Against You

The Meeting

Lando POV

It's nice to have a week off from racing, from travelling around the globe and from having to see that psychopath Oscar, but I still set off for the MTC after four days of video games and streaming. I feel crazy driving to work on my week off, but I hope it'll be more interesting than sitting at home replaying all the stupid things that have happened this season. I decided not to report the steam room incident. I don't need any more negative attention.

I'm accosted as soon as I walk through the door.

Grace grabs me first and makes me model new merchandise for the website. Then Dan drags me to the lab to get my thoughts on some 3D models and statistics I can hardly understand. When I'm about to go for lunch, the pit crew take me to their training room to get my opinion on a new tactic they want to try and ask whether I could park the car in the pit box slightly differently.

I don't want to go to the canteen after all that, despite feeling starved. I know I'll run into more people desperate for my help with something. It's important to help the team, but it is my week off.

My phone dings as an email pops up. My heart flutters. It's from Zak Brown.

Come to my office at 4pm.

This can't be good news.

I spend the afternoon in the simulator. It goes by anxiously: testing, feedback, testing, feedback, snack break, testing, feedback. Finally it's four o'clock and I'm dragging my feet to the office. I think I know what this will be about. I'm surprised to hear someone following me.

"What are you doing here?" Oscar Piastri asks as he catches up.

Surprise ripples over my skin as the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. This cannot be good.

"I have a meeting," I say cautiously. "Don't tell me you're invited too."

Oscar confirms my fears and I note the shakiness in his voice. I take a deep breath as I put my hand on the door, every nerve firing with anxiety. I push it open.

"Sit down," Zak Brown growls, not turning around when we enter. He stares out over the lake and the forest while Oscar and I sit down on green leather chairs. We don't speak and we don't move.

"I'll give you one guess why you've both been called in here. Or actually, I won't. Because we're all damn well aware why."

He prowls from the window to his seat behind the huge mahogany desk, hot eyes trailing over us. I shrink in my chair, but Oscar cowers.

"Do you have any idea how much money, blood, sweat and tears have been poured into this year's car? Do you have any respect for the men and women who have made it their life's passion to get you two idiots to the top of the table?"

I open my mouth to protest but one glare from Zak Brown stops me immediately.

"You can't even be in the same room as each other, let alone be race partners. Do you understand that this team doesn't need either of you if you're going to be acting like ten-year-old karters? You're Formula One Drivers! I don't care what bad blood exists between you, you are ruining the reputation of this company. Ferrari have overtaken us in the championship because you can't see eye to eye. Stop being so selfish and put the team first! Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir," I nod and Oscar nods too.

"You've got one more chance. One more misstep, and you'll both be packing your suitcases. Don't ruin any more of my races!"

"I'm sorry."

"You had better be. If Ferrari take this championship from us because you two hate each other, then neither of you will be driving for McLaren next year. Do I make myself clear?"