Gasoline ~ Daniel Ricciardo

05| Carpool

Portugal airport was beautiful, and hot. I was stood in the centre of the arrivals lounge after getting through all of the tedious security checks, and I was scanning across the faces in front of me with the hopes of seeing someone I knew, someone else that I could stand and chat with until I got a text from Christian, but instead I got a phone call from him, his smiling face filling my screen as I wiped the sleep from my eyes.

"Hey," I greeted, and leant against the wall which I'd plugged my phone into, "Is someone picking me up?" I asked him and heard him clear his throat awkwardly.

Christian clearing his throat was never good, "So, us and McLaren have had an issue with rental cars and the hotels." He started and I sighed angrily, "All we have is two double rooms, now I'm fine to get you another one at a seperate hotel, but even that will be a few days," he gave me the bad news and I tapped my converse onto the floor.

"Just tell me who I'm sharing a room with." I deadpanned and observed the busy lounge in front. Most of these were probably here for the race, but hadn't recognised me leant against the wall - that or they didn't want photos with me.

He flicked through some papers on his desk, "Ryan Bradford with... one sec-" he flipped through some more papers whilst my eyes locked on to a familiar looking hoodie, "You're with Daniel Ricciardo," He told me and at the very same time he said my rival's name, he turned towards me, also on the phone and looking equally as shocked. "The car rental is under your name and you're sharing it with him for the weekend,"

"Like hell I am!" I protested and grabbed my suitcase, "Just because you guys screwed up-" I blurted out and Christian just put up with it.

I heard someone approaching me whilst Christian continued to talk at me, "Best case scenario is that this is only for one night, worst case is-"

"Yeah, Race week, I know." I muttered and turned to face the person approaching me. I was surprised to see a small child stood in front of me, hugging her teddy and looking up at me, "I'll call you back," I hung up on Christian and noticed (who I assumed to be) her parents stood a few metres back.

"Photo?" The small creature asked me and my heart went from full of anger to bursting in love. Kids are so pure and I just want to protect them from all the bad in this world. I nodded and pulled off my sunglasses when her parents pulled out their phones to get a photo of us together.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" I asked and smiled for the photo.

She giggled, "I'm Ryan,"

My heart swelled with this weird, bizarre emotion at meeting someone with my name and I looked at her parents who smiled so wide their faces must've hurt. They named her after me. My phone was buzzing in my pocket but instead of answering, I offered them my number should they be around the paddock, and wished them well.

"Bonjour, Ryan speaking," I answered the phone in French and heard the person on the other end clear their throat awkwardly, "Hey, this is Ryan," I said, and grabbed my suitcase.

"It's Daniel." He said, "I've got the car and I'm waiting - well - outside," he stumbled over his words almost flawlessly and I rolled my eyes.

Why did this have to happen, especially after the last race, "I'm on my way... can you route in a supermarket, I need to buy some stuff before we get to the room?" I asked him and dashed into the cool Portuguese night air. The sun had only just begun to rise, crimson and pink bleeding across the horizon, and I had stepped maybe three feet out of the door when a horn beeped, and Daniel waved me over.

Without even having to ask, he instantly opened the car's boot, and I walked around the back of the Renault to find his bags taking up most of the space, with his driver shoes being strewn atop the rest. I looked at him in the rear-view mirror, my face void of any emotions, and crushed his stuff to equate to half of the boot, before sliding mine into the empty slot. I hadn't realised until I was about to get into the car that I was wearing the hoodie he gave me in Italy.