𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐞𝐥𝐬𝐞; oscar piastri

PART TWENTY EIGHT

I promise you guys you're not ready for chapter thirty. Comment for a DT (dedication) <3

How would you guys feel if I made a discord server btw?? I wasn't kidding when I said I was addicted to writing OP fics, I actually have so many ideas for when I'm done with this one but I can't decide oops

Word count; 2,339

Tomás

Quali had started out well. By half time, I'd made my way up to third, where I was then stuck behind Checo, who wouldn't let me past - by any means necessary; I wouldn't be surprised if he drove both of us into the wall some day. It was just a waiting game from there; both him and Max were yet to pit, and when the time came I'd be able to glide up to first.

As if that would go to plan.

Another few laps in, I'd tried to overtake him, but I'd lost control, pushing us both out and resulting in a ten second penalty. Which wouldn't have mattered much, if Checo didn't decide to push us out again at the next corner, prompting another penalty (because why would the FIA chastise the current world champions?)

Once on the podium, I was back in eighteenth, the chequered flag waving just after I climbed up to sixteenth.

"Keep it family friendly, Taz." Andi - my engineer - said through the radio, sensing my frustration.

As if frustration could even describe it.

I'd said practically every curse and swearword I knew, in every language I could speak, and Andi knew I wouldn't hesitate to go further than mere words. Parking up the car, I climbed out, tossing my helmet on the garage table carelessly before heading to my drivers room. No-one stopped me; they'd learned by now it wasn't even worth the effort.

Yet, shutting the door to my room, the anger morphed into something else - though I couldn't tell what. Adrenaline still poured through my veins, my heart pattering against my ribcage. I rested my forehead on the door, letting my eyes shut for a second.

"You put on the great show out there."

Eyelids shooting open, I whipped around, wondering if my ears had mistaken me.

They hadn't.

"It's a shame what happened, really." The German tutted, as if he'd been in a similar position before.

My brows furrowed, my mouth suddenly dry as I stared at him.

How the hell did he get in here?

"You look awfully unhappy to see me, mate." He pouted.

"What-" I cleared my throat. "What are you doing here?"

Sebastian smiled, "Am I not allowed to visit my old teammate?"

I swallowed, hard. Despite everything we'd been through, how Ferrari had always prioritised him during our time together, I couldn't help but admire - be intimidated, almost - by the former world champion. More specifically, why he was sat in my room.

"I'm sure there's a lot of other people who would like to see you."

"But I'm not here to see them." He said immediately. "I'm here to see you."

"Why?"

"Must there always be a reason for these things?"

I scoffed, a familiar statement floating to the front of my mind. Does there always have to be a hidden agenda behind what I do?

It seemed everything had to have a secret duty behind it - I didn't trust people's actions just for the sake of it. Not to mention it had been years since we last saw each other, let alone had a conversation together.