Chapter Text
US Open 2026
Oscar Piastri cannot believe he is here. Sitting front row and centre at Flushing Meadows. In front of him, the umpire is announcing the start of the fourth, likely last, set of what has been a brutal display of tennis.
Both players take a few seconds before returning to their sides of the court. Oliver Bearman is serving to force a fifth set. The young English player is playing in his first Slam final and has played brilliantly throughout the tournament. But right now, he looks exhausted, and that only becomes more apparent as he serves a double fault at deuce.
"Advantage, Nor-"
Oscar has to sit back in his seat. It is taking everything in him to remain seated because all he wants to do is run down and grab the racket from Bearman's hand. He watches, though, as Bearman takes a deep breath, recollects himself and serves two unreturned aces to take to take the advantage. His second serve is a little shaky, Oscar notes, and his strong almost surgical backhand is his real strength, he thinks, as the said backhand falls just inside the line to take first set.
0-1
"You know, maybe it's Bearman who's going to stop him." Logan says, wishful thinking. "I mean think about it, would be poetic to lose Calendar Slam to a young talent and fellow countrymen." Oscar knows Logan knows that isn't why they're here. Why Oscar is here. Twenty thousand people are sitting here in the Arthur Ashe stadium to watch the exact opposite outcome. It has nothing to do with Oliver Bearman, really. The boy is an incredible talent. He will definitely top the rankings and win slams in coming years, just not today. Today, the world wants history. They want the Calendar Slam. Another crown for La-
The second game is over in a blink with Bearman not scoring a single point.
1-1
"You were saying?" Oscar gives Logan an unimpressed look. Logan simply rolls his eyes.
Oscar catches the camera pan towards them, and soon they are on the big screen. "They are watching your reaction." Oscar knew this would happen. He gives nothing away though and continues looking at the court with a neutral expression. He watches as Bearman losses his service game and fails to break back.
3-1
"What are you gonna do?" Logan asks. Oscar has thought about this more in the last four days than he has in the last four years. Before that, if had always been a fleeting thought, a spike of excitement or a brief rush of adrenaline while watching a brutal 5-setter. But today, he can feel it in every muscle. He wants it. He wants to come back. He wants to play Lan-
"I don't know," he blurts out, to stop himself from finishing that thought. "Dude, you are literally holding yourself back from grabbing that racket from Bearman and playing him yourself," Logan says, loud enough for the whole section to hear. Oscar only glares at him.
Bearman miraculously holds serve.
"You know exactly what you're gonna do."
3-2
"I just... I thought you would tell me at least, you know... best friend privileges." Oscar chooses to ignore him. Logan would be the first to know. Of course he would. But right now, Oscar isn't ready to accept the truth himself.
4-2
He watches as Bearman fails to hold another service game and almost smashes his racket on the ground after not returning a fast cross-court forehand. Truthfully, he had been played. His backhand is his biggest strength and, during high-pressure points like these, it comes naturally to rely on it to get the ball across the net. He realised a little too late that he had been pinned to one side of the court to see the cross-court shot coming.
5-2
Monday, 21st November, 2022.
Oscar Piastri had just finished a record-breaking season on the ATP tour. He had won three of the four Slams, six Masters 1000 titles, and every match at the ATP Finals in Turin—until his last match.
He was leading 4-2 in the first set when he first felt the ache in his wrist. He was returning a particularly heavy backhand, one he really should not have tried to hit with that much force. The ache was sharp and sudden, but he managed to return the ball, only for it to sail high and land on his own side of the court.
The pain only intensified after that. His team told him to stop playing, pushing this hard at the end of the season when he was already World No. 1 was not worth it, they said. But Oscar was sick of it. Sick of losing to the person who stood across the net. He refused to walk away, even if this was the last time he ever stood on court. And so it was.
Oscar lost 4-6, 3-6.
Still, it had been a record season, 16,480 points, three slams, ten titles and fifteen finals appearances. The most dominant season in the ATP Tour history and yet it ended with him announcing the wrist injury.
World No. 1 Oscar Piastri announces his withdrawal from the ATP Tour after suffering a career-threatening wrist injury.
For four years, Oscar had not stepped onto a tennis court. He had not been anywhere near tennis, really, until now.
His wrist had completely recovered after a year or so. He doesn't care to remember exactly when. Because somewhere during that time, he had lost the desire to return.
Back home, with his family, he started to realise how much he had missed simply staying in one place. Being present for birthdays and anniversaries. You don't get that on Tour. So he just decided to not return and convinced himself it was worth it. That resolve though is very much broken. He's sitting here after all.
He watches as Bearman runs towards a deep backhand, barely manges to return it, the ball goes high in the air, and falls in his own side of the court.
6-2
"Game,
Oscar watches as a racket goes flying up in the air.
"Set,
He watches as it falls down somewhere behind him.
"Match,
Collapsed, on his knees, hands on his face, shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? Oscar wonders. Or crying?
"Norris."
Lando takes his hands away from his face. His eyes are shining with unshed tears and his lips are pressed tightly together before a bright smile takes over his entire face.
Oscar simply forgets how to breathe.
He watches as Lando lets out of huge breath, grabs his racket and walks towards the net. He hugs Bearman, who looks a little suprised by it, before rising on his toes to pat the younger man's head.
They both both shake hands with the umpire and Lando claps and waves to the crowd.
Everyone is standing inside the Arthur Ashe stadium. Everyone is cheering for him. Oscar watches as Lando makes his way up the stairs and falls into the arms of his mum.
Oscar decides he hates watching.
He tears his eyes away from Lando Norris and heads towards the exit.
*･°･*
Lando Norris has just won the US Open. And completed the Calendar Slam. Tomorrow, Monday, 14th September, 2026, the rankings will update and he will hold 16,500 points. A new record. He is sure he will end the season with even more than that. No one is going to stop him.
Back in his hotel room, just as the high begins to settle, he stands on the balcony overlooking the lights of New York City.
He cannot stop thinking about it. He catches himself smiling, at the thought. Again.
He did that.
Oscar Piastri had travelled halfway across to world to spend his Sunday sitting inside a tennis stadium. It cannot be a coincidence that Lando was the one playing.