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a part of me — op81

pairing: oscar piastri x reader word count: 35.3k warnings: cursing and alcohol use includes: childhood friends to lovers, heavy angst, pining, soulmate!au if you squint, groveling!oscar, journalist!reader, and down bad oscar summary: when oscar and you reunite after a decade of being apart things are different. yet there’s parts of both of you that cling on to the past and a connection that neither of you can deny that makes things in the present even more difficult. everything in you tells you to not let oscar back in, but all he wants is to have is his other half back. can a bond that was once broken ever be mended? you don't think so, but oscar is determined to prove you wrong. a/n: hi!! i'm back!! so i started writing this in april and it took me the whole season to finish it...per usual lol. anyways this is my lonest fic i've ever written! so grab a snack and get comfy because this is wild ride. i hope you all enjoy and as always please let me know what you think! comments, reblogs, and asks mean the world to us writers! <3 masterlist

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Sometimes there are people that enter your life and you think there’s not a chance that you won’t have them forever. That there isn’t a thing in this world that could separate the two of you, but the universe has its plans set in place the minute that person enters your orbit and there isn’t a thing you can do about it.

Some people you do have in your life forever– while others you only have for a set period of time. And sometimes if you’re lucky the people who leave you come back eventually. The world works in mysterious ways and people drift apart, chapters close and new ones begin. It’s life.

Although you never thought Oscar Piastri would just be a chapter in your life.

Oscar and you had known each other since you two were in diapers. The Piastris were your next door neighbors and your parents had become great friends with them before either of you were in the picture. When both of your Mums fell pregnant around the same time they were ecstatic, the thought of their little bundles of joy having a friend just next door was a match made in heaven. Oscar and you ended up being just around four months apart in age and you never let Oscar forget that you were the older one.

From learning to walk and talk, learning your ABC’s, the arrival of siblings, birthdays, first days of school. If there was something that was to be remembered or commemorated– Oscar and you were side by side for all of it.

There wasn’t anyone you were closer with in the world than Oscar.

Your sister and Oscar’s sisters came a close second, but at the end of the day Oscar and you were each other’s person.

When Oscar started to race RC cars you helped him build a makeshift track in his backyard and when he made the move to actual karting– well it was a surprise to no one. He’d always been a little nerd about cars as a child and somehow had wrangled you into finding an appreciation for it at least. Your younger sister and Oscar’s sisters happily didn’t show as much interest.

The smell of exhaust and the sound of go-kart engines had become things you found comfort in when you were younger. Weekends spent with the Piastri’s at whatever race Oscar had entered into were some of your favorite memories as a child. From the ages of 10 to 14 there wasn’t a summer that wasn’t filled with racing. The unforgiving Australian sun would beat down on the track and you’d still sit there, sunkissed and supportive, your eyes glued to Oscar’s kart the whole time.

As the two of you got older and Oscar really started to take racing seriously your support never wavered, if anything it got stronger. You could tell even from a young age that Oscar Piastri was going to be somebody. And every March when the roar of the Formula 1 cars echoed through what was practically your backyard and you two sat in the grandstands you both knew that someday Oscar would be in one of those twenty cars that flew through Albert Park.

You just didn’t think for him to get there– that it would take him away from you.

The technicalities and culture of single seater racing was something you had no knowledge of. All you knew was that you loved to watch Oscar race, and loved to watch racing in general. So why should you at age fourteen know that racing in Europe would open so many new doors for Oscar and that it was inevitable that he move there to further his career.

Even as a young child Oscar had been attuned to other people’s emotions. He was the calm in most chaos and could read the ones closest to him like a book. Which makes his decision to not tell you about him leaving until the night before the dumbest idea he’s ever had. He should have known how you would react and maybe this dumb decision was also a form of self preservation.

If he didn’t tell you then maybe him leaving wouldn’t be real and if he didn’t tell you till the last minute then none of your shared memories towards the end would be tainted with the dark cloud that is your other half moving across the country. In the end no matter how mature Oscar was for his age– he was still a fourteen year old boy trying to figure out how to tell his favorite person that he was moving 10,000 miles away and that he didn’t know when he would be back.

The old swingset creaked beneath him as his feet lazily dragged through the grass. The sun was beginning to set over the coast and the slight chill in the air let him know that summer was coming to it’s end, just like his life here. He’d texted you to come over ten minutes ago and with each passing minute he was that much closer to not even telling you about him leaving. He can already imagine the look on your face when he tells you and it makes his stomach churn.

