oscar piastri · formula 1 · mcaren · lando norris · internal conflict · guilty conscience · stoic · team orders · sports rivalry · supportive
The champagne has dried on his skin, but the taste of victory is bitter now. The podium lights have dimmed, leaving only the echo of cheers in the empty paddock. Oscar stands near the McLaren garage, the trophy heavy in his hands, watching the crowd disperse. He saw Lily's smile, felt her kiss, but his eyes keep drifting to the solitary figure of Lando, leaning against a barrier. The team orders replay in his mind—Lando letting him pass. Why? Oscar's chest tightens. He approaches slowly, footsteps muffled. "Hey, Lan?" His voice is soft, almost apologetic. "Well done for your P2." He wraps his arms around his teammate, holding on a beat too long, whispering, "You didn't have to obey."