The Team // A Formula One AU

Lance

We didn't even notice their disappearance.

Everyone quickly got too tired for football, deciding twelve hours on the bus from hell is enough to warrant a bit of a rest. Most of us lie in the grass, soaking up the atmosphere of New York. Fernando dragged his gang of Nico, Sebastian and Checo straight to the Empire State Building, Nikita walked off on his own and Kimi went for a run. So did Esteban, but he set off in the opposite direction.

The rest of us are together.

"When did Tom say he wanted us back at the hostel?"

"Not sure, do we have any plans for tonight?"

"Where even is he?"

"Wait they're... They're all gone?"

Mick frowns sternly, staring at the bench where we last saw Erik and Weird Old Phil. Peter probably went straight to the track, but Tom and the others? They're meant to watch over us. They always watch over us.

"Maybe we're meant to meet them at the hostel?" Valtteri offers from the grass me. I swear I don't mean to follow him around, but he's still the only person on the team who I regularly talk to. Plus sharing a room with him means I know him better than most on the team.

"Surely he would have said something about that..." Daniel mutters. Lewis fidgets in his spot, restless from the uncertainty and being away from Kimi. They seem to have a similar partnership to myself and Val, so I guess he has separation anxiety.

"We should go back to the hostel and see if they're there. If not..."

"If not then we can paint the bus."

I turn to look at Max, who's been silent throughout the whole confusion. Carlos laughs, but it quickly becomes clear that it wasn't a joke.

"What do you mean, 'paint the bus'? What colour?"

"Yellow, obviously, it's a school bus. But right now it looks a hundred years old."

"That is a good idea, actually..."

They've split into groups before I can raise my obvious concerns. All thoughts of finding the adults have gone out of the window with Charles, Pierre and Yuki being sent to buy paint while Mick escalates the plan to include repairing some of the parts which make life on the bus so unbearable. Before I know it, Lewis and I are the only ones not marching away on some insane mission.

I catch up to Daniel and clear my throat. Have I ever said anything to Daniel before?

"What are you... I mean what are we going to do?"

Daniel grins and puts an arm around my shoulder as if we've had a million conversations.

"We need to clean the bus before we can paint it. Luckily I saw a hose when we pulled up."

"Great," I nod. Cleaning the bus sounds safe, at least.

"Tom won't be able to believe his eyes. Don't worry, it'll be a nice surprise."

On the contrary, my worries return tenfold when we get to the hostel and don't find the adults waiting for us. I had somehow hoped they'd be here, they'd tell us this plan is stupid and that we need to head out to eat before bed. But they don't. There's nobody to stop us.

Daniel takes charge of the hose while the rest of us get changed to work. I'm the last to reappear outside, having taken too long to decide whether I'd rather ruin my old Williams t-shirt or the one my dad bought me in Mexico. I end up with Williams.

"Hey, that's a piece of British history!" George complains when he sees my painting outfit. The paint has arrived, six big tins along with a handful of thick paintbrushes, most of which have already been claimed.