F1 One Shots Based On Songs

i hate u, i love u - Brocedes

Song for this chapter: i hate u, i love u - gnash (feat. Olivia O'Brien)

Nico Rosberg sat alone in his hotel room, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting soft shadows across the walls. He stared at his phone, his fingers hovering over the screen as if he were about to send a message—another unsent text he knew he'd never send. The silence in the room felt oppressive, broken only by the faint hum of the city outside the window. His mind was elsewhere, stuck in a loop of memories, a cycle of emotions he couldn't escape.

The past few years had been a whirlwind for Nico—he had achieved everything he'd worked for, becoming Formula 1 World Champion and walking away from the sport at the peak of his career. Yet, no matter how much success he had achieved, it didn't fill the void that was Lewis Hamilton.

Nico threw his phone onto the bed, frustrated with himself. Why couldn't he let it go? Why, after all this time, did thoughts of Lewis still haunt him like a shadow he couldn't shake?

He thought back to their days as teammates, the intense rivalry that had defined their relationship. The public saw only the battles on the track, but Nico had lived through the battles behind closed doors, the quiet moments when their competition blurred the lines between hate and something deeper—something unspoken but always there, lurking beneath the surface.

He hated Lewis for how easily he seemed to move on, for the way he carried on with his life as though their years together meant nothing. But more than that, he hated that he still loved him.

Nico had tried to move on. He had tried to build a life beyond Lewis, but no matter where he went or what he did, there was always that ache in his chest, that gnawing feeling that something was missing. And every time he saw Lewis on TV, every time he heard his name in the news, it was like a punch to the gut.

He hated him. But he loved him. And it was killing him.

--

The next morning, Nico sat in a café near the paddock, watching people pass by as he sipped his coffee. He hadn't slept much, his mind replaying the same old memories, the same old feelings. His hand tightened around the coffee cup, his thoughts drifting back to the days when he and Lewis had been inseparable—when they were more than just teammates, more than just rivals.

Before everything had fallen apart.

They used to laugh together, back in their younger days. Before the rivalry had consumed them, before the championship battle had torn them apart. Nico could still remember the nights they'd spent talking late into the night, sharing dreams and fears, confiding in each other in a way no one else could understand. There was a bond there, something deeper than friendship.

But it hadn't lasted. The tension had grown, the competition between them becoming too much to bear. And Nico had known that something had changed when he saw the way Lewis looked at her—Nicole.

Nico had tried to ignore it at first, tried to convince himself that it didn't matter. But every time he saw the way Lewis looked at her, he felt a pang of jealousy, a bitterness that gnawed at him from the inside out. He knew it wasn't rational. He knew that whatever feelings he had for Lewis weren't reciprocated, but it didn't make it hurt any less.

He took another sip of his coffee, his mind replaying the lyrics of a song that had been stuck in his head for weeks.

"I hate you, I love you. I hate that I love you."

It was the perfect summary of his feelings for Lewis. The push and pull of emotions he had been grappling with for years now. The constant battle between wanting to forget him and never being able to.

As he sat there, lost in thought, his phone buzzed on the table. It was a message from one of his friends, asking if he was coming to the event later that evening. He glanced at the message, not really paying attention. He knew Lewis would be there. Of course, he would. He was everywhere, always there, a constant reminder of what Nico had lost—or maybe, what he had never truly had.

--

Later that evening, Nico found himself at the event, surrounded by people but feeling completely alone. He wandered through the crowd, his mind miles away. The chatter, the music, the laughter—it all felt distant, like he was watching it through a fog. He didn't want to be there, but something had compelled him to come. Maybe it was the hope, the stupid, irrational hope that he might catch a glimpse of Lewis.

And then he saw him.

Lewis was standing across the room, talking to a group of people, laughing in that easy, carefree way that Nico used to love—and now hated. He was always so composed, so unaffected. Nico watched him for a moment, feeling that familiar ache in his chest. He wanted to go over there, to talk to him, to say something—anything—but his feet felt rooted to the ground.

He hated him for how he could stand there, looking so damn perfect, while Nico was drowning in emotions he couldn't even begin to articulate.

As Nico stood there, watching Lewis, his gaze shifted to the woman standing next to him. His heart sank. She was beautiful, of course—Lewis always had a way of surrounding himself with beautiful people. But it wasn't just that. It was the way Lewis looked at her, the way he smiled at her like she was the only person in the room.

Nico's stomach twisted, and he turned away, unable to watch any longer. He couldn't compete with that. He had never been able to.

"You want her, you need her, and I'll never be her."

The words echoed in his mind, a painful reminder of the reality he had been trying so hard to avoid. He could never be what Lewis wanted. He could never be enough.

He left the event early, the weight of his emotions pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. As he walked through the quiet streets, the cool night air did little to ease the turmoil inside him. He hated himself for feeling this way. He hated that he couldn't let go, couldn't move on like Lewis had.

But most of all, he hated that he still loved him.

--

Back in his hotel room, Nico sat on the edge of the bed, his hands trembling as he typed out another message to Lewis. He had written so many over the years, but he never sent them. What was the point? Lewis didn't care. He never had.

But this time, his fingers hovered over the send button for a little longer. He didn't know what he was hoping for. Maybe some acknowledgment, some closure. Maybe just to let Lewis know how much he had meant to him, how much he still did.

But then the doubt crept in. Would Lewis even care? Would he even respond? And even if he did, what could he say that would make a difference?

Nico sighed, deleting the message before tossing his phone aside. It was pointless. There was no fixing this. No amount of words could change the fact that Lewis had moved on, and Nico was stuck in the past, unable to let go of the one person who had meant more to him than anyone else.

He wished he could turn off his feelings, wished he could stop caring. But it wasn't that simple. It never had been.

And so, he lay there, alone with his thoughts, knowing that no matter how much he tried to convince himself otherwise, he would always love Lewis Hamilton.

Even if it was the one thing that hurt him the most.