Against You

Lando

Lando POV

"Lando?"

Oscar's voice echoed in my empty garage, the sound of his footsteps growing ever closer.

"You're not supposed to be in here." I rushed over, trying to block him from coming any closer to my car. My engineers and mechanics had gone to lunch but I'd decided to stay back, playing some stupid game with screws on the ground.

"Who cares?" Oscar laughed. He was the same height as me despite being two years younger, and he was twice as chaotic too. Being friends with Oscar Piastri meant getting into trouble every other day, so I wasn't surprised when he didn't care about these rules either.

"What do you want?" I asked. "We aren't supposed to talk to each other on race days."

"What, because your dad doesn't like it? Alex's garage is unlocked and there's nobody in there."

"And?"

"Want to go mess with his car?"

"Are you crazy?" I raised my voice. "That could be really dangerous."

"Okay, not the car then. But maybe we could find some of his possessions and dump them at the side of the road."

"I thought you liked Alex?"

"Yeah, that's what makes it so funny."

I bit my lip but quickly decided anything was better than having Oscar peer around my own garage before qualifying. We emerged outside into the chilly British autumn and he immediately set off towards Alex's garage.

We snuck through the paddock like mini spies, ducking behind boxes and rolling beneath barriers. I laughed despite getting my new coat dirty. Oscar knew how to have fun in a way that I didn't.

Then we reached Alex's garage.

"Oscar, wait. Maybe we shouldn't."

He turned to face me, big brown eyes glistening with tears. Of course they were fake, anyone could see that with the smirk half-visible beneath his childish frown. But nobody would say no when he made that face. He was a young racer, a child, halfway across the world from his family and friends and culture. You just had to pity him.

"Fine," I squeaked, chewing on my lip. "But what are we actually going to do in there?"

"We'll see it when we see it," he grinned.

When Oscar had said the garage was left open, he'd meant one tiny segment of the huge front entrance hadn't been secured down to the ground, leaving a small hole where a young man could hypothetically fit through.

"You can't be serious."

"The serious-est."

He disappeared through the hole, and I looked quickly in both directions before following him with a groan.

Alex's garage was exactly the same as mine, and probably Oscar's too. But the young Oscar looked around as if in a magic palace made of cake, where everything was interesting and exciting and new. While I wrung my hands together and jumped at every small noise, he perfected his plan.

A deafening clanging caused me to stifle a scream.

"What are you doing?" I hissed, striding towards him.

"Help me. I'm using these spanners to write something on the bench."

"Write what?"

"Alex stinks."

My heart thumped like marching drum as our little hands worked quickly to spell the words. Oscar had tipped out more than enough spanners to complete the job, and it's the noise he made replacing them that got us caught.

"Hey! Who's in there?"

The adults chased us half the length of the paddock before giving up. We crouched behind a hot dog stand, breathing heavily and doubled over with laughter, for fifteen minutes until we were sure nobody would suspect us. We thought we'd gotten away with it, but looking back it was obvious it was us. We never got in trouble though, so I still remember that as one of the most exciting moments of my Formula Four career.