The more numbers popping up on the screen, the more confused we become. It's the kind of confusion that makes you blink twice, stare harder, unable to believe your own eyes then recheck if the screen is glitching. But nope, all the data line up perfectly, waiting to be reviewed, sharing the same number.

Oscar's expression doesn't give away much, only a hint of surprise flickers by at first then gets away as fast as it comes, so I gently tap on his shoulder "Mate, do you see that?".

He looks up, his eyes meet mine - calm and steady - another way to confirm he's not in shock the same way I am. "Yeah I do, but I guess it must be some mechanic problems. There's no way we can match perfectly like that", he shrugs.

Of course, mechanic problem. Why didn't I think of it earlier? Oscar's explanation makes everything feels so simple before Zak speaks up from the other side of the table – "Have you ever seen our data collect system has got problem? We are in Formula 1 for God's sake, every number matters."

"There's always first time for everything" – I decide to defend Oscar and voice my opinion – "Why don't we get the car and go for few more laps?"

Zak murmurs under his breath, definitely got surprised by the way I back Oscar up. "Take a break boys, we'll double check the system again then you can go for another drive". Zak waves us off and as a cue, we quickly slip into dining area.

Eyeing the clock on the wall, I realize it's time for my daily gaming rewards. Gaming nerd behavior, I know. I fall down on the sofa then open games after games. Before I can get half way through all of them, Oscar walks in, plates full of food in his arms.

"Lando, get up and eat something"

"You didn't grab all that just for me, right?", I ask him in such a doubtful tone.

"Don't be ridiculous, half of them is mine". Oscar replies as he put some more plates down on the table.

I take a look at his food of choice – salad, such a simple choice, creamy chicken pasta, green detox juice, few slices of pizza, rice and salmon. Seriously Oscar, don't they give you better options?

"Oscar, I want Bolognese, not that creamy chicken pasta. I'll die in that heavy cream." The truth is, I could finish all of this in one sitting, being an athlete and such. Another truth, being babied is a part of my personality and Oscar might not be aware of that.

"I know. But seems like Bolognese is off the menu today", he says, handing me a plate full of food, "You will survive until dinner."

"You know? You know what I want?" – assume my voice is a bit too high whenever I'm surprised but no one needs to know that.

"It's hard not to notice when everything you ate was Bolognese for 7 days straight on the Qatar race week last year. I was a bit afraid that my teammate would turn to a walking Bolognese and there's nothing I can do to prevent that inchident. Imagine me stand in front of media saying "Norris has retired from racing because he has turned into Bolognese due to overconsumption". The scenario is much funnier in my head you know?"

The fact he notices what I ate last year and knows the joke "inchident"? I might as well pass the hell out right now.

Oscar tries to hide his laugh but kinda fails, I could sense it all the way from here. Since when did he become so funny? Another voice in my head answers "since forever, you just never gave him a chance to prove", another voice obviously says "shut up".

"Awwww, always keeping an eye on me don't you?" - I tease him

"All the time". Oscar answers without blinking his eyes, the answer comes so fast that it takes me by surprised.

My brain malfunctions. Having nothing left to tease him about, especially when I feel the heat under my cheeks is starting to burn, I grab a fork and start eating. Not gonna lie, this must be one of those rare moments when we get to have lunch in peace and silence, without sponsors, PR team and people telling us what to do.

"Yo", I say mid-bite, "have you ever thought how many people have put that fork in their mouth and now you're kissing them indirectly?"

Yep, I put that fork in my mouth. Congratulations Oscar, you are kissing me indirectly. My mind is screaming in the void.

"I guess that thought never passes my mind. What do you even have in that mind of yours Lan? You are always unpredictable."

"All I need is to think of you then I instantly become unpredictable". His eyes gleam under the sunlight and when he hears my joke, they brighten a bit.

"But seriously though, what were you thinking of while driving out there? My mind is still a bit stuck at how does that work" – Oscar's tone suddenly changes to serious, well the boy I know is back.

"I did think of you, but not that much, just wondering how you would do out there and if your car would be better than mine. But not even more than 3 seconds though" - I confess casually. But really, isn't he gonna think it was reason?

Lunch ended in silent since Oscar was a bit lost in his own thoughts and I was back to my games. No more exchange and assumption were made. I didn't even realize the time until Oscar stood up, cleaned the table and offered me a hand to pull me up. Has he ever been less than a gentleman? Probably not.

***

Back on the track, the smell of burnt rubber makes my stomach twist. Probably because I ate too much for lunch.

Leaving Oscar with his car, I make my way to my driver's room when Zak pulls me over. "We checked the data collecting system and it must be perfect by now. Put on your race suit and we'll start in 5". I nod in agreement.

Me and Oscar will run separately first, then together the second time. Our separate laps are quickly done and when Oscar pulls over, I'm already waiting for him. Starting the engine, all I can feel is blood rushing to my cheeks, a familiar feeling of being able to do what I love the most in the world. The light goes out and both of us sprint like a flying arrow in our car.

20 laps are done in a blink of an eye and before I even realize, I'm sitting in my car, eyes glued to Oscar's ass as he climbs out of the car. How are they so round? Who even allowed that? I look away violently, damn me for all those thoughts.

As both of us walk into the garage, we catch a terrified look on Zak's face – "I don't think the machine made a mistake"