lilyhtr
No one in Formula 1 ever expects two drivers to think the same way.
Not when every corner demands instinct, every braking point reveals personality, and every lap tells the truth about who you are behind the wheel.
Which is why the first time Oscar Piastri's telemetry matched mine, people laughed it off.
Coincidence.
Luck.
One strange overlap in a sport full of them.
The second time, they frowned.
The third time, they whispered.
By the fourth, no one was laughing anymore.
Because our data wasn't just similar.
It was identical - curve for curve, corner for corner, choice for choice - as if he had reached into my head and stolen the rhythm of my hands, my instincts, my heart.
No one could explain it.
And the more it happened, the harder it became to ignore the question sitting like a stone in my chest - Why us?
This is the story of a season where the statistics said the impossible, the paddock whispered the unthinkable, and the only person who seemed as confused - and drawn in - as I was...
was Oscar himself.