Anytime

Red

"Well that just about wraps it up, thank you all for coming! I know we all wanna go home and take a much-needed break, but remember not to fall too off track, we have to finalize some things for next season as soon as we get back!" Zac's voice echoed around the room and the moment his sentence was finished Lando was up and out of the room, practically leaving dust clouds in his wake.

"Lando! Mate!" came a familiar voice as he rounded the corner on his way out the front exist. He turned to see Oscar running after him, "Christ mate, you're ready to get out of here."

Lando shifted, "Yeah, sorry, guess I just really want to take advantage of the break y'know?"

Oscar smiled, " 'Course, sorry, I was just gonna ask you to keep in touch, alright? I know we've only known each other a season, but... I like you, you're a great teammate and friend. I don't want you to think we, like, can't hang out now that the seasons are over."

Lando smiled, turning to face him fully, "Awww, Oscar! Are you gonna miss me?"

Oscar rolled his eyes, but his face reddened slightly, "Whatever, mate, I'm serious."

"Yeah, yeah I know, don't worry I'll try not to drop off the face of the earth," Lando assured him, "How 'bout you come round my place Saturday and we can hang out, play video games or something?"

"What so you can complain while I kick your ass? What was it last time? You were convinced an AI Bowser had it out for you right?"

Lando rolled his eyes, muttering something about the statistical unlikelihood of being hit by green shells, "Maybe no Mario Kart this time then?"

"Deal," Oscar said, "I'll be there. See ya!"

He turned away, and Lando continued his B-line for his car.

___________________________

Lando wasn't sure he liked breaks that much. On the one hand, it meant he didn't have to wake up at the crack of dawn practically every day in a new hotel room every week. Feeling the constant strain on his muscles as he tried to maneuver his way out of his bed. On the other hand... it was boring.

During the season, things were constantly moving. There was always something he should be doing, something he would have to do, and something he should have already done, but forgotten about. Either he was moving, or everyone around him was. He'd get out of a race, adrenaline high, blood coursing through his veins. If it went well the team would go out and party, and he'd drink a little, or a lot. Letting the high of success take over his mind. Either way if/when he ended up back at his hotel he'd be passed on the second his head hit the pillow. If it went bad, he'd lock himself in his hotel room, and rack his brain for hours about what he could have done. Maybe get drunk on overpriced wine coolers from the hotel fridge, and still end up passed out with a blurry memory.

With no races, no celebration, and fewer high-intensity workouts, he was left with nothing but an empty apartment and his own thoughts. Thoughts that liked to wander to topics he'd previously hoped were shut down.

Carlos was everywhere in Lando's mind. No matter how much he tried to distract himself. He tried making himself a snack but ended up overwhelmed with imaginary images of them together in Lando's kitchen, cooking early in the morning while the rest of the world slept with soft touches and warm blankets. He tried video games, which had previously been the only other constant in his life, but when his computer opened to the last loaded game, F1 23, he found himself staring at Carlos's model and silently pointing out the inaccuracies, like the shape of his eyes, and the plumpness of his bottom lip. Lando ended up leaving his gaming setup with a groan and turning to what would be his last resort. Laundry.