He hears the back gate open and then latch as it swings back closed. Your footsteps shouldn’t be making any sound against the plush grass, yet to Oscar it sounds like you're stomping with the force of an elephant as you make your way towards him. His grip on the metal chains were so tight that his knuckles had turned white and when he hears you sit in the empty swing next to him he thinks his heart is going to pound out of his chest.

“Sorry, I had to help Mum with the dishes before I came over.” You’re met with silence and a blank faced Oscar, who isn’t even looking at you. You lean forward slightly in the swing to get a good look at his face and he won’t even make eye contact with you. “What’s wrong?”

Your mind starts going through endless possibilities, it wasn’t like Oscar to not say anything to you and now you feel guilty for not getting here sooner– he clearly has something going on. Did a grandparent die? The family pet? Does he have a terminal illness?

“Oscar what’s going on?” You pry again.

“I’m going to England.” He blurts it out so fast you can barely understand him, but Oscar figured it was like ripping off a bandaid– get it over as quickly as possible.

“What did you say?”

“I said I’m going to England.” He still won’t look at you and he knows it’s cowardly, but he can’t help it.

You give him a strange look, why is he acting so weird about a trip to England? It’s just a vacation before school starts back up– at least that’s what you think he’s implying at first.

“Ok– how long are you guys going to be gone? Do we need to watch Rosie?”

He finally works up the nerve to face you and you can’t believe he seems to be in this much agony over going to England on vacation. Little do you know that in a few seconds you’re going to wish all that was happening was a vacation.

“You guys won’t need to watch Rosie because I’m the only one going to England.” Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and before you can ask a follow up question he goes and rips your heart out. “Y/N– I’m moving to England.”

Your brain can’t seem to process the information and your mouth tries to form words, but all you can focus on is the word moving. Not visiting or going on a holiday– but moving. As in leaving Melbourne and making a new home someplace without you right next door.

He starts to ramble on about how it’s crucial for his racing career and that if he stays in Australia he won’t move up through the feeder series like he needs to. It’s all background noise as you try to come to terms with the fact that your best friend– your other half practically is moving half way across the world. “Dad’s going to stay with me for a couple months until I get settled, but I’ll be back for the summer and Christmas and maybe some other school bre-”

“When are you leaving?”

Oscar pauses for a moment, knowing this is what is really going to hurt you and he hates that he waited so long to tell you. “First thing in the morning.”

You feel your stomach drop and a ringing start in your ears. Not only was he leaving, but he was leaving without giving you any warning. Oscar had given you no time to savor your last moments together– instead he’s tainted them. The two of you lock eyes and you hate how he’s looking at you– like you’re some dog that’s on its last leg and getting ready to be loaded into the car to go get put down. The realization hurts and the lump in your throat only seems to be getting bigger as you really come to terms with the fact that everything is going to change between you two now. He’ll have a new life and you’ll become that girl he grew up with. A memory, pages in a scrapbook, a chapter in his life.

You’re pissed and upset, but Oscar Piastri is not going to get any tears out of you this evening. You’ll wait until you’re back in your room, with your One Direction pillow case to cry into and a Mum who will ask what’s wrong.

“Why’d you wait until now to tell me?”

Oscar shrugs, a lump as equally as big had formed in his throat as he watched you silently process the bomb that he’d dropped. He hated that he had to leave home– leave you, but he loved racing and he wanted to do what was necessary to make his dreams come true. “I thought that maybe if I didn’t tell you our last couple days together wouldn’t be ruined by knowing that I was leaving. I just wanted things to be normal.”

“Well things are never going to be normal again Oscar.” You counter.

And he knows that, but he doesn’t want to admit it. So he chooses to say nothing, instead he just stares back at you, memorizing every detail of your face, down to the last freckle.

On the other hand at age fourteen you feel like a lot of things are the end of the world, but god if this didn’t feel like it to you. You were so mad at him for keeping this from you and you want to be a brat and ice him out, but it’s Oscar.

Your Oscar.

So you hold it all in and try to enjoy what little time you have left with him. “You’re gonna hate England. It rains all the time.”

Oscar smirks a little at your comment, he thinks that maybe this won’t absolutely destroy the both of you. “It rains all the time here too.”

“Yeah, but it’s cloudy and grey there.”

“Then I’ll fit right in.” He’s referring to how he never tans, not even in the Australian sun and when he sees you smile a little the lump in his throat starts to shrink.

He promises to Facetime and text, anything to keep in contact and says that any chance he can get to come home and visit he will and you tell him not to forget about you when he gets his Formula 1 seat. It’s all a formality– the things you say to the other person when they announce their departure from your life.

