Chapter Text
The paddock was alive again.
Yes, the slopes were nice, and the holiday was nice, but Lando missed the smell of burnt rubber, the fresh coffee, the feeling of an anticipating race weekend. Formula 1 would always find its way back to him after a well-needed break.
And something was different this year. A slight change, but it made him feel unstoppable. Something he had worked his entire life for as he went up through the ranks of karting and signed with McLaren in 2019.
His car number was 1.
It was on his cap, his racing suit, his merch. His car. And that couldn’t make him prouder of his 2025 season. Fighting Oscar and Max, and claiming the title in Abu Dhabi.
Oscar.
They hadn’t kept that close in contact over the Christmas break, as Lando was skiing with his mates and Oscar was somewhere in Australia with his friends and family and girlfriend.
Lando was nervous again. What would Oscar make of them being teammates after he beat him last year? They had made it clear there would be no hard feelings as they parted ways after the final team party, but who knows?
During the pre-season testing Oscar was nothing but normal. Lando wasn’t sure if that was a good sign. Being Formula 1 drivers, they constantly had to act around cameras and the media, smiling and laughing like nothing was wrong for the fans. This ‘norm’ meant sometimes, he had absolutely no clue whether Oscar was acting or not, so it was impossible to tell.
Sighing, he tugs on his McLaren hoodie despite it not being that cold, and walks across the paddock, waving at his fellow drivers as they cross paths, exchanging small conversation.
Lando, George and Alex kept each other updated the duration of the entire break, being the closest with each other since their Formula 1 debuts together.
He sees George outside the Mercedes motorhome, and waves.
“Nice to be back?” Lando asks him.
“You have no idea. Car’s a dream to drive, can’t wait.” George replies, smiling.
He’s right; the Mercedes looked to be the class of the field going into Australia. For George, he seemed to be the early championship favourite going into the season, having the best car and his teammate Kimi Antonelli being in only his second season of F1 ever.
“I’ll take your word for it. Watch out when my papaya rocket comes barreling past you though mate!” Lando cheekily winks, playfully punching George on the shoulder.
Truth is, he knows McLaren were not the strongest team on the grid, but this year he promised himself that he would finally have fun. The end of the 2024 season and 2025 season had taken a mental toll on him, and whilst he achieved his dream, he wanted to spend 2026 having fun racing with the number 1. Maybe allow himself the thought of defending his title later.
As he finally arrives at the McLaren motorhome, he is greeted by Louise, his marketing officer.
“Hey Lando! Great to see you again! Here’s your timetable. You have media in a couple of minutes, and then you have to film some videos with Oscar. Yknow, his home gp and season starter and all. Catch you later!” she says.
Lando makes his way to the media pen from the McLaren motorhome. He still hadn’t seen Oscar, but then again, he was probably on some home grand prix media side quests. Oscar Piastri, Australia’s golden boy.
“LANDOOOO!”
Lando is greeted, well, smacked into by his favourite Spanish driver. They exchange a handshake and hug, all smiles.
“Carlitos! Good to see ya mate! How’s the holiday?”
“Great, Lando, great. Hey man, I’m in a rush, but I’ll see you very soon?”
“100%. Bye!”
As their interaction comes to an end, someone hands Lando a mic, and his questioning begins…
He takes a deep breath, already knowing exactly what questions they were going to ask.
“How’s the dynamic with Oscar this year?” “How’s the car?” “Do you think you can defend your title?” “Do you think Oscar is back this year for redemption?” “What did you get up to on holiday?” “You were spotted skiing with your friends, how was that” “What do you think of the new regulations?”
“Welcome back to everyone watching Formula 1 on Sky Sports! We have defending World Champion Lando Norris with us on the mic right now. Lando, how do you feel going into the 2026 season with the new regulations?” The interviewer asks him.
Lando sighs, and answers.
