I wake up to fabric brushing on my cheeks and slowly realize it's my clothes instead of bed sheets or pillows. I crack one eye open and immediately find Oscar standing over me, already addressed and too put together for someone who allegedly slept the same amount I did.

"You are doing that thing again", I mumble half-asleep.

"Which thing?"

"The silent plotting thing."

He smiles, completely unrepentant and holds up a shirt to ask me, "black or white?"

I blink at the question confusingly, "Why am I choosing clothes like I'm about to be judge?"

"You are, just not by the internet and government."

That wakes me up properly and makes endless questions for Oscar to answer. Apparently, there seems to be a meeting between drivers this morning which I have no idea about.

"2026 grid, drivers only", Oscar reconfirms the idea. "Every team knows. FIA knows it's happening but they can't figure out what's going on to be said."

By the time we arrive, I still don't fully understand what I've walked into. The room is large but not suffocating, chairs scattered everywhere, most seats are already taken. Liam's got his coffee balanced dangerously close to a laptop. Kimi and Ollie are casually chatting in the corner. Charles jokes about how this feels like a school detention but now involved geopolitics. Arvid still wears his ridiculously huge sunglasses even though we are indoors now.

Lewis holds a microphone in his hand, stands up in front of everyone then clears his throat once. The room falls silent immediately.

"Let's ground this before someone livestreams it by accident. I won't say I think Bottas might be that one person but...."

The room erupts in laughter but soon dies down. Lewis looks around, eyes steady, taking in faces he's raced against/with/around for years. "We are not here because we are bored. We're here because two of our own are being asked to disappear quietly because they are in love."

My heart races so hard it might explode any minute now, but I try to play it cool and keep listening to Lewis. "We've seen how it works. Silence. Plausible deniability. Waiting for the heat to pass. But we are not doing it anymore."

Alex raises a hand with his stupid joke to lighten the mood, "For the record, I'd like it noted that I am extremely uncomfortable with how mature this conversation is."

Max takes over the microphone in Lewis's hand and starts talking. None of his word is polished but more powerful than anything. "I'll be very clear. Right now, Oscar has more points than I do. If they want to exclude Oscar and Lando then I'm not going to play their game. I'll fucking throw the race. I'll hand it to Oscar publicly, I'll make sure the message is loud enough for the whole world to hear."

His words land like a dropped plate in a room full of men starve for success. Max still continues with his speech, glancing briefly between Oscar and me. "This isn't about friendship. I just don't race in a championship that decides winners based on who they're allow to love."

Silence stretches in the room as everyone absorbs the weight of Max's decision. George lets out a low whistle, "That's my divorced husband, ladies and gentlemen. May I have a round of applause for his straight-forwardness?"

The room fills with laughs and clapping sound while Max glares at George like he's ready to end his life any minute now. But George doesn't care, he laughs so care-freely back at Max and even tells Kimi to go over to his dad, which Kimi actually listened obediently.

"What is happening to Oscar and Lando sets a precedent not only for us but also for the future, prevent human with hearts entering this sport and giving the best shot they could". Lewis nods and everyone devours everything being said.

"I mean", Charles chimes in, "what's next after this? Kicking people out for their bad taste in music?"

"Then you'll the first one", Carlos calls out from the other side of the room before listing songs which, according to him, are illegal to listen to before a race. Ollie laughs when Lana Del Rey's depressing songs are mentioned.

Oscar finally speaks, calm but steady. I let him do all the talking because I don't want to cry. Not now, not here, not when I get so many supports I don't know if I'm even deserve to get.

"We are not asking anyone to sacrifice their careers, we are asking you to decide what kind of sport this is, what kind of human you are. You don't have to do it for us if you don't find it in you and we're totally okay with that."

Alex snorts under his breath, "You don't ask but we're doing it anyway."

Before I get the chance to open my mouth to tell everyone to think twice about the whole situation, Max cuts in as if he could read my mind.

"I'm not going to race the last race if Oscar and Lando are not there, simple and decided."

"Count me out too", Charles.

"I won't race if they don't". "Me too". George and Kimi

"Neither will we". Esteban and Ollie

More and more statements are made and when it's over, Lewis stands up, still with a microphone in his hands. "We are agreed on the same thing then. I'll organize a meeting with FIA representatives this afternoon with some drivers, please let me know before that if you want to change your mind. From the bottom of my heart, I would like to say thanks to every single one of you, we are making history, I swear."

Alex grins so wide that I'm afraid his cheeks might get hurt. "We are about to ruin those bastards' morning, let's go boys."

In this small room, surrounded by familiar faces I should have considered as rivals, I find some relief for myself. They didn't hesitate, negotiate or ask what it would cost them, all of them just agree to protect our love. No matter what it takes.

***

Lewis is the one who asked for the meeting and it shows in the way he enters the room first, unhurried, already carried the authority of someone who has been listened to for a long time. The rest of us follow him close by, try not to bump into each other or accidentally laugh at a random moment.

"Thank you for meeting us", Lewis says when he spots all FIA representative are already seated, "we won't take much of your time."

"We understand there are concerns –", one of the officials nods as if he is already aware of the reason why this meeting is set up the way it is.

Lewis tilts his head slightly, amusement in his voice couldn't be concealed, "We are not here to express concerns. We are here to inform you."

"Us? About what?"

"Oh, nothing much, just some random things we chatted about". Max casually grabs a chair and motions us to do the same. He waits for all of us to sit down nicely, hands on our laps then continues. "I'll make this simple and I'll say it once. If Oscar and Lando are exclude from the final race, I won't race either. Good luck trying to find another me."

No opening lines, no preamble, Max just straight up drops the bomb onto the table. All FIA representatives suddenly sit up straight, one of them asks again to confirm Max's idea, "You're suggesting – "

Max cuts in immediately. "I'm not suggesting, I'm telling you."

George picks up without missing a beat, hides our direct attention under his polished words like a posh British gentleman he is. "This isn't an emotional reaction. It's a professional assessment of credibility. A championship decided by exclusion is not one we recognize as legitimate and we wouldn't want to get involved with that."

Lewis continues, he looks directly at the head official now. "If your decision stands, I will speak publicly. Not selectively or vaguely. It'll be the most clearly statement you would ever read in your life with no PR-trained words appear. I am a seven-time World Champion, something to keep in mind yeah?"

His threat doesn't have to be dramatic with curses or empty promises. History precedes Lewis as one the most talented drivers and a well-respected person. He doesn't need to say much.

Oscar speaks up for the first time since entering the room, he holds up our joint hands so everyone in the room can see. "I will not end my relationship. Not privately, not publicly, not temporarily."

"Our relationship isn't something to be negotiated. If racing requires that, then racing isn't the priority". I feel like I have to say something, so I did. Not too grand or fancy but that's the least I can do to reciprocate Oscar's efforts.

The FIA officer clears his throat, "Are you implying coordinated withdrawal?"

George slides a document across the table before anyone else can answer. "Every driver currently entered this season has signed. This states our intent to withdraw from the final race should exclusion proceeded."

Pages turn. Names appear. One after another without gaps or hesitation. 20 names with 20 signatures line up cleanly.

Lewis and Max don't bother to say goodbye with manners, they just throw the last line before dragging us out of the room, "What happens next is FIA decision and it had better be a wise one."