Against You

Biscuit

Lando POV

The summer break has been boring. At first I enjoyed it, I relished the opportunity not to have to see Oscar every day, not to have to listen to his annoying voice and his irritating laugh all the time. But then I got restless. I streamed on Twitch, I visited my family across the country, I went karting with old friends and even had a night out in London, but now I'm jittery. I miss racing, so one fresh Tuesday morning I fire up my McLaren and head to the MTC.

My smile fades when I notice Oscar's car in the car park. Shall I slit his tyres? Open my door into his bodywork? Disconnect the wires that lead to the headlights?

I push my hands into my pockets and stride towards the building. That would all be too obvious.

Inside, the place is quieter than it has been since pre-season. No pit crews training, nobody on the simulator, and no Grace or Zak Brown forcing me to do things I don't want to do. I wander around the atrium, marvelling at the beautiful classic cars and historic racers McLaren have collected throughout the year.

"Lando Norris! What are you doing here?"

I don't recognise the person who calls my name. They aren't in McLaren uniform and a little way behind I see a salesperson scuttling in high heels to keep up with her client. The man must have come to buy a car, and an expensive one too, seeing as he's getting the full tour.

"I thought I'd duck in and see how the team's doing," I smile, doing my part for the brand.

"Can I get a photo?" the big man asks. I agree and the salesperson takes the photo on her phone as the man puts his arm around me and makes a thumbs up. "Thanks! Can I ask you a question?"

My stomach twists. "Sure."

"Do you and Oscar Piastri really not get on, or is it all an act?"

My face flushes. Exactly the kind of question I don't want to be answering right now. I think back to the meeting with Zak Brown. Sweep it all under the rug.

"Oscar and I have a good working relationship. We're teammates, not best friends, but there's no bad blood between us," I lie. All of his blood is bad.

"Well it sure looks real," the guy laughs. "I wouldn't be surprised if you'd run each other off the road by the end of the season!"

I chuckle nervously and the salesperson mercifully whisks her client away from me. Note to self: stop engaging with members of the public one-on-one.

I decide to get lunch at the canteen for old time's sake, even if the place is deserted. I choose a healthy sandwich and pasta and pay at the till before turning my tray towards the window. But someone is already sitting at my favourite table.

Oscar Piastri.

I simmer quietly. I love the way the summer sunlight hits my face when I sit there. I love watching the shallow waves move across the lake as cars come and go beneath me. Now Oscar is watching them. Now Oscar is yellow in sunlight.

That's just my luck. Only two people in this entire canteen, and one of them is Oscar Piastri. I sit at the opposite end of the room beside the bins.

After a while spent staring at my phone instead of the beautiful trees which surround the car park, Oscar stands up. I trace his movements, cap pulled low over my face in the hopes he won't notice me. He walks past, drops his tray in the correct place and skips off downstairs. What is he doing here? Using the gym?

I glance over at my usual table, wondering if it's worth moving over there to eat the last two bites of my pasta. That's when I notice the dark grey shape lying under the chair. Oscar forgot his bag.