Chapter Text
It feels good to be back on track. It really does.
But somewhere inside me knows too well that things have changed. I am no longer a kid clutching to a big dream, but a guy who actually keeps a World Champion trophy in his closet. All of that feel surreal, even until now.
Walking through McLaren Department with my head low, my lungs fill with the smell of oil, brand-new machinery. Something else hangs in the air, which I interpreted as eagerness and anticipation. With wins in both Driver's Championship and Constructor's Championship last year, we vowed to put even more effort in the game this year, hopefully enough to bring something for Oscar.
Oscar.
Oscar Piastri, my dearest teammate and sometimes my biggest rival.
We have known each other for years, but I guess my first impression about him never actually goes away. It stuck in the back of my mind and sometimes I still use it to judge him, which I probably shouldn't, especially when the team want us to show how connected we are to each other. Oh, the things we are willing to do for sponsors, PR and marketing.
Grabbing some energy bars on the kitchen counter, I step in my driver's room. Some of my mechanics are already there, saying hello to me with smiles in their eyes. I would never get to be where I am today without them and not once I stopped feeling grateful for that. We spend some time reviewing the new features of the cars, talking about new regulations, discussing about what could possibility done to make the engine lasts longer. Lunchtime hits before I even acknowledge the time.
My mouth is still full of salad when my eyes meet Oscar's. Fully knowing how ridiculous I look in this moment, I still can't hold a bright smile to greet him. "Hiiiii Osc, I've missed you".
"Even though I couldn't hear what you just said but I've missed you too mate" – Oscar laughs, his eyes gleaming in the sunlight. He points at the corner of my mouth "Were you the one who made promise to stop having so much sauce in salad to stop gaining weight?"
"C'mon, you wouldn't even look at salad if there's no sauce in it". I try to wipe of the left-over sauce but some of it must have spread all over my face. Oscar leans over, his thumb gently brushing my chin to wipe off the annoying sauce.
I hate how my heart stutters for such a small gesture, one probably means nothing to my own teammate. The heat under my skin is quite unbearable that I have to tear myself from the scene, quickly sit down before Oscar suspects something.
I am aware this isn't normal. The way my cheeks turn red, my skin tingling and seems like my stomach never stops making that weird feeling whenever I'm close to Oscar. Maybe that's why I never try to get too close to him. There's something so strange about him, or me, that I could never figure out. I do what I do best – act like we're best mate on earth, but in reality, he doesn't know a damn thing about me.
Oscar is still across the table, a plate of untouched sandwich puts neatly in front of him. He's talking about his break and how he misses Australia the moment he left. Or at least I guess that's what he is talking about, since my eyes are glued to his mouth and the way he moves his lips.
"Lando, you are zoning out mate. What are you thinking about?". Another moment staring at Oscar got caught, another defeat for Lando. I shrug casually, then tell him I was thinking about the track and improvement of tires this year. After a few random stories, Oscar decides to go to his own room and I get back to mine.
***
A whole day slips away into a moment of time and when I look up, the sky has already turned into papaya color. Quickly take my phone to snap a shot, I post the picture on my Instagram and immediately get thousands of hearts and wishes for a successful season ahead. I scroll my phone for a bit, enjoy the humor from strangers who come up with endless funny things to share. Some of the comments mention Oscar and how they hope he would win this year. I reply to them in my head, saying my wish is exactly the same.
Sometimes at night, my mind would involuntarily wonder about everything. I wish the voices could shut up but silence is such a luxury thing that I couldn't afford. Different things always pop up in my mind, questions coming out nonstop. Today I just have only one name circling in the back of my mind.
I couldn't believe after all these years and here I am, lying alone on my bed, trying to figure out about my reactions to Oscar's presence. I mean, I wouldn't be so harsh on myself and just accept it if I'm into him, but everything is easier said than done. Part of the reason why I avoid him getting closer is just to shield myself from another possible heartbreak. I know he's alone and single, never seen him leaving parties with girls in his arms but well, what if he isn't into me? Then I'll spend months crying myself to sleep.
I learnt my lesson in a hard way, never get involved romantically to your colleagues. And I attempt my best to never repeat the mistake one more time.