“Look, I really don’t know what to expect. It’s all new to me, to the team, to everyone. I’m gonna take it one race at a time this year as always. Last year’s season was amazing, and whilst I know the car isn’t going to be up there for a repeat performance just yet, we’ve just gotta do the work to make sure it can go back to winning ways at least by the second half of the season. Obviously, there’s also Oscar giving feedback on the car, and the parts and all of that stuff, which helps. So, yeah, very, very excited to be back and thank you to the fans for all the support going into this race weekend!”
“Lando, you mentioned Oscar just then. How is your teammate dynamic right now after the championship fight last year?”
Lando knew this question would come.
“I haven’t seen Oscar today yet, but I’m sure that we are fine. We left for our holidays on good terms and I know he’s not one to hold grudges. Oscar’s an amazing teammate and I’m very grateful that we get another season together. What are we, one of the longest pairings on the grid now? Crazy.” He chuckles.
The interviewer seems satisfied with his answer as he moves on.
“Do you think you can defend your title this year?”
Lando laughs before he answers. “If the testing is anything to go off, I reckon Mercedes or Ferrari will thrive first. But of course, with the amazing team of talented engineers that we have here we will adapt quickly and hopefully score some wins by the second half. As far as my title goes- geez! First race hasn’t even started yet, guys, come on! But yeah, as I’ve mentioned before, just looking to relax a little.”
“Thank you Lando! See you later. Max! Max, can we interview you?”
As the interviewer chases down Max Verstappen, Lando walks back to the McLaren motorhome to wait for Oscar for their content. A TV is streaming Oscar’s current live interview with ESPN in the paddock, and Lando stops to watch.
He never watches any of the others’ press interviews unless they come up on his for you page, or they’re talking about him or something that happened on the track. But he decides to stop and watch Oscar’s interview anyways.
Lando has many great friends on the grid. He has George and Alex, his fellow 2019 rookies. He has Carlos too. Off track, he has Max Fewtrell, Keegan, and the Quadrant group. But he and Oscar Piastri weren’t besties. After being teammates for 4 years, you would think him and Oscar were good friends.
Aside from the media, posting, socials, sponsorships and race weekends, he and Oscar are merely just friends. They only hang out when they are both in Monaco, and they don’t text all that often.
Lando secretly wishes he could be better friends with Oscar. He knows maintaining a professional relationship is good for the team, for the media and for them, but he does secretly wish they were closer. For some reason unbeknownst to him, he could never live with himself if he and Oscar were ever arguing or on bad terms. Abu Dhabi last year was not easy.
After the intense intra-team title fight with Oscar last year the fact they didn’t end on bad terms should be a good sign that whatever they have is strong.
And in some circumstances last year, he found himself relying on Oscar more often than not. A handshake, a hug every so often would always make him feel better. Lando didn’t know why.
He watches through the screen as Oscar answers a question from the ESPN interviewer.
“How is your relationship with Lando this year, Oscar? Any grudges?”
“Haha. No, I would say it’s even better than last year. After the title fight, I’m ready just to turn over a new leaf and go into the 2026 season refreshed. So yeah, I’d say we’re good. Obviously no hard feelings or anything.”
Lando smiles upon hearing that. He’s glad Oscar feels the same way.
A couple of minutes later, Lando turns around to see Oscar.
“Oscar! Hey!” He smiles wide, extending his arm for a handshake.
“Hi Lando! Great to see you again. Going to film stuff?” Oscar greets him with a warm smile, shaking his hand.
They walk together to Louise, who has a couple of cameras up and ready with the filming crew.
~
As they pack up to leave after filming the videos, Lando turns to Oscar.
“Hey. Do you maybe wanna go grab dinner?”
Oscar blinks at him.
“Dinner?”
Lando shrugs, combing his hand through his hair.
“Yeah, I dunno, I was just thinking we could go out and eat together? First race of the year, your home race, you know? I mean, of course, if you don’t want to, it’s fine. Actually it’s fine, you probably have your family or something-”
“No,” Oscar cuts Lando off in the middle of his nervous ramble. “Let’s have dinner. Do you have a spot, or should I pick one?”
Lando almost sank to the floor with relief. He didn’t know why he was so nervous. This was just Oscar, right?
