VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 134

[POV: Narrator]

Lando was only helping Oscar up the stairs, but you'd think he was attempting to summit Everest.

It was mostly just Oscar leaning on him like a human sandbag while pretending (insisting) he was fine when really he was not fine at all.

On the way, Lando tried to step over the second step and somehow nearly tripped over Oscar's limp legs because he'd apparently decided he needed to be horizontal asap, and that balance was optional after one too many drinks.

Babysitter, sure, Lando thought, he could handle that, how hard could it be, but now he realized that babysitting someone who could barely stand and refused to admit defeat was basically an Olympic sport and he had not trained for it.

"Okay, buddy," Lando said, probably more to himself at that point, "you're doing great. You're upright, which is... something. We'll call that a win. Hold on, let me get a picture— wait, no, don't fall, don't fall, I swear to god— okay, perfect, got it, Instagram's gonna love this."

Eventually, they stopped in front of a door.

"You're sure she said 209?" he asked Oscar, whose head lolled like a ragdoll and whose response was...blinking very slowly. "...Alright," Lando muttered, putting a hand on the doorframe and glancing down. "Guess we'll find out."

He knocked on the door lightly, then a little harder, then seriously considered whistling.

"Don't tell me she's asleep," he whispered to himself, because yes, that would be very possible for Andi at this time of night. But, the door did open after a while — just before Lando went to grab his phone and FaceTime her awake.

Inside, there was Andi, blinking at them, hair tied back messily, sweatpants, hoodie, remnants of mascara on her cheeks, face looking like she had just cried out the Nile. 

Lando grinned at her before spotting that last part, but it caught in his throat midway out.

"Hey! I've—oh. Are you good? What's wr—"

She cut him off with a sharp gesture toward Oscar. "Is he good?" she asked, and Lando blinked.

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he's fine. Let me just—" he started stepping toward Oscar to lift him, but Andi interjected.

"I've got him," she said, voice sharp in a way that made Lando pause. "You can go. Just... leave him with me. Please."

"No, no," Lando said immediately, stepping closer. "I'm carrying him in. It's fine. Trust me. I've gotten really good, watch."

Andi opened her mouth, but Lando had already wrapped Oscar's arm around his shoulder, lifting him in a careful-but-definitely-strained maneuver. Oscar slumped against him, half-supportive, half-prone, while Lando took a step into the hallway and froze.

There was a suitcase lying open, half-packed, with clothes scattered around it.

Lando's brow shot up.

"Wait—what is this?" He paused, shifting Oscar's weight slightly, which elicited a soft groan.

Andi's face flinched, eyes darting to the floor, fingers tightening on the doorframe.

Even to Lando, she looked guilty. Very, very guilty.

"Oscar told me you weren't leaving until Monday. So why—" Lando broke off, his frown deepening. "What the hell are you doing?"

The silence that followed wasn't a confused silence, or a surprised silence. It was a guilty silence. Andi didn't move, nor did she explain.

She just stood there in the doorway, caught.