Criminal ~ OP81

20. Oscar gets advice from a 7 time world champion and a dog

Oscar Piastri

The salty air of Zandvoort filled my lungs as I walked through the town, hands shoved deep in my pockets. The town was quickly coming alive after the end of the race and the loudness was weirdly soothing. It made it harder to think and therefore overthink about everything in my life lately.

I kicked at a small pebble along the sidewalk, watching it skitter across the concrete before disappearing into a bush along the sidewalk.

How had everything gone so wrong so quickly?

Just a week ago, I felt like I was on top of the world. Now, I felt like I was drowning, caught in a riptide of emotions and accusations I couldn't escape. I didn't know what to think, what to believe, what to do- I knew nothing. And it sucked.

The sound of barking pulled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see a familiar figure approaching, a leash in one hand and a tennis ball in the other.

Of all the people I was expecting to see on this walk to clear my mind, I certainly wasn't expecting to see Lewis Hamilton, the seven-time world champion and Andrea's... what? Mentor? Father figure? The man she turned to when everything went to shit?

Our eyes met, and for a moment, we both froze. The awkwardness was palpable. I knew he was aware of what had happened between Andrea and me. How could he not be? Even if she wasn't the one to tell him about it, it was splashed across every motorsport news outlet, dissected on every social media platform.

Lewis recovered first, offering a small nod. "Oscar," he said, his voice neutral.

"Lewis," I replied, my own voice sounding strained to my ears.

We stood there for a moment, the silence broken only by the presence of other people going through their day and the impatient whining of his dog.

Finally, Lewis spoke again.

"How are you holding up? With everything going on, I mean."

I shrugged, aiming for nonchalance but probably missing by a mile. "I'm fine. You know how it is. Media circus and all that."

Lewis nodded, his eyes searching my face. I had the uncomfortable feeling he could see right through my facade and somehow knew everything I was thinking.

"Yeah, I know how it is," he said softly. "Listen, I wanted to say... what you said to the media, about not commenting on the situation? That was good of you. Classy."

I felt a flush of pride at his words, quickly followed by a wave of shame. Here I was, feeling good about keeping my mouth shut when Andrea was being crucified in the press. Yeah I didn't say anything to make it worse for her,  it i certainly didn't say anything that would make it better for her.

"Thanks," I mumbled, not meeting his eyes.

Lewis was quiet for a moment, then asked, "Have you checked up on her, Andrea I mean? She's been ignoring my calls."

The question hit me like a punch to the gut just like when my mum asked. I knew I should've checked up on her this morning and after the stupid media questions I'd been asked, yet I didn't. I'd been too caught up in my own hurt, my own anger, that I convinced myself I didn't need to.

"I... no, I haven't," I admitted, the words tasting bitter in my mouth.

Lewis' expression tightened almost imperceptibly. "Do you really believe what they're saying about her? That she was using you?"

I hesitated, the doubts that had been plaguing me for days bubbling to the surface more so now that he was even questioning it. "I... I don't know. I mean, I heard it from her own mouth."