An hour later, they found themselves tucked into a quiet corner of a dimly lit Italian restaurant a few streets away from the hotel they were staying at.
In the back corner, they were almost unrecognisable and away from the Australian press and general public. The waiters had done a double take, but apart from that, everyone else in the restaurant was minding their own business. It was the perfect spot for two famous formula 1 drivers to eat dinner without being stampeded by fans.
This was also the first time Lando and Oscar had properly sat down together to have dinner and not talk about tire degradation or analyse data sheets.
Lando supposed it would be weird to start talking about strategy or something now. But he didn’t know what else to say, and so the awkward silence filled the void between the two teammates.
They sat opposite each other, reading the menu in silence. Well, Lando was pretending to read the menu. He already knew he wanted to order the carbonara.
I guess I should start making conversation now… he thought to himself.
“So,” he starts, “What are you thinking?”
Oscar looks up from the menu. “I was thinking of getting the penne bolognese. You?”
“Carbonara.”
“So it would be a great idea for me to order a nice big platter of fish, right?” Oscar winks.
“Mr Piastri, you don’t even get to joke about this. I’m going to have a word with Louise, who will perhaps give you some extra videos to film. I’m sure you would absolutely love that!” Lando retorts jokingly.
The waitress returns to their table. As Oscar orders for the two of them, Lando sneaks a glance at Oscar subtly. It’s been ages since he’s properly looked at his teammate.
He looked normal. He had never noticed the slight traces of muscle under his shirt, nor had he noticed Oscar’s hair growing throughout the Christmas break to settle into a swoop on his forehead.
“You look good.” He says before he even has time to take those words back.
Oscar’s eyebrows raise slightly before replying, “Not so bad yourself, Lando.”
Oscar pours water for the two of them into their glasses.
“Thanks. How was your holiday?” Lando asks him.
“Good. Went up to the gold coast and spent some time with friends and family. Yeah, it was nice. You?”
“Went skiing with some friends.”
“Ah.”
Silence again.
More quietly this time, Oscar asks, “So. Number 1, hm?”
Lando blushes a little before replying.
“Yeah mate, it’s crazy. Still haven’t processed it yet. Signed so many LN1 hats today in the paddock though, it’s kinda surreal.”
Oscar nods. Silence fills the air again. Luckily, their orders arrive, so the pair thank the waiter before digging into their meals, using eating to cover up the awkward silence between them.
“Are we good?” Lando blurts out. Truthfully, this question had been nagging at him for ages, and he just needed to hear a truthful answer from Oscar. Not the media-polished one he gave to the press earlier today.
Oscar looks up from his bowl of bolognese. “Wha?- oh. Yeah? I mean, I never imagined we wouldn’t be?”
“Oh. That’s good. Just cause, you know..”
“Oh. Yeah. I’ve kind of moved on from that. You can only spend so many days sulking the loss of a world championship before you can properly enjoy your holiday. Besides, it’s a new season, I don’t want to bring some old beef back. Except maybe at Alpine.”
Lando smiles. “That’s good to hear. Really.”
“No worries. You won the championship instead of Max, how could I be mad? I’m happy for you, you deserved it. And you’re still my teammate, Lando. I’m not going to stay salty at you for being the better driver. Truly. Don’t worry about it.”
Lando nods. So this really was just me being insecure again, damn it.
Oscar raises his water glass at Lando. “Here’s to 2026?”
Lando raises his glass too. “Here’s to the new season, mate. I’m happy we’re still a team. Look at us cheers-ing with water.”
They laugh together, digging back into their pastas.
~
They walk side by side back to the hotel, entering the lift.
“We should do this more often.” Oscar says, glancing at Lando.
“Dinner?”
“No, I meant chatting. We rarely do that outside of racing and it’s been, what, 4 years of us as teammates now?”
“Sure. Why not?” Lando replies, smiling. “Tonight was fun.”
As he steps out of the lift, Lando says to Oscar briefly, “Good luck. Home race, it’s special.”
