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Summary
Lando is super proud of Jon for getting a promotion.
The problem? All these other trainers they give him suck. None of them last more than a few weeks, until Oscar Piastri.
Oscar is professional. Clear, precise.
‘Again.’
‘One more.’
‘Stop thinking and do it.’Not mean. Not demeaning or patronising like his other trainers. Just firm instructions that Lando can deliver on.
Then the fucking praise comes. Not often. Not effusive.
A firm ‘Good job.’ Or a grin and nod when he finishes a particularly grueling set.It makes something in Lando’s chest perk up, not an instinct to confront, but to please.
He pushes harder. Tolerates more pain, forces his legs to give one more. To go again. Just to see the pleased look on Oscar’s face.He knows it’s not a normal way to react, but it works.
Holy shit does it work.
By the time testing starts, Lando is in the best shape of his life.
Now if he could only figure out what to do with all those fucking feelings, he'll be a champion in no time.