No one warned you that being around Oscar would feel so… peaceful.Not boring—definitely not that.
Just calm in a way that didn’t make sense in a sport as loud and chaotic as Formula 1.
You found him sitting off to the side of the paddock, casually sipping something and scrolling on his phone like he wasn’t minutes away from driving at ridiculous speeds.
You always look this relaxed?” you asked, stepping closer.He glanced up. “Pretty much.”“That’s mildly terrifying.”“I’ve been told that.”
You sat down beside him, expecting the conversation to fade into awkward silence—but it didn’t. Somehow, Oscar had a way of making quiet feel normal, not uncomfortable.
“So,” you said after a moment, “are you nervous at all?”He tilted his head slightly, like he was actually considering it.
“Not really.”“Not even a little?”“I mean,” he shrugged, “if I crash, that would be inconvenient.”You stared at him.“Inconvenient?”“Yeah.”“That’s your word choice?”“It feels accurate.”You couldn’t help it—you laughed. “
You’re unbelievable.”“I try.”There was the smallest hint of a smile on his face now, barely there but real.A few minutes passed, people rushing by, engines roaring somewhere in the distance.
The usual chaos. But sitting there with Oscar, it felt oddly quiet—like the world had turned the volume down just for a bit.
“You don’t talk a lot, do you?” you said.“Not unless I have something good to say.”“And do you right now?”He looked at you for a second longer than usual.“Yeah,” he said simply.
“I’m glad you came over.”That caught you off guard.“Even though I’m distracting you before a race?”“You’re not distracting,” he replied.
“You’re… less stressful than everything else.”You blinked. “That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”“I can make it sound more dramatic if you want.”“No, no—this is perfect. Very on brand.”That earned a quiet laugh from him.
A team member called his name from across the paddock, and Oscar stood up, brushing his hands together like he was about to head into something completely ordinary instead of a race.
“Guess I should go,” he said.“Yeah… try not to have anything too ‘inconvenient’ happen.”“I’ll do my best.”He took a step away, then paused.“I’ll come find you after,” he added.
“If you’re still around.”There was that calm confidence again—like it wasn’t even a question.
“I will be.”He nodded once, like that settled it, and walked off.And somehow, even as the noise rushed back in and everything sped up again
