I got 6 & 8, and those positions shuffled after the race, so I tried to weave it together! (Lewis + Kimi -> Kimi + Ollie)
Ollie found Kimi through the crowd, years of friendship improving his magnet abilities. Only, when he squinted harder, he noticed Kimi was talking to... Lewis? Huh. Well, that was new. They were all colleagues, sure, but besides some very generic and mostly mandatory well wishes at the beginning of the season, the veteran drivers hadn't mingled a whole lot with the rookies.
He only let himself approach when Lewis seemed to be done, shaking Kimi's hand forcefully, nothing like the elegance he projected most of the time.
"What was that all about?" Ollie asked, landing a hand gently on Kimi's shoulder.
Kimi spun around, a smile already on his face. That was one of Ollie's favorite things; knowing that when Kimi found him, he'd be greeted with this smile, the one that Kimi seemed to keep only for him.
"Weird. He was talking so fast, telling me that even if Mercedes is good to me now, any top team can fuck you over if you're not careful, stuff like that," Kimi frowned.
Ollie's eyebrows rose of their own accord, a pale imitation of Oscar's famous face - not that he was trying. "Ominous. Hey, don't sweat it. Old man probably regrets his move, with the state of Ferrari this weekend."
Kimi grabbed the hand Ollie had left on his shoulder and brought it down, lingering only for a second before letting go. Ollie tried not to show his disappointment - he liked when they held hands. He shook himself. Kimi was just. Kimi. He didn't know the effect he had on him.
"Careful! Are you even supposed to say that, if you ever hope to get in with them? Forza Ferrari and all that? I think they'll know when they scan you or whatever it takes to enter their team. They'll see you once spoke badly of them," Kimi joked, pointing a finger at Ollie's chest like this was where they'd find his true intentions, in the scan. Kimi had a talent for spinning a story.
Ollie rolled his eyes. "I wasn't speaking badly. I was stating facts. Anyway, it's more likely a compliment than anything, I think. You've been steady and fierce, and maybe the grid is realizing us rookies aren't joking around."
Kimi bumped his shoulder to Ollie's. "That's right. Overtaking a Redbull in a Haas. Great moves. Great sass."
Ollie laughed at that. He had to get back to the team soon, had a debrief ahead. Yet he seemed rooted in this spot, basking in his friend's presence. Briefly, Ollie wondered if he would get flack for the repeated Ciao he had doled out with abandon. Probably not. It helped, to show personality in this sport, right? He shook himself, realizing he had let the conversation die.
"Yeah. Let's both keep that up for the whole season, okay?"
Kimi gifted him another smile, before squeezing his shoulder and disappearing into the crowd.
Once again thank you to @powerful-owl for this fun concept!!
2 & 7
"So, is it everything you'd imagined?"
Lewis whips around, his eyes piercing through Max immediately. When Max was younger, he had seen those eyes and thought they belonged to a man well put together, a man who could beckon a golden apple in his hand just by thinking it.
But now, after years of sharing the same space - the shifting, merciless paddock; the stupid, over the top galas - well, he knows that's not quite true.
Away from the cameras, Sir Lewis Hamilton shrinks. There's a weight on his shoulder than even his physio can't fix. Bags under those eyes that the public will never see.
But mainly, there's a hardness there that's reserved only for him.
"The food here? About what I expected," Lewis quips, ever the diplomat.
Max sighs. He knows this dance. Lewis will never engage in a real conversation with him. Max supposes he has contributed to burning that chance years ago.
"Right. Well, whatever you've been eating, you're looking good."
Lewis' eyes narrow at him, trying to find the jab in his statement. But there is none. Max means it. For his age, for the endless sleepless nights Max knows Lewis is plagued with - he's infuriatingly hot.
Not that he'd admit anywhere else than in the cacophony of his own mind. He's about to turn away when Lewis finally speaks.
"Thanks, Max. You've been looking good yourself. It's too bad Redbull won't give you that white livery anymore, the kit suited you."
Max hates that he perks up at that. He can't think on it, spotting a hand wave pulling him to a media event he knows he can't avoid.
Hey ho! Challenge time 😉 open your Spotify Daylist, find the 8th song on the list and write a quick drabble based on the 8th line of lyrics 🎵
Send this to 5 friends and feel free to change the song or lyric number. Have fun! 🖋️
Hello dearest anon <3
Thank you for bringing this challenge my way once again!
Your dog - Soccer Mommy
Guess I'll curl up on the couch
Their kitchen's counter top was sticky with the Prosecco it had been christened with - they hadn't wanted to spend the money on Champagne. But this was a celebration nonetheless, this decently spacious apartment they'd signed a lease on.
It made sense, to go from college roommates to proper flatmates. Logan and Oscar, Oscar and Logan, mentioned together by their former classmates as if they were a "frequently bought together" deal on Amazon.
Logan watched Oscar, whose cheeks were tinged pink from the alcohol. He was drafting a plan for their IKEA trip the next day, detailing the few couches he was considering.
It was the happiest Logan had been in a long time, he thought, as he invited more bubbles onto his tongue.
🛋️🛋️🛋️
“Sorry Lo, I have plans tonight.”
Oscar threw the barest look of apology in his direction, before grabbing his keys from the ugly pottery bowl Logan had made in class.
The hairline cracks on the bowl's structure felt oddly familiar to Logan's heart. He forced himself to shrug, projecting nonchalance as he said there'd always be next time.
The door clicked shut behind Oscar, and Logan sighed. This was already the fifth, no… sixth “next time” he'd issued since Oscar had started seeing that guy. And it was a good thing, right? Oscar getting out of his shell, going for the things he wanted.
Except it felt like they didn't even live together anymore. Logan barely saw Oscar, only knowing he'd been there in the echoes of his chaos - in the bowls loaded carelessly in the dishwasher, or in the hoodie abandoned over the couch.
Logan picked up the latter without noticing. He curled up on the couch, holding the hoodie against his chest as he turned on some mind numbing show.
He didn't notice he was crying until the salt landed on his lips.
Hey ho! Challenge time - open your Spotify Daylist, find the 11th song on the list and write a quick drabble based on the 1st line of lyrics🎵
Send this to 5 friends and feel free to change the song or lyric number 🖋️ have fun!
HELLO DEAR ANON THIS IS SO FUN
I didn't catch my daylist title before it refreshed but the song was Tear You Apart - She Wants Revenge. I flipped the line though!
Cause there’s always repercussions when you’re dating in school...
The new student had transferred mid-year. Max had not been mean to him, but they were not friends. Him and Charles.
Max tried to steer clear of him, actually. Every time he glanced at Charles’ face, his father’s voice echoed in his head, nails on chalkboard: wrong. But…
They were on the same team for the monthly orientation course. Lost in the woods, irritated, sweaty, and fucking cold, Max let his eyes linger. Charles caught him looking. Then – his lips were chapped, but – not wrong. Never wrong. Charles was everything right.
