It's only been two days since I got back to England and I'm convinced I'm losing weight purely because of the depressing food choices I have at home. Normally, I would just go over to Alex's place to eat but unfortunately, he's still wandering the world, leaving me behind. I need more Asian friends with cooking talent like him, add that to my New Year's resolution to achieve this year.

Pulling my phone out of the pocket, I send a text in my team's group chat.

Lando: Sim session, 9 pm, tonight. Donut provided. Anyone interested?
Tom (Performance engineer): 1 lemon cream-filled donut
Brad (Simulation Engineer): No donut for me, a Monster would be good though
Brad (Simulation Engineer): Don't be late Lando
Lando: Can't promise that :)

I toss my phone away as I step in the shower, getting ready for a working day starts at 9pm. After all, sim work is still sim work, even if I'm hungry, tired and mildly dying. Most drivers need it badly to improve their results on track. There's absolutely no excuse can be made for me to skip sim work. Besides, I need to do something to get my mind off Oscar Piastri and our results.

***

I make it to McLaren Technology Center at 9:20. Which, in my defense, is still quite early. Carrying donuts and drinks for my team in both hands, it is a real struggle for me to scan the badge to get inside. But nothing in the world can really challenge me, I swipe the badge successfully after a few tries without needing to call out anyone. The door of simulation suite opens with a soft hiss.

Putting down stuffs on a nearby table, I see someone already inside the pod. For a split second, I was about to joke if my engineer wanted to take my job but from the shape in the seat, I realize it's Oscar.

Oscar is already working in the sim pod. At nine pm. In the dark.

Of course he is.

My stomach drops a little. Just enough to feel the twist inside, nothing dramatic.

Tom calls me from behind of his table. We exchange a quick hello before he informs me some information: "Hey Lando. You are earlier than I thought. Oscar is going to finish his last lap in a few minutes".
"His last lap?" – I repeat – "Since when is he here?"
"About 4pm I think. It's been a long day" – Tom replies without looking up.

Five hours and thirty minutes. That's how long Oscar has been here without me, practicing, working, trying. I swallow something sharp and stupid.

No one can ever become the World Champion by mistake or by chance, it's the result of hours spent behind the scene, trying to make things work. There's a part of me actually scared that Oscar is going to perform better than me, take my Championship and leave me useless.

I watch him as he finishes his lap – smooth, steady, fast and barely any wasted motion. And then the thing haunts me in my sleep – the corner lines look familiar.
Oscar climbs out of the pod, immediately spots me and offers a smile. "You are early Lando".

I shrug, "Can't wake up at 4pm like you do".
"I want to test out the new system and see if I could change any setup for the race".

Just that. Casual. Not a hint of pride or whatsoever, like it's so normal to grind for 5 hours and thirty minutes straight.

Oscar steps aside so I can walk in the pod. Prepare myself for the simulation, I focus on the screen, the wheels, the lines. Everything immediately becomes background noise once my attention is fully put on the race. As if it wasn't just a small pod all the way in England, I feel like I'm actually on the race with cheering everywhere.

Push lap. Brake. Turn. Avoid. Check tires.

Even when I'm driving, I could feel something weird hanging in my body. Participation. Connection to something I can't quite name yet.

Oscar is standing next to Tom, eyes fix on the screen when I climb out of the pod. There are 2 colors on the screen, purple for Oscar and orange for me. Now both of those colors are overlapped, being carefully zoomed in.

"Patterns look similar again, but the timing is different" – Tom says, zooming in and out at different places on the screen – "At turn 6, Oscar took 0:232 seconds and Lando took 0:256 seconds, but the way you guys turn the wheel and lean in are the same. Here in turn 11, the timing and driving pattern are also matched"

I can feel Oscar leaning in closer to the screen, leaving no space between us. The heat from his body is entering mine, making me involuntarily want to stand closer.

He points at numbers on the screen, points it out for both me and the performance engineer to see: "Same turn in. Same mid-corner behavior. Same timing at this turn".

Oscar glances sideways at me, as if to ask "Are you using witchcraft on me?". I know he would never fully let that accusation go. I roll my eyes, "Probably just the setup problem"

Tom claims the engineering team is about to have an important meeting in the morning so he has to leave early. He promises to send the full data analysis in the afternoon the next day, but I'm too impatient for that. I told him to go ahead and I would stay behind a bit to work on the data. Oscar decided to join me, insisting he was having a hard time falling asleep these days and could only go to bed in the early morning.

Oscar tilts his head towards the vending machines in the corner of the room, "Want something to munch on? You didn't bring me any donuts so it's on you"

"It's only because I didn't know you would be here this late"

With a chocolate bar in our hands, we both walk back to the table to work. The air feels heavier now that only we stay here, only us get to see if the numbers are going to be the same again. The screens are glowing in front of us, waiting to be used.

Oscar sits down and there's no other chair right next to him so I take that one while try to be as cool as I could. We exchange some random compliments before opening the data.

Orange and purple lines are almost identical that I lose track of my own statistics.
"This is odd. We can't keep blaming on the machines because apparently they made no mistake" – Oscar slowly admits the weirdness of whatever this is. I let go a sigh, feel much more relaxed that Oscar is sharing the same brain cell with me now. At least he will stop thinking I'm crazy.

He lifts a finger, points at a small gap on the screen, "This is where we both lifted the steering wheel. I notice I shouldn't have done that but it's just a habit of mine. I don't know why you do the same thing as well"
"Maybe I'm putting a spell on you Mr. Piastri", my joke and attempt to make things lighter earned a small chuckle from Oscar, but then silence comes since both of us have no other theory to share.

"I'm not trying to beat you nor be you, Lando. I just want you to know that"
Oscar's voice sounds soft, like a slow song. Something flickers in my chest the moment I feel his voice, his breath next to me. A small and stupid warmth I definitely did not wait for.

I sit a bit closer to him now, still pretending like those numbers on screens take all my attention. His knees bump mine under the table, barely a touch, barely anything but makes my skin ached for more.

We just sit there while silence fills the room. I stop paying attention to find the reason why, stop caring. All I want is Oscar's warmth next to me. That's all I need for this exact moment.