“Thanks. Night, Lando.”
“Night, Oscar.”
~
Lando is greeted at the paddock entrance by the McLaren media admin. He’s surrounded by shutters clicking, mics dangling in the air, and the Australian crowd cheering, a sea of papaya.
The paddock is buzzing as usual, with mechanics rushing around and doing last minute tweaks to the car. As Lando gets suited up and ready to be in his car, he gives Oscar a quick handshake and thumbs up, and goes back to talk to Will about logistics.
The first practice session of the season kicks off 2026.
“And the first free practice of 2026 is underway!” Jolyon Palmer shouts from the commentary box, followed by the screaming of the crowd in the stands.
Lando feels the rush of adrenaline, and he realises how much he truly has missed racing the entire holidays. Whilst the simulator was nice, nothing would ever compare to the feeling of being inside a real car, hearing the engine roaring, and flying across the track. There was only one word to describe this. Euphoria.
“Lando, yellow flag, Oscar’s got no power, he’s going a bit slowly.”
“Is he okay?”
“Yep. Carry on please.”
Lando couldn’t help but feel sorry for Oscar. His home race, first hour of the entire season, and he is already being struck by power issues. He sighs inside the car.
Seven laps go by.
“Box, box.”
“Why?”
“Gearbox check, something could be wrong.”
“Fuck.” he breathes into his helmet.
As the session concludes, Lando watches from the pit wall as they wheel Oscar’s car in. P6 for Oscar, P19 for Lando.
He had already discussed what was happening with Will as they took apart his car, and he would be ready for FP2. But for right now, all the team had was the data Oscar had collected.
A couple of hours later, Lando and Oscar rolled out for FP2.
“Nice job mate. That was a good flier. Some good data, we’ll review it later. You can box now.”
“Copy that, boxing.”
As he stepped out of the car, Lando could hear rapturous applause amongst the Aussie crowd. And then he hears it. An interviewer at the media pen, screaming into the microphone.
“OSCAR PIASTRI TOPS FREE PRACTICE TWO WITH A TWO-TENTHS BUFFER OVER MERCEDES AND KIMI ANTONELLI!”
The Melbourne crowd is absolutely ecstatic. As Lando looked around, he could see everyone in papaya shirts and green OP81 shirts clapping and screaming.
He smiles for his teammate.
~
Free Practice 3 and Qualifying passed in a blur. P5 for Oscar and P6 for Lando would be the starting order for the race.
“Yeah, not an ideal spot to start a home race given the momentum we had in free practice 2, but Mercedes and Ferrari are really outpacing us right now,” Oscar huffs into his mic, “I’ll see what I can do.”
~
First race day of the season. The atmosphere in Albert Park was absolutely incredible. Engineers rushed around, media teams and cameras filmed every move, and fans met Lando at every entrance. Signing a few caps, he walks into the garage ready to talk to Will. He spots Oscar on the other side, concentrating on some data sheets from qualifying.
Oscar’s hair was fluffy, catching the light of the Australian sun. His brows furrowed as he concentrated deeply on his data, and Lando noted that he seemed nervous, almost a first for the stone cold Aussie ‘iceman’. He decides to walk over to him.
“Hey Oscar. Good luck out there mate. They’ll be proud of you no matter what.”
“Thanks, Lando. You too.”
Their interaction was cut short, Oscar diverting his concentration fully back to whatever data or strategies he was looking at.
Eventually, it was race time. Lando drove his car to the grid to slot into P6 ready for the formation lap. Oscar’s car was missing from its P5 slot. Could it be a pit lane start?
“Lando, Oscar has spun off the track and crashed. He will not be racing. Head down and concentrate, please.”
“Shit.”
What the fuck? Oscar crashed on his way to the grid? Lando shakes his head inside the cockpit at the sheer impossibility of it. In a matter of seconds, Oscar’s home race win bid was over, in the worst way possible. DNS.
~
P5 in Australia. Good points for McLaren. It wasn’t bad, given his fights with Max Verstappen towards the end, and Oscar’s DNS.
