Maybe in another life-formula 1

Have a nice summer

He let out half a breath as he stepped into the hotel elevator, the quiet hum rising up around him. It had gone well. It had gone perfectly, actually, one-two in qualifying, not a single speck of rain to ruin the rhythm. But Angelus still felt off.

Maybe it was Spa. Maybe it was the weight of it all. Or maybe it was because every time he turned around in the garage, he'd catch Sophie's eyes, sharp, unblinking, glued to her son's timesheet like it was holy scripture. He didn't know what exactly he was feeling. Jealousy? The aching absence of his own mother? Or both, colliding in his chest until it hollowed him out.

He huffed the thought away as the elevator dinged and slipped into the hotel room without a sound. The door clicked shut behind him, the echo of the elevator still in his ears.

Brad was in the bathroom, the sound of the shower loud and constant, no steam curls at the door because, unfortunately for Angelus, he now had the useless fact that Brad showers in ice-cold water like the psychopath he is. Angelus changed quickly, peeling off his Red Bull kit and tugging on soft pyjamas, loose, cotton, clean. Comfortable. He didn't have an issue with sharing a room when it came to what he wore. Angelus ran cold, so he never slept shirtless anyway.

He sat on the edge of the bed, phone in hand, and thumbed through a few messages before tapping Pedro's name.

The call barely rang once.

"Angel!" Pedro's voice burst through, warm and familiar. "I was just about to message you."

Angelus smiled, some tension bleeding from his shoulders instantly. "Yeah, not surprised you've kept your messaging at a consistent rate of three messages per hour?"

"Huh, I thought I was sending at a higher rate," Pedro said airily. Angrlus could hear chattingin the background of pedros call.

"Where are you" he asks

"I'm in the office. The coffee machine is broken, and every time someone passes by, they have to vent to me about it like it's a humanitarian crisis."

"That is a crisis," Angelus deadpanned, stretching out on the bed, his joints groaning in quiet protest. "An engineering office working overtime with no coffee. Why are you even still there?"

Pedro laughed. "I had some work left, you know how it is, glorious unpaid overtime...how about you, how are things?"

Angelus exhaled, one hand resting on his chest. "Yeah. I mean... It's weird being back, but it wasn't bad. Track walk was... actually kind of good."

"You walked the whole thing?"

"I did," Angelus said softly, eyes drifting up to the ceiling. "And I stood in front of it. the corner. I thought it would break me or i would loose it , but it didn't. It... it felt like closure, I guess. Like I was finally looking at it from the other side. I am angry still... God, I'm so angry all the time, but I im not sad about it anymore, Im- I don't know better."

There was a pause on the line. Not heavy. Just respectful.

"That's good," Pedro said gently. "That's really good. I'm proud of you."

Angelus smiled, eyes fluttering shut for a moment.

Pedro carried on, lightening the mood the way he always did. " I'm collecting absurd office stories for when you're back. Did I tell you Lars brought a raccoon to the parking lot last week?"

"What—"

"He said it was a stray. He was trying to domesticate it. We had to have a safety meeting about feral wildlife. British people are so weird"