.
Mark nods remaining a hard, furious statue of stone.
- Yes, Oscar, your cold blood. Your main characteristic has always been your lack of feeling and that's how you've handled complicated situations on the track. You never lose your head. What's wrong with you now? You're nervous and annoyed and that's not a good sign. Like before with Lando, or the other times he's pissed you off on the track over some stupid thing, for which he later apologized and you're ready to drop your pants and smile amiably. What's going on, will you tell me?
Something's starting to happen inside me. Right now, while he's rolling like a train that doesn't stop at any station. He's going straight ahead and hitting everyone, including me, but something happens this time.
A spark ignites in me and even though I know perfectly well not to react, that he's my agent and that he's right, I can't. I can't. I don't know why. I really don't know. Maybe because of what I thought before always because of Lando.
He's changed me, just as I've clearly changed him.
He's found security and calm, but I'm losing something, even if I don't know what. Or maybe I've found something.
- What the fuck does everyone think? That I'm a robot? I'm not insensitive, I'm not incapable of feelings! I feel emotions too! Just because I don't show them like everyone else doesn't mean I don't feel them, damn it!
- But you've never let them out, you've always stored them inside you, managing to do exactly what needed to be done! Mark replies promptly, no more pissed off than before.
I bite my lip stiffening and clench my hands over my shorts, further demonstrating my turbulent state of mind.
- Well, I can do it even if I take them out and live them normally!
- I don't think so! Anyway, you don't need to be normal! This abnormality of yours is your strong point! That boy is changing you for the worse, Oscar. Stop or you'll lose yourself.
He doesn't hold back. He doesn't hold back for shit. His tough and prickly nature is famous, I knew it when I accepted this collaboration and I owe him everything and will always stand behind him no matter what he says, but right now, right now, I feel like I'm going to explode and I know that if I speak now, it's over. I know that perfectly.
But maybe I'm too full of Lando and his fuck; I can't shut my mouth, even though it's always been my best quality.
- For the worse? I'm finally becoming human. I've never felt so alive and happy, precisely because I'm normal for the first time in my life. And you tell me I'm getting worse and that it's ruining me? How is bad being human and having feelings?
I'd like to get up and leave, lock myself away somewhere, but I'm not a fucking child and anyway we're on a damn plane. Where the hell am I supposed to go?
So I'm staying right here, resting my head on my hand and my elbow on the edge of the window, I wander with a frowning look outside, into the world that's separating us as the plane lifts off.
My heart is beating like it's never been before, apart when I'm with Lando. With him it’s always beaten a lot. I’ve always felt so alive with him.
I've had more courage than I've ever had with anyone, I've said things I've never said, done things I've never done. I've managed to feel emotions I've never felt before and I'm happy.
Why should that be a bad thing?
- If you can't manage emotions and people, that's a bad thing. Listen, Oscar. Don't get me wrong. I know perfectly well that you're human and normal, you have feelings like everyone else, you just don't show them. This is a strength because it allows you to handle complicated situations. In F1, that's everything. It's what can make the difference in a race. I'm not telling you to dehumanize yourself, I'm telling you that while he's gaining confidence thanks to your closeness, you're losing your cold and that's not good. Besides, he's taking advantage of you and you don't understand.
As soon as he says it, my eyes widen as if I'd been stabbed in the stomach with a blade. I can't breathe and I whirl around staring at him in shock, convinced I've misunderstood. But he remains serious, no longer angry. He stares at me with conviction, not wanting to take back what he said. Not regretting it, not wanting to correct his aim.
- What is Lando doing? - I ask in a thin, tense tone. I feel like a hand grenade; he has the safety catch in his fingers and is removing it, but if he really does it, if he removes that little piece of iron, I don't know what will happen.
- He’s taking advantage of you. He's realized you like him and thanks to that, you forgive him for anything. So, after the first time he accidentally hit you and you didn't take it personally, now he does it on purpose and takes advantage of it. A pathetic apology, a warm smile and everything passes for you. You forgive him and in the meantime the races fucked up are yours, while he slowly fucks you in every way.