Oscar.
As Lando makes his way through the paddock back to the garage, he sees Oscar’s crash replaying on a nearby television. He stops to watch, holding his breath.
Oscar had lost control exiting Turn 4, and spun off into the barriers. More clips played his crash from different angles. Clips of people in the crowd staring absolutely dumbfounded. A clip of Oscar trudging off the track, escorted out by an Alpine worker, his helmet still on.
Lando hadn’t realised he was holding his breath. He swore he was dreaming. He slowly makes his way back to McLaren again, wondering how to talk to Oscar after something like this happens to him.
He had no clue how Oscar would act when he walked back to the garage to see the team, but he hadn’t expected this.
Oscar was laughing. He was smiling the widest grins he’d ever smiled, exaggerating his movements like he was acting in a play, and laughing. After a home race DNS.
Lando walks over to Will.
“Is Oscar okay?”
“Yeah mate, he’s laughing and everything. He’ll be fine. Don’t worry about him. Solid race out there though, useful points.”
“Mhm.”
Lando nods. But he knows Oscar isn’t okay. Being teammates with him for the fourth year now, he knows Oscar is smiling and laughing too much. Oscar doesn’t even laugh like this when he wins races, let alone crashes.
He decides he’s overthinking, and starts talking to all his engineers, debriefing the race and analysing data to help the team in the next race, Shanghai. Next week.
As he completes his post-race duties and meetings, Lando spots Oscar alone outside the Mclaren motorhome, sitting slumped against the wall, staring into the distance. He decides to walk up to him and sit down next to him, silent.
A few minutes go by, and Lando finally breaks the silence.
“Shit weekend.”
Oscar exhales loudly. “That’s one way to put it.”
“You good?” Lando asks.
“I will be. It’s just- just- I don’t fucking know, Lando, I’m as good as a home race dns will get you,” he says. Oscar’s face is expressionless.
“Mate, it’s okay to not be okay right now. You’ll have next year. We’ll probably have a better car then too.”
“Do you even get it? My whole country shows up to support me, they buy tickets to my grandstand, they buy my home race merch, and I can’t even start the fucking race! How is that fair!??” Oscar says, raising his voice slightly.
“No one said it was fair, Oscar.”
“No, Lando. I’lll never live this down. The media is having a fucking field day right now. I- I can’t.” Oscar’s voice begins to crack, raw at the edges.
“Oscar-”
“Will you stop talking and just- just.”
“Just what?”
Oscar sighs. “I don’t know. I don’t fucking know, okay?!”
They sit in silence for a few beats.
“Why did it have to happen here of all places? Why did I crash? How am I that fucking stupid?! Lando, how am I that fucking stupid???” Oscar whispers.
Lando doesn’t say anything. He doesn't know what to say. Instead, he reaches his arm over and slings it around Oscar’s shoulders, pulling him into a side hug. His hand squeezes Oscar’s shoulders.
They sit like that in silence for what feels like hours to Lando.
Lando finally speaks.
“You’re not stupid. It could have happened to anyone.”
Oscar looks at him, and finally returns his hug.
“Thanks mate. Thank you.”
“All good. Don’t worry about it. Everyone will probably forget about it by Monaco or Hungary or something,” Lando grins. He gives Oscar a wink. “I’m tired, and we’re due to fly to Shanghai tomorrow. Let’s go back to the hotel. Come on.”
He helps Oscar up and they grab their belongings and make their way back to the Hilton.
As Lando steps off the lift onto his floor, he turns around to face Oscar again.
“You sure you’re good?”
“I’m good. Don’t worry about me. Night, Lando.”
“Night, Oscar.”
The elevator doors close, and Lando walks to his room.
He doesn’t know what has come over him, but his desire to comfort Oscar, side- hug Oscar, make sure he was okay, had thrown every rational thought out of his brain when he had spotted him sitting slumped against the wall, completely defeated. Twenty minutes later, alone in his hotel room, Lando can still feel Oscar’s weight slumped against him, the ghost of their hug burning his arms.