THE END | Oscar Piastri

21. lost in the memory

Oscar's pov

Starting from sixth on the grid definitely wasn't the perfect situation.

I could've been starting higher up, maybe if I had just pushed the car a little more I would've been able to.

Or maybe if I hadn't been so distracted the entire time, I also could've done better.

Elaine's been in a terrible mood since Thursday. I'm unsure why, and she continues to insist she's fine when she very visibly isn't.

It's all I could think about the whole session. Wondering if I had done something wrong, then assuming I had, then trying to figure out what that something was. It was taking a large portion of my concentration, and I hadn't even realized it until I was given a black and white flag for going off too many times.

I had gone from sixth to fighting with George for a third place when the many cars ahead of us pulled into the pits.

It's a wheel to wheel fight right up to the first corner, where I brake late and get ahead of him.

Again, a wheel to wheel fight through the long curving turn of the third corner.

He's on the inside into turn four, and catches my back tyre with his front one.

The both of us go off, neither of us having any chance of staying on the track, cars completely out of our control from the contact of our wheels.

Through the adrenaline, I hadn't realized Tom's concerned voice over the radio, continuously asking me if I was alright.

I reach for the radio button. "Yeah, I'm alright. Sorry guys." I speak finally, my tone an emotionless void, contrasting my disappointed and annoyed thoughts.

If I could've just gotten that p3 and maintained it through the remaining laps. A podium was right in my sights. Points for the team, too.

A marshal in a neon orange uniform comes to collect me from the scene, impatiently motioning for me to get out of the car. When I do, George makes an obvious rush to catch up with me as I walk off the track.

I had expected an attack to come from him, given his reputation, but it didn't follow. "Mate I'm so sorry. I thought I had more room than I did." He apologized. I don't face him, but I can tell shock make itself very evident across my face, features contorting themselves. I fix it before I look to him, muttering words that brush off his apology.

Everyone is already back into the pits when I get back, the race having to be red flagged in order to rescue the wrecked hunks of carbon fiber from the track.

I walk through the pit lane, a faint calling of my name can be heard but I'm sure it's just my imagination. The pressure of a hand is placed around my bicep, squeezing gently to keep me from walking any further.

I turn to the culprit with wide eyes, only to discover a familiar blonde at the other end. "Jeez are you deaf? I called your name about three times." She says, bent over slightly as she tries to catch her breath. The Williams garage is halfway down the pit lane.

Stopped in front of Alpine's garage, the mechanics peer at us skeptically. A few even send harsh glares my way.

I grab onto her other wrist, the one that isn't being used to firmly grasp my upper arm. She seems startled by the action, eyes widening ever so slightly, her posture correcting itself by the slightest inch.

I move us a couple meters to now stand in front of the Mercedes garage. I get less looks in front of here. "My lord am I out of shape." She laughs airily while still catching her breath. The intake of air from her has seemed to become a little more shallow.

She stands up completely straight, a final large intake of breath before she speaks. "Are you okay?" Her words are accompanied with an exhale and worried eyes.

I'm too confused to comprehend anything. "How are you even in the pit lane? Guests can't be in the pit lane during sessions." I ignore her question, replacing it with one of my own. She looks confused now. "I just walked out here." She shrugs.

"But are you okay? You've been off all weekend and that crash wasn't usual." My attempt at trying to avoid her question has failed, and I remember then exactly why I would've been acting 'off'. I glance down the pit lane towards the McLaren garage.

I've realized Elaine's poor mood may have been a result of Savannah's presence here this weekend. I've caught multiple glares coming from her whenever Sav was within sight, practically burning holes into the blonde with her glares.

I've tried to stay away from Sav in the hopes that Elaine would give up her jealousy act. I thought the two were friends, I thought they got along well together. I guess I thought wrong.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little out of it I guess." I answer her earlier question with a shrug, brushing it off. Her open mouth indicates more words to come, but they die before they're spoken as George walks by, squeezing my shoulder when he does. "Sorry about your race." Savannah says to him, sounding seriously concerned.

He turns to her as if just noticing she's there. "Eh, I'm just sorry poor oscar here had to go out with me." He squeezes my shoulder again, shaking it this time. A small laugh comes from me at the motion.

She nods, nose scrunched ever so slightly. "Yeah, don't blame yourself too much though."She smiles at him before turning back to me, expression turning downward again. "If you need to talk I'm a great listener." Her smile finds its way back onto her face as she turns to walk back to the Williams garage.

She's left me here, in front of the Mercedes garage with an equally confused Brit standing beside me. The conversation was so short, yet it has such an affect on me. The way she spoke to me was like we were friends again, like nothing had even happened to us. Like I hadn't walked out on her.

I remember the August night vividly. I can still feel the cool air flowing through the Miami home, the ac fully turned up to combat the Florida heat. It could be heard over the loud noises of the city. I can still remember the way my heart had begged me not to listen to my head. I can easily picture the brave face she put up to conceal her crumbling heart that had been reflected so distinctly in her eyes.

She never even got an explanation. Not a glimpse of reason.

Not even now, an entire year later does she have a proper explanation. And yet, she's just acted as though none of it had happened. Why? Had she just wanted to forget about everything? Was she trying to forgive me without even hearing an apology?

Why can't I escape girl problems?

Two fingers snap in front of my face. "Mate, you're spacing." George shakes me once again. I silently thank him from pulling me out of the downward spiral. "I didn't know you two were friends." I comment, an implied reference to their brief interaction.

George nods while shrugging his shoulders. "Carmen and I met up with her and Lando a couple times during the break." He explains shortly, taking a sip from the straw of his drink.

I just nod my head slowly. "I'm gonna get ready for media, but I'm sorry again for crashing you. I really hadn't intended to." He apologizes again, taking a few steps away as he begins his venture off to his driver's room.

"Don't stress about it." I wave him off before I make quick steps to my own garage. I scout out Elaine, looking to her usual spot first. She's not there. She's not anywhere to be seen.

Lando's standing by his car, race overalls unzipped and hanging around his waist. "Have you seen Elaine?" I question him. He turns, slightly startled at the unsuspecting question. "Yeah she's..." he trails off, looking to where I had just tried to spot here. She's still absent. "Well she was over there but I don't know where she went. Sorry man." He apologizes before turning back to his mechanics, continuing the conversation I had mindlessly I interrupted.

I thank him quietly before I move further into the garage wondering where she's gone off to.

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A/N - i don't rlly like this chapter wtv