The Team // A Formula One AU

Charles

"You're like... A hurricane," I say to Lando from my den in the corner of my bed.

"Is that good?" he asks, furrowing his brow and placing a card on the floor on top of Daniel's.

"No no no, put it on your card, upside down. I know what it is now!" the Australian says and bats Lando's hand frustratedly.

"Yeah, it's a good thing. You're fast, wildly unpredictable and massively destructive," I reply.

"And that's good for what, exactly?" Max says from the bunk above my head. I hear him shifting then a pack of gummy worms falls down the gap between the bed and the wall, onto my head and into my blanket fort.

"Thanks, Max."

"My friends shall never want for anything," he says and throws a packet down at George.

"No! How many times do I have to tell you? I am so done with this game Lando you are so bad at learning." I watch Daniel scrape up all his cards and turn to sit leaning against Mick's bed, putting them back in order.

"Did I win?" Lando jokes happily. Daniel shoots him a sarcastic sneer and Lando rolls onto George's bed, giggling like a four year old.

"What're you doing?!" George asks him, pulling his Nintendo DS away.

"I wanna play," Lando says, shoving his head between George's and the screen.

"Go away!"

"Hey Sparkplug, come over here," Mick says to try to relieve George. Lando goes and curiously inspects the magazine Mick is reading.

"What is it?" he asks.

"It's the Red Bull Ring. Have you ever been?"

Lando snatches it by the page and runs over to Carlos' bunk to show him excitedly. "This is where you went! I wanna go can we go I want to go right–"

"You made me lose!" George yells just as we hear footsteps outside. Not again.

We all race into our beds at the speed of sound and Alex slaps off the light. We barely breathe.

"What's going on in there?" Tom's voice comes through the door. "It's nearly eleven, you need your rest before tomorrow." He doesn't open it and eventually we hear him moving away. The light clicks back on.

"What does he even do in his spare time? It's like he's got nothing better to do than patrol the corridors," I say to break the silence.

"Well during the day he does team principal things I guess."

"Like what, sticking our numbers on the cars?" Max scoffs and Lando bursts back into giggles. I laugh too and stuff a gummy worm into my mouth to try and keep quiet.

"And setting up the timing board, and fixing the barriers."

"Isn't that what Weird Old Phil's for?"

"No, his job is to strike fear into the hearts of the watching crowds."

"Like a mascot."

"Maybe he'll do the Haka before qualifying tomorrow."

"Or maybe he'll be a cheerleader."

Now we're all either on the floor laughing or have our heads buried so deep in duvets we might suffocate.

I gasp in enough air to listen to George, which is not a good idea.

"Five, six, seven, eight, with me dancing we'll win the race, four, three, two, one, my comb-over is second to none, haggis rules, hooray!"

Max hoots and topples out of his bed, landing on the floor beside me and groaning as he wipes tears of laughter from his eyes. I get up and help him to his feet.

"I'm fine, I'm okay," he says.

"Good, we wouldn't want Weird Old Phil to have to give you the kiss of life."

"God, no."

We eventually return to bed and lie thinking of comb-overs, finally trying to get some sleep before tomorrow's qualifying. Max settles firmly in his bed, but there are only a few moments of silence before Charles makes another joke.

"What in the name of St Andrew..."