Chapter 3: "The Rivalry"

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-Pov. Oscar-

It started with a bet.

We were in the middle of the post-season break, tensions from the last race of the year still simmering between us. Lando and I had been fighting for position all season—on and off the track. Neither of us would admit it, but every race, every point felt like a personal battle.

It didn’t help that we couldn’t stand each other.

Lando, with his constant grin, cocky remarks, and effortless charm, was the polar opposite of me. I was all about focus, keeping my head down, staying professional. He was chaos, and I hated how easily he got to me.

We’d just finished some media obligations and were sitting in a small café. The conversation turned to next season, to who would come out on top. And then, it escalated.

“I’ll beat you again, Piastri,” Lando said, leaning back in his chair with that infuriating smirk. “You may have had a few good races, but we both know who’s the better driver.”

I shot him a cold glare. “You got lucky. Next season, I’m taking you down.”

“Oh yeah?” Lando raised an eyebrow, clearly enjoying himself. “Want to bet on that?”

I should have said no. Should’ve ignored him and let it go. But I was tired of always playing it cool, tired of pretending like he didn’t get under my skin.

“What kind of bet?” I asked, trying to keep my voice calm.

Lando’s smirk widened. “Whoever finishes higher in the standings next season… gets to call the shots for a week. Loser does whatever the winner says.”

I scoffed, crossing my arms. “That’s ridiculous.”

“Scared you’ll lose?” Lando’s eyes sparkled with amusement, taunting me.

I hated how much he could rile me up. “Fine. You’re on.”

---

Months later, it all came crashing down.

The season had been brutal. I gave it everything, every ounce of focus and determination, but it wasn’t enough. Lando beat me—barely, but he did. And now, I had to pay up.

I could still hear the smugness in his voice as he reminded me of our bet.

“Looks like you’re mine for the week,” Lando had said, his smile smug. I’d wanted to punch him right then and there.

Now, standing outside his Monaco apartment, I felt a pit of dread in my stomach. I didn’t know what kind of ridiculous things he had planned, but I knew it wouldn’t be good.

The door swung open, and there he was, leaning casually against the frame with that same infuriating grin.

“Glad you could make it, Oscar. Come in.”

I stepped inside, my fists clenched, my mind already preparing for the worst. Lando closed the door behind me, walking into the living room like this was just another day.

“So,” I said, crossing my arms. “What’s your first demand?”

Lando chuckled. “Relax, mate. We’ve got a whole week. No need to rush.”

I glared at him. “Just get on with it.”

He paused, looking at me for a moment, his expression softening just slightly. It was barely noticeable, but it was there.

“I’m not gonna make you do anything stupid,” he said, surprising me. “It’s not about that.”

I narrowed my eyes. “Then what is it about?”

Lando shrugged, looking almost… serious. “You act like you hate me. But I know you don’t.”

I scoffed. “I don’t know where you get your confidence, but trust me, I’m not pretending.”

“You sure about that?” Lando asked, his voice quieting. He stepped closer, his eyes never leaving mine. “Because I think you feel something else.”

I opened my mouth to snap back, but the words caught in my throat. There was something about the way he was looking at me—like he knew exactly what was going on in my head, even if I didn’t.

“Lando,” I started, but I didn’t know how to finish.

He didn’t give me the chance to think. In one swift movement, he closed the distance between us, his hand resting lightly on my arm.

“I know you hate losing,” he murmured, his face inches from mine. “But maybe this isn’t such a bad loss.”

And then, before I could process what was happening, he kissed me.

It was quick, soft, but it left me stunned, my heart racing. I should’ve pushed him away, should’ve been furious, but instead, I just stood there, frozen in place.

When he pulled back, there was that grin again, but this time, it wasn’t cocky. It was… hopeful.

“I knew you didn’t hate me,” he said softly.

I didn’t know what to say. I was angry, confused, but more than that, I was terrified of how right he was.

“Maybe I don’t,” I muttered, my voice barely audible.

Lando’s smile grew, and he stepped back, his hands slipping into his pockets. “Guess we’ll see what you really think by the end of the week.”

As he walked away, leaving me standing there, I couldn’t help but think that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t such a terrible bet after all.

---

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