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Airports were always a chaotic tapestry of human emotion. There were parents tearfully waving goodbye to children moving abroad, couples smiling thinking of upcoming holiday, and then there was Oscar, who could only stare blankly at the flight information display in Amsterdam Schiphol’s Schengen departure area.
The screen was a bleeding mess of red.
DELAYED. DELAYED. DELAYED.
Including his flight to Nice.
Oscar was at his absolute breaking point. Fresh off final exams, running on zero sleep, and weighed down by a backpack that felt heavier by the second, he felt like he was drowning in the uncertainty of a winter transit gone wrong. A sudden change in his exam schedule meant he couldn’t leave until December 23rd. He’d been forced to book a last-minute ticket, leaving him with a grueling connection in the middle of a tricky European winter.
While his family was already relaxing in Nice, waiting for Christmas with hot cocoa and warm dinners, Oscar was stranded in Amsterdam. He didn’t know how long he’d been dragging his feet through the endless corridors of Schiphol. His breath was shallow, his head filled with the drone of overhead announcements, and his brain was too fried to make a single decision.
It is so not Oscar.
Usually, he was prepared. Calm. He had a Plan B for everything. But right now, the only "Plan B" he could think was to collapse onto the floor and sleep right where he stood.
He walked through the crowd. Christmas decorations were everywhere. The warm lights and shiny ornaments made his heart feel warm but also empty. He loved Christmas, but the universe seemed to want him to spend this day alone
His phone lit up one last time before the screen went dark. Battery 2%. Complete disaster.
Oscar took a long breath. He looked around for a power outlet, but all the seats were full. Finally, he stopped in front of a glass door of a lounge near Gate D.
He paused. He couldn’t handle the noisy crowd anymore. The lounge looked busy but... quiet. However, he had to pay extra because he didn't have a Business Class ticket.
Okay, well, fuck it.
I will just charge my phone there, eat something, and take a breath while waiting for my flight.
God, please don’t cancel this flight.
The gate isn’t that far, and I will ask Mom to reimburse this, he thought as he walked to the reception desk.
Actually, Oscar was worried there would be no space. But through the glass, he saw one empty spot at the corner with a power outlet. Oscar laughed a little because he felt so relieved. Maybe this was the end of his suffering.
When he entered, the atmosphere changed. It was quieter and warmer. The smell of warm food mixed with coffee, and soft Christmas jazz played in the background. His energy went up by one percent. He walked fast, almost running, afraid someone else would take the spot.
Oscar got the chair.
Oscar got the outlet.
But his charger was missing.
His brain remembered the sad moment when he left his white charger in a plastic tray at the busy security check because he was in a rush.
His happiness didn't even last a minute. Now Oscar was slumped in the chair, staring at the lounge ceiling with his backpack open and a dead phone in his hand. He was too tired to be angry and too empty to complain.
“The ceiling isn’t going to talk back, you know. No matter how hard you stare at it.”
Oscar turned his head.
In the seat next to him sat a man who looked a few years older, dressed in a sharp navy coat and a crisp white turtleneck. He looked incredibly "put together", a stark contrast to Oscar, who felt like a walking pile of laundry. The man looked calm, sipping hot chocolate while focused on his iPad, looking perfectly settled despite the travel chaos outside.
"I'm not looking for a conversation with a stranger," Oscar replied shortly.
The man let out a low chuckle. He reached into the leather bag beside him and pulled out a white charging cable.
"But you are looking for a charger, no? I'm Carlos. And with that, we are not strangers anymore."
Oscar looked at the charger, then at Carlos, then back again. On one hand, he wanted to be left alone. On the other, he was looking at his literal salvation. Carlos pushed the charger closer, raising an eyebrow as if to say, 'Are you really going to say no?'
Oscar swallowed and sat up, his hands shaking slightly as he took the cable. "Okay... if you insist. Thank you for this."
Carlos nodded, though his attention didn't return to his iPad. He watched Oscar with a soft, observant gaze. "Go get some food first. I'll keep an eye on your things."
"Oh... no, no. I'm fine. Thank you," Oscar answered quickly.
Right on cue, his stomach let out a loud, traitorous growl. Oscar closed his eyes, mortified. The universe really wasn't pulling any punches today
“But your stomach says otherwise,” Carlos said with a faint smirk, “Go. I can’t stand working while listening to your growling stomach as background music.”
It was a lie. Carlos had just been scrolling through news articles.
Oscar blinked. This guy lent you his charger, Oscar. Just go. He gave a defeated nod and headed for the buffet. When he looked back, Carlos was actually tidying up Oscar’s stray jacket and cables. Oscar shook his head, grabbed a plate, and started piling on food. He wanted Carlos to stop being so attentive, yet part of him wanted the interaction to keep going.
Again, so not Oscar
When he came back to the table, the man was looking at his iPad again. "Thank you," Oscar whispered, eating his butter rice and chicken. "No problem."
After the first bite, Oscar felt alive again. He ate hungrily, as if the food was bringing his soul back.
"Slow down," Carlos said without looking away from his screen, but his voice sounded amused. "The food isn't going anywhere."
Oscar stopped chewing, his face turning a bit red. "You're very talkative for a stranger."
"And you're very interesting for a grumpy stranger," Carlos replied, finally putting down his iPad and leaning toward Oscar.
