The Team // A Formula One AU

Esteban

I'm just not feeling it. We're all getting fitter by the day, we all do our psychological exercises, our gym regimes and our healthy eating, I don't see why we need to train so much. It's feels like overkill, stupid and tiring.

"ESTEBAN!" I look up from the grass I was inspecting as the ball comes to me. That's another thing, why are we always playing football? I know it's a team game, and we're meant to be a team, but... I'm not feeling it today.

The pass is far too hard. I let it go off the edge of the pitch and get yelled at by my team. It's not my fault Checo can't kick straight.

Max comes over, face lined with anger.

"Seeing as you can't be bothered move, it's now a corner. So I suggest you get back and actually try to defend for once before we go another goal down."

I glare at his back as he runs to mark Mick and I walk towards the goal as slowly as possible. It's nearly lunchtime anyway, this won't last much longer.

Daniel scores from a header I could've intercepted and I smile secretly. That's what you get when you don't ask nicely.

"Erik, Esteban's not trying can we please have someone different?" Max asks and I feel mildly annoyed and mildly relieved.

"Yeah, uh, let me think who there is. Oh, I think Phil's free about now, would you rather have him?"

Max gives Erik sneer and the game restarts. I shuffle about until Tom calls us in and I get all the sour glares as we trudge to the edge of the pitch for a water break. My favourite time of day. I get some orange slices from my bag and sit down in my own clear space. It's not that I'm unsociable, just that I'm the first one here. I listen to other people's conversations as they form their own groups.

"Why is he so useless all of a sudden?" Nico mutters to some of his friends.

"I don't know, I think he might just be tired."

"What, from all his beauty sleep?"

They stop talking when they see me staring and carry on when they gather together in a tight circle. Occasionally they glance at me but I ignore it.

We soon have to get back on the pitch to resume training and I don't feel much more enthusiastic after a drink and a snack. Erik forces us to take free kicks and our team gets stuck with defence. Why does a professional driver need to learn to take a free kick? I'd rather be exploring the city and buying American clothes or branded tat.

"Esteban. Please, please, try," Checo begs me with his hands clasped as I half-heartedly move to stand next to him in the wall. I don't respond and he turns away.

"Okay, go," Erik says when he's happy with our formation and Nando takes the kick. I jump but it goes over us and towards the goal. People attack the ball but Max heads it away and I see my chance for revenge. I run for the ball and kick it as hard as I can towards the goal. It curls perfectly and... Hits Charles in the face. He falls over and I fight back a smile.

"Esteban, what the hell was that!?" Max comes up to me, livid.

"I just forgot what team I was on."

He looks at me incredulously and I turn away to look back at Charles. He's still on the ground and Erik is tending to him amidst the crowd. Weird Old Phil jogs over with a first aid kit and for the first time I feel like I maybe shouldn't have done that. As they sit him up I see his bruised cheek and bloody nose. He looks at me with piercing eyes. Oops.

"You did that on purpose," Lando says and my heart sinks as I realise it's true. It's one thing to have Max and Checo angry at you but when Lando's angry you know you've done something bad. I've done something really bad.

I go behind the goal to have a drink of water, trying to ignore the weight of the silence and Charles' eyes boring into me. This isn't something I can just apologise for, so I keep quiet and let time tell how bad the situation is.