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Summary
“Now,” he continued, deliberate and measured, “get dressed. I don’t care if you’re tired. I am as well. We’re going to the gym. And do not, do not, protest to me right now, Lando Norris, or I will call your mom.”
There was a moment of stunned silence, Lando blinking rapidly, caught somewhere between irritation, disbelief, and reluctant acknowledgment of Oscar’s control over the room. The words were laced with a rare authority, tempered by a strange warmth that made it impossible to argue. He knew when Oscar put his foot down like that, it wasn’t just about discipline, it was about redirecting all the frustration, channeling it somewhere tangible.
or, the aftermath of the Las Vegas grand prix 2025
Series
- Part 47 of this world might be cruel but I'm here