"Bristol, huh?" he asked after seeing the writing on Oscar’s hoodie. Oscar stayed quiet for a moment. He chose not to answer and focused on his food.
But Carlos didn't give up. "I know a student there, Lando," Carlos opened up his voice again and pretended to think. "Lando... what was it? I forgot his last name. Met him at a golf club in London a few months back. A friend of mine brought him along. Probably not in the same department as you."
Oscar swallowed his food before look up to Carlos. "Lando Norris?"
Carlos snapped his fingers, looking satisfied. "Ah, sí! That's the one. You know him?"
"Yeah. Shared some mutual friends, but we're not that close," Oscar replied.
Carlos leaned in further, raised his eyebrows lightly with his dark eyes intense and warm,"And you are….? Or should I guess it too?"
Oscar paused. He looked at Carlos with a confused face. But Carlos’s brown eyes were so deep and intense that Oscar felt his ears getting warm. He realized they had been talking, but he hadn't said his name yet.
"Oscar," he said shortly. "Oscar Piastri."
Carlos repeated the name slowly. "Oscar Piastri. It sounds much better than 'grumpy stranger'."
Then he leaned back and looked at Oscar with a softer gaze. "Feeling better now? Or was the day too long for even butter rice to fix?"
Oscar was surprised by the question. "A bit better," he answered honestly while taking his drink and Carlos replied with a soft nod.
"Glad to hear that. I'm a management consultant myself and deal with the messier side of things, like people. And you? Mechanical Engineering? I noticed your keychains. You engineers are always so focused on how things work."
Oscar wiped his mouth and set his fork down, finally feeling curious enough to engage.
"So you’re telling me you get paid to tell people things they probably already know, but in a fancier way?" Oscar raised an eyebrow, a flicker of sarcasm returning to his eyes.
"Ouch," Carlos laughed.
"I prefer to call it 'problem solving'. But hey, if you want to call it 'overpriced advice', be my guest. It’s definitely less stressful than figuring out engines and numbers at 3 AM, right?"
"We prefer the term 'being useful'," Oscar shot back
"I can be very useful too, you know," Carlos said playfully. "I already saved your phone from a certain death, didn't I? I’d say my 'consulting services' are off to a great start tonight."
Oscar huffed, trying to hide his flustered state. "I'll give your 'consulting services' a 7/10 for now. Don't get too ahead of yourself, Carlos."
The conversation continued easily. They talked about Carlos working in London and how it was close to Bristol. They talked about the busy airport, the weather, Lando and bit of college life, and Christmas plans. Oscar started to feel relaxed because of Carlos.
"London and Bristol. You’re practically my neighbor," Carlos said, "I’m usually there every few weeks for work. Maybe I’ll run into you at a cafe one of these mornings? I’ve got a list of great coffee recommendations, by the way.”
"Maybe. If I'm not buried under a pile of assignments," Oscar answered, trying to act cool even though his face felt hot.
"And Nice? What's the plan? Just hiding from the cold?" Carlos asked softly
"Family trip. It's a tradition. And honestly? I’ve had enough of the Bristol chill, so I suggested Nice this year for coastal Christmas experience. I love Christmas, actually. Just not the part where I'm stuck in an airport for hours," Oscar said while looking at his phone that started to show some signs of life.
"How about you? Madrid is home?" Oscar continued to ask. Of course he had noticed Carlos’ spanish accent.
"Always. Christmas in Madrid is... loud. Chaotic. But I missed it, also, I got my whole big family there,"Carlos smiled sincerely. Then he teased again. "I’m heading back to London on the 3rd, though. Back to reality. Unless I find something, or someone, to keep me distracted."
Oscar let out another huff, which only made Carlos chuckle.
He was so caught up in the conversation that he hadn't even checked the flight board. Suddenly, the announcement for the Nice flight echoed through the lounge. Oscar jumped, frantically gathering his things, a wave of relief washing over him that the flight wasn't cancelled.
“Oh, it’s mine. How about you, Carlos?”
Carlos looked at the board and his watch calmly
“I am still here for another 30 minutes, I guess.”
As Oscar tried to hand back the charging cable, Carlos gently stopped his hand.
"Keep it," Carlos said softly.
Oscar frowned. "What? No, I can't take this. It's yours, Carlos."
"I have a spare in my bag. Think of it as an early Christmas gift from your 'talkative stranger'," Carlos smirked. "Besides, I don’t want to hear about a certain Bristol engineering student getting stranded in Nice because his phone died. Now you don't have an excuse not to be reachable."
Oscar’s face went nuclear. He shoved the charger into his pocket.
"Fine. Thank you, Carlos. For everything. I'll... I'll make sure it stays alive."
"Good boy,"Carlos murmured. The words sent a small electric jolt down Oscar's spine.
Oscar threw his backpack over his shoulder. Carlos stood up, smoothing out his navy coat. "Have a safe flight, Oscar," Carlos said, reaching out to shake his hand. His thumb brushed over the back of Oscar's hand just for a second.
"And don't get too comfortable, I don't usually let client with 7/10 rating walk away without a follow-up."
Oscar couldn't find his voice. His throat was tight, his face too hot. He just shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips that he couldn't suppress. He gave a quick, awkward thumbs-up and turned around immediately, terrified Carlos would see just how red his cheeks had become.