I don't know what he knows; I don't think he knows about our actual relationship. Maybe he's referring to a friendship that I'm aware is well-known.
I take a deep breath and open my eyes wide frankly shocked, angry and annoyed, but I hold back desperately trying to hold back because I know, I know full well, it's wrong. You don't talk back to Mark Webber; he's my agent, I owe him everything, even my life, if he wanted to.
I have to shut up and accept it. Accept it, Oscar. Be who you've always been.
The one who knows his place, who says exactly what needs to be said, when it needs to be said and how it needs to be said.
I bite my lip, my heart still in my throat, my veins pounding, my head hit like an explosion, my nerves are shaking and I clench my fists tighter.
I'd like to speak, but I can't and shaking my head, I go back to staring outside.
Shut up. Well, at least I can still do that. I can't say what needs to be said, but at least I can no answer the way I'd like.
Because if I opened my mouth now I'd tell him to go fuck himself, because he shouldn't be allowed to insinuate things like that about Lando, because I love him and our relationship is real and sincere and he knows nothing about us.
Lando is my soul, he's my human side, it's only thanks to him that I realized I'm normal and for someone who grew up believing to be strange and different, that makes all the difference in the world.
I will never deny him. Never.
- You don't agree now, but you'll think about it, because I know you well and I know you will. And as you try to understand if it's true, you'll realize I'm right. Lando is changing you for the worse, he's taking away your greatest strength, but more than anything, and I beg you to consider this, he's taking advantage of you.
I freeze, I don't blink, I don't breathe, I don't move a muscle, as I stare out blindly.
The sky is dark and reflects my soul; right now I feel like this night.
Endless darkness.
It's not true; he's not using me to regain the lead in the championship and improve where he was weak.
He's improving because he's doing excellent work on himself with his psychologist. Not everyone has the strength to admit they have a problem and agree to get help.
The humility Lando demonstrated is something not many possess and it's an enormous strength I'll never have. Since I was born, I've thought I was different and strange and had problems, but I've moved forward by adapting to this way of being. I've never tried to change because I thought it was okay the way I was and thought I couldn't. Instead, he knows he wants to change, he’s trying to do so and he's succeeding. What he's getting isn't because he plays dirty with me, but because he deserves it.

Mark's words, as he predicted, are digging into me.
They're digging into me these days. They're digging like a cancer and every time I see Lando, he keeps asking me what's wrong and I always shake my head and smile, but I think I'm smiling badly, very badly. Because I'm no longer capable of pretending and showing others what I want them to see.
Because I've changed too, thanks to him. Now I have feelings and I can show them.
I wish I could convince him, but I can't and so, at his umpteenth retort: ​​- Are you mad at me for Singapore? You told me it was fine! - and at my umpteenth retort: ​​- No, Lando, I'm fine, it's not that! - he blurts out rudely, as is his splendid way, and, getting up from the couch, openly tells me to go fuck and walks away.
Before theatrically slamming the door, he shouts at me from a few meters away: - Don’t take me for an idiot, Osc! You know I know you! You know I know you have something! So at least be honest and just tell me you don't want to talk to me about it, but don't bullshit me by saying you have nothing, because it drives me crazy! I'm not an idiot, okay? When you want to talk about it, I'll be there! Anyway, fuck you!
And it's wonderful the way he gets fired up, screams and tells me to go fuck myself.
It's so wonderful that I replay that trip with Mark a week ago in my head and imagine myself to respond badly, like I wanted to.
It's too late now.
No, I know I was right to keep quiet. Mark is my agent, I owe my career to him. I will never turn against him.
But I need something I don't know and I can't always ask Lando, except that in the world, right now, he's the only one I'd ask.
It's just... it's about him.
What if Mark is right somehow?
