VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 130

[POV: Narrator]

The rest of the weekend in Mexico passed with Andi tucked away in the quiet anonymity of a hotel room.

She found reasons not to go with Oscar — thin excuses that sounded practical when she said them out loud.

It's better for your image if I'm not there.
The cameras are everywhere.
You don't need the distraction.

He didn't argue, not directly, but she could see it in him when he left each morning, the way his expression flattened at the door, the pause as if he was waiting for her to change her mind.

He never asked twice, though. He just went.

However, his compliance didn't stop Lando from trying in his place.

His name flashed up on her phone screen more often than she liked: little updates, blunt reminders, sometimes just a message with no preamble at all — just: He wants you there. Stop being difficult.

Andi let most of them sit unopened. She told herself it was for the best, that keeping her distance now would save them both later, which was enough motivation to shove her phone under her pillow, ignoring anything that came her way.

Brazil wasn't much different.

She thought she'd be clever about it, that she'd get ahead of the cycle this time. Straight after Mexico she floated the idea of going home to Monaco instead. Why fly halfway across the world just to sit in another hotel room? It made sense— to her. But Oscar didn't let her. Somehow, he found a way to make it seem like more work, all the while staying patient in a way that made her want to scream. She gave him every excuse under the sun, even claiming she's missed five deliveries now, and simply couldn't let the local post office hold onto them for any longer because 'the post lady has loose fingers.' But he just fired back with 'Come with me, and when we get back, we'll go first thing. A 75-year-old lady has no interest in ASOS.'

It was infuriating; how reasonable he sounded.

So, once again, she followed him for the week.

The morning of the Brazilian GP, Andi had been awake long before Oscar, same as she had been the past few mornings. The sun hadn't even broken through the curtains yet when she slipped out of bed, quiet enough not to wake him.

He hated it — and he'd voiced that hatred more than enough times for her to successfully pretend she 'forgot again' and did it by accident. So when she came back to the room, finding him awake and unhappy to have found her side of the bed empty, he scowled, and she told him: "I just went to get my morning steps in."

It was a blatant lie.

She didn't even have her FitBit on.

Truth was, the combination of him with his messed up sleepy-hair, and his morning voice that he'd inevitably use to try pleading for her to come with him again— it was lethal. She didn't think she had the strength to stand in front of that and still say no.

He looked up from where he was half-dressed, tugging the zipper of his backpack closed. His eyebrows lifted. "Thought you were gonna be gone longer."

Andi shrugged, dropping her hoodie onto the chair.

It didn't take long for him to start. "You should come with me today," he said, so she busied herself with her water bottle.

"No, it's fine, I've got some things I need to sort out anyway."

"Like what?"

She hesitated a fraction. "...Like admin-y stuff. Emails."

He gave her a flat look. "You don't answer emails."