Chapter Text
Nico stood in his driver’s room, staring at himself in the long mirror that stood there. When other drivers saw it, they always teased him. ‘Need to make sure you look good Britney?’ ‘Are you sure that’s big enough for your prettyness to fit in?’ ‘Should I get you some makeup to play with?’
He never really minded the jokes to be honest. Nico knew he was pretty. He knew that most drivers would hook up with him if given the chance and that most were disappointed by Nico’s attachment to a certain recent championship winner. None of them could understand how deep their relationship went. How, despite everything Lewis had done to Nico and vice versa, Nico would still love Lewis to an alarming amount.
Yet, as he stared at his reflection, eyes puffy and red, he couldn’t help but feel that love falter a bit. It didn’t help that Nico had started spouting bullshit to the media about a kid who wasn’t even 18. He’d been angry and taken it out on the wrong person. Max was young and he drove aggressively, sure, but Nico had seen how Jos acted towards the boy.
And he wished he understood yet he was so incredibly grateful he didn’t. His father had been nothing but loving and supportive towards him. Even when Nico told him he liked boys. God only knew how Jos would act if Max ever came out as gay to him.
Now, Nico had lashed out at a teenager, who was already being bullied by half the god damn grid. Fuck he felt stupid.
It didn’t help that Lewis and him had one of their worst fights this year. Unfortunately, it wasn’t on the track that this fight had happened. ‘On the track’ was easier. It gave them both an excuse. They were just racing and sometimes things got intense. That move wasn’t on purpose to sabotage you, it was just a stupid move.
Fuck, Nico was pathethic. He looked back at his reflection, double checking the door was locked by giving a quick glance back, before slipping off his race suit. On bad days, there was always one thing that always made it better. His progress.
He let out a sigh of relief as the suit slipped to his waist, analysing every inch of himself. The angry red cuts decorating his shoulders were prominent, but Nico paid no mind to them. They weren’t a concern. Just a way to help keep his progress. The progress he had to make if he ever wanted that god damn championship. This season was proof that if he had enough determination, it worked.
He could distinguish his ribs. Not to the point someone would notice if they were to give him a quick side hug, but noticeable enough that Nico knew he was doing good. His waist looked much less fat than it had before, accompanied by that nice feeling of emptiness. All of it was a reward.
Nico didn’t care that some people would see it as a problem. Sure, he was starving himself. But it wasn’t a big deal. Plenty of people did that and plenty of people would keep doing that. It wasn’t unhealthy to be determined and that’s what Nico was. Determined. That’s what he’d stay forever until he proved his worth to Lewis, to himself and to his dad.
The sound of the door handle rattling was heard through the room, but Nico, being so far in his own thoughts, barely heard it. All he heard was the noise of succession, the noise of finally being able to call himself worthy of getting a title. His ears didn’t pick up on anything but the pure noise of his euphoria.
“Oh, sorry I thought-”
A voice broke through the haze of Nico’s mind, making him blink. A second later, panic settled in. Nico whipped around to see the youngest member of the grid standing in his opened door.
Fuck.