High Gear Rivalry

Chapter 1: Collision Course

Oscar's POV

The McLaren paddock is a whirlwind of activity. The noise of engines, the chatter of the crew, and the flashing cameras make it hard to think. For me, stepping into this scene feels like walking into a hurricane. Every glance, every whispered conversation, seems to be about me.

Lando Norris is the center of attention, and it feels like I'm on the outside looking in. His charisma and confidence shine through, but for me, it's just another barrier. From the moment I arrived, it was clear that we weren't going to get along. His smirk, his sarcastic remarks—everything about him seems designed to put me on edge.

"New guy," Lando says one day, strolling over to me in the garage with an air of casual superiority. "You've got a lot to prove if you're going to fit in here."

I try to keep my cool, but his condescension is infuriating. "I'm here to race, not to play politics."

Lando's smirk widens, his eyes glinting with a mix of amusement and judgment. "Well, it's not all about racing, you know. There's a lot more to this world than you might think."

Every interaction with him feels like a battle. His remarks are always tinged with sarcasm, and it's clear he doesn't think much of my skills. The other drivers, eager to align themselves with him, only reinforce the sense of isolation.

The media is relentless, and it doesn't help that they thrive on our rivalry. Every time we're in the same room, cameras flash and reporters pounce, eager to catch a moment of tension. It's a constant reminder of the divide between us.

One evening, as I'm working late in the garage, Lando appears once more. His casual demeanor is in stark contrast to my intense focus. "Working late, huh? Trying to make up for lost time?"

I glance up, trying to keep my frustration in check. "Just making some final adjustments."

Lando leans against a nearby tool chest, his eyes gleaming with amusement. "Good luck with that. You'll need it. This isn't just about speed. It's about fitting in."

His words are a jab, and I can feel my anger rising. "Thanks for the advice," I say through gritted teeth. "I'll keep that in mind."

He chuckles and walks away, leaving me to my frustrations. It's clear this rivalry isn't just about racing—it's personal.

Lando's POV

Oscar's arrival was like a jolt to the system. His aloof, Kimi Räikkönen-esque attitude was a stark contrast to the usual team dynamics, and it rubbed me the wrong way. His detachment felt deliberate, like he was putting up a wall to keep everyone out.

I can't deny his talent, but his approach is hard to ignore. Every interaction with him feels charged with hostility. It's exhausting.

One day, I see Oscar struggling with his car in the garage. His frustration is evident, and part of me wants to offer help. But then I remember his attitude and decide against it. Why should I help someone who clearly thinks they're too good for the team?

I approach him anyway, curiosity mixed with irritation. "Need any help, or are you too busy proving a point?"

Oscar looks up, his eyes cold. "I've got it covered. I don't need anyone's help."

I see the tension in his shoulders and decide to back off. "Suit yourself. Just don't say I didn't offer."

The media eats up our rivalry. Every time we're in the same room, the cameras flash and reporters pounce. It feels like we're on display, and neither of us is making an effort to be friendly.

One evening, I walk past the garage and see Oscar working late. He's so intense, and it's almost comical. If he wants to play the lone wolf, that's fine by me. He can sink or swim on his own.

"Still here?" I call out, my voice laced with mockery. "Trying to fix all your problems in one night?"

Oscar looks up, his eyes hard. "I'm just making sure everything is in order. I don't need your help."

I shrug, trying to hide my amusement. "Well, don't say I didn't offer. Some people are just too proud to accept it."

As I walk away, I can't shake the feeling that this rivalry is just getting started. It's clear that things are only going to get more intense.

Time Skip: Grand Prix of Spain

Oscar's POV

The atmosphere at the Spanish Grand Prix is electric. The paddock is abuzz with excitement and speculation, and the media is in overdrive. The rumors about potential driver changes and team mergers are rampant, and the tension is palpable.

Lando and I haven't spoken much since the last race. The rivalry between us has only intensified, and it feels like we're on a collision course. Every interaction is charged with hostility, and the media is loving it.

As I prepare for the race, I can't shake the feeling that Lando is watching me. Every time I look up, I see him lingering nearby, his eyes filled with a mixture of curiosity and disdain. It's as if he's waiting for me to slip up, and it only adds to the pressure.

The race itself is intense. Every move feels like a statement, a way to prove myself. I can see Lando's car in my mirrors, his presence a constant reminder of our rivalry. Every time we cross paths on the track, it's a battle.

The competition is fierce, and every overtake feels like a small victory. I manage to gain a few positions, but Lando is right there, challenging me at every turn. It's clear that both of us are determined to come out on top.

When the race finally ends, I'm exhausted but satisfied with my performance. I've managed to hold my own, and it feels like a small victory in the ongoing battle between us. But as I walk back to the garage, I know this rivalry is far from over. It's only going to get more intense.