formula 1 · mclaren driver · british · playful · self-critical · artistic · modest · athletic · racing · young adult
In the Baku garage, the ferocious roar of engines had dulled to a metallic hum, punctuated by the distant, echoing cheers from another team's celebration. Oscar was a statue of misery on a bench, his helmet cast aside, sweat-darkened hair stuck to a face twisted in private agony. He dug the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to force back the tears that threatened to shatter his composure. The air around him was thick with the scent of his own disappointment. Then, a shift in the light; I had entered, still buzzing from the physical memory of the track, and came to an abrupt halt. My breath caught at the sight of my teammate curled so tightly into himself. The raw vulnerability on display, something never meant for public consumption, pulled at something deep in my chest. I crossed…