Not that Lando is taking advantage of me; he's too natural to hide his feelings and show others that aren't true. It's just that Mark doesn't know Landp the way I do.
But he might be right in saying that this relationship is changing me and taking away the clarity and composure needed for competition.
I don't know if it's true, but something inside me isn't the same as before.

I see it in Texas.
I can't stop thinking about it and I live with this horrible question all week.
Is Lando taking away my ability as a driver?
From the way things are going until the end of the race, I'm tempted to say yes.
I've obviously gotten worse in some ways. But is it his fault? Would walking away make any difference?
As I ask this, I realize this sort of experiment is already underway. I didn't mean to, it wasn't my plan, but Lando is still pissed at me and I haven't done anything to fix it.
It wasn't to test this theory, at least not in my idea. But in the end, I'm doing it.
I'm letting this distance build between us and wondering if it will help me.

In Austin, no, it doesn't help me and it doesn't help me in Mexico either.
How long do I want to continue this pathetic, pointless torture?
Lando still doesn't talk to me except when he has to because of the things we have to do together in public; every time he looks at me, his eyes hide an all-too-clear hope.
Because his eyes are full of wonderful colors and he feels so many things at once, that it's incredible he can now manage them all.
He's focused, he manages to do well from start to finish, he remembers everything he has to do and he does it.
Saturday's qualifying speaks for itself; the lap he does at the end, which gives him an unexpected pole position, is spectacular and he is, while I remain obscenely dull.
Lando shines and shines with or without me.
A demonstration, if nothing else, for me to understand that no, Mark isn't right at all.
During the race I realize this even more.
As I run, I'm struck by this revelation like a flash of lightning that illuminates a dark night. The same one I felt a few weeks ago, flying home.
It's not true that Lando is improving because he takes advantage of me while playing tricks on me.
He shines regardless.
He shines because of his rediscovered talents, talents he's always had but that were overshadowed by the exaggerated emotions he felt.
He's simply learned to manage them, and this alone, beyond me.
Lando has worked hard and done an incredible job and in these two days of racing in Mexico, it's so clear that no one can have any doubts anymore.
Me or not he's good, the talent is his and the work is personal.
As I run, I have confirmation of this, knowing that he's in the lead from start to finish and that he's running a race of his own.
As he does this, I slowly realize that this was actually what was holding me back.
Exactly this.
The terror that Lando was truly taking advantage of me and my feelings.
No, it's not like that. It's not like that at all.
Now that I know, now that I've had damned proof without a shadow of a doubt, I feel clearer than I've felt in weeks.
I don't know how many races have it been since I’m not anymore mentally free, but now I see everything clearly and there's no blurring or mist clouding my vision.
Corner after corner, lap after lap, while I think only about racing and doing what I have to do, what I know how to do to improve at least a little on yet another shitty race, while I pull off incredible overtaking moves that aren’t at all a given for me in the conditions I've been in these past few weeks, I feel light.
Light and free.
As if something had clicked inside me.
Maybe because now I can see perfectly; it's no longer night. It's day again and the sun lights my path beautifully.
I know what I have to do.
Just as Lando worked hard to improve the weaknesses that prevented him from shining as he could, I will have to work hard to get back to my level.
Now I have what I've always wanted, something I didn't have and I'm not used to being with. Clearly I couldn't imagine being the same as before, I'm different, it's true. Lando has changed me, there's no doubt about it, but that's what I wanted. I just have to learn to manage myself, just as Lando has. Because if he learned to deal with his ADHD, I can do it now that I've gone from 'autistic' to 'normal'.
Because I don't want to go back to how I was before, I want to continue like this. Exactly as I am now. I just have to find the way, but since I can drive pretty well, I'm sure I can do it.
Today Lando surpasses me in the world championship by one point and there are still a few races to go, and that's great. That's really great.
I'll be able to take back what I had and if I don't, it will only be because Lando ultimately deserved it more.