VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 88

[POV: Narrator]

Lando and Charles gave each other a look.

The kind of short, knowing look that was immediately understood on both ends. The kind of look that happened when something ugly had just occurred, but only a few people in the room actually understood it.

Charles' jaw was set, teeth pressed against whatever words he hadn't said yet. Lando's brows dipped just slightly, and without needing to speak, they both understood who was going.

Lando exhaled once through his nose, patted Oscar's shoulder on the way past — a quick, wordless motion.

Oscar just sat stiffly, watching him go.

He didn't know what to do. He just kept staring straight ahead, one hand gripping the side of his chair like it could keep him anchored there, in this moment, where he couldn't run after her.

The comment — the one the announcer had made — was still being whispered between conversations.

And the only thing — the only thing keeping him from staying where he was, and not following after her — was the quiet knowledge that he really had no idea what it meant.

He knew enough to gather that it was serious. He wasn't dense; but he could tell there was more to it.

But, really, Oscar didn't know the half of it. Not like the others did. Not like Charles did, or Lando.

But he'd seen her face.

He'd watched the colour drain out of it like a switch had flipped. Watched the way she'd stood. How quickly she'd snapped. The way she walked out without looking at any of them — like something had come loose inside her chest and she needed to escape before it all fell out in front of everyone.

Now, through only a slight silver in the double doors, Oscar could see Lando outside. Lit by the spill of lights from the building and a streetlamp nearby, he could see her silhouette; small and still as Lando approached her.

She didn't hear him coming, not at first. But Lando's voice must have cut gently enough through the dark, because she lifted her head.

Oscar watched it all play out. Andi took Lando's outstretched hand and got up from the steps. They stood close for a while before he pulled her into a tight hug. She let him do it; one hand of his went to the back of her head, gently holding her against his chest as her arms folded up between them.

Even though the distance blurred the finer details, Oscar knew.

She was crying.

It did something awful to him.

Seeing her like that — not even on the edge of tears, but in them, completely — unnerved him.

He hated it.

He hated it.

It made him feel helpless. Like there was nothing he could say or do to pull her out of the whatever she was sinking into.

Lando said something to make Andi pull back slightly. Her hands went to her face. She wiped her eyes with the back of one of them, nodded at whatever Lando had just said.

He reached forward again, carefully, brushing a strand of hair off her face. Then wiped away another tear with the pad of his thumb.

She smiled — barely.

The wind picked up. A breeze caught the edge of her dress and the loose strands of her hair.

Everything around them looked dim.