Eventually the stars make their way into the night sky and Oscar knows he has to be up early for his flight in the morning, but he wants to soak up every last minute with you that he can. “I’m leaving at seven in the morning if you want to come over and say goodbye before I leave.” Oscar states as the two of you stand by the back gate, trying to stay out for as long as possible.

“Yeah I’ll be over.” You state before letting the gate close behind you.

“Goodnight.” Oscar says as the two of you stand separated by the fence.

“Night Osc.” Your voice is soft and gentle and Oscar knows you’re acting like this isn’t killing you, mainly because he’s trying to act like it isn’t killing him either.

He watches you as you cross over into your yard all the way until he sees you disappear through your backdoor. He stands there for a second, trying to capture this moment in his mind. This is one of the last times he’s going to see you for who knows how long and he doesn’t want to forget it.

That night you cry into your Mother’s arms while Oscar packs and repacks his suitcase until he can’t think straight.

Morning arrives in the blink of an eye and before the sun can even make her grand arrival in the morning sky Oscar’s parents are loading up the car with luggage. He’s stalling–his eyes constantly shooting over towards your front door, hoping that any second you’d walk out that door and come give him a hug goodbye. But you don’t come over and Oscar almost misses his flight waiting for you. He starts to go over and knock on your door, but his Mother stops him dead in his tracks. “Let her have her space honey. She’ll call you when she’s ready.”

There’s no hugs or goodbyes exchanged. No texts or calls. Just Oscar standing there facing your house with his suitcase, hoping, praying that you would come out and at least say bye. Time runs out and he ends up watching your houses fade away into the distance from the backseat of the car.

This was the official start of a new chapter in his life and as his Dad turns onto another street and he can no longer see your house or even his own he knows this is the end and beginning. He’s leaving behind his family, his childhood memories, everything he’s ever known to chase his dream.

But most importantly he’s leaving you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oscar has always been able to adapt to things quickly in life. There was no tantrum thrown when each of his sisters arrived. There was no first day of school meltdown picture to be found. He took to karting like a fish takes to water. And so Oscar really thought that this move to England would be a piece of cake– but he was dead wrong.

He missed home.

He missed you.

England was depressing and not even the prospect of racing could cheer him up, not until you finally reached out to him. Which was a week later.

Oscar swore the sun had never shone so bright in England as it did the day your name popped up on his phone. It was a simple text– how’s England? But Oscar treasured it like it was the winning lottery numbers.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to fall back into your old habits and sometimes it was like you both were just right next door and not across the globe. As the weeks turned into months Oscar slowly started to feel more at ease. Racing and school took up the majority of his time and when he got the chance the two of you would talk, but that would soon come to an end.

His first year away Oscar came home for what seemed like every school break and it was great to be able to see him and you two spent as much time together as you could. It was Oscar and you– just like old times. But even with things seeming like old times, there was still that looming cloud hovering above you, knowing that Oscar would eventually leave again.

Then as those months turned into years, life and the distance between the two of you started to take its natural course. The calls stopped, texts were either unanswered or boiled down to birthdays and holidays, flights home weren’t booked. Oscar was making a life for himself and he’d clearly settled into the English boarding school lifestyle all while pursuing his racing dreams. You on the other hand were also living your life, just 10,000 miles away. You were passionate about your education and had made new friends that as far as you know weren’t going to move across the globe.

To say you still didn’t keep tabs on Oscar as the years passed was a straight up lie. Social media and Oscar’s sister Hattie kept you in the loop even without the communication from Oscar, maybe it was a little sad, but you don’t just get rid of that connection you have with someone overnight– or in your case years.

So when Hattie lets it slip one night that Oscar is bringing home his girlfriend for Christmas in a couple weeks you aren’t the least bit surprised. Oscar may not have been the best social media user, but his private instagram showed a whole different side of him. You’d started to notice the same girl that seemed to be in all his group photos with friends at parties and then eventually they’d be next to each other in group photos, looking more than friendly.

It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out that seventeen year old Oscar had bagged himself his first girlfriend. Her name was Lucy and she was gorgeous and clearly had a brain on her. You may have done some digging on her one night when you were feeling a little depressed, which was a bad idea in general. You hadn’t spoken an actual word to Oscar in lord knows how long and yet you felt this possessive wave wash over you and you hated yourself for being like that. Oscar had his new life and you had yours, yet at times you still felt like you were still fourteen when it came to anything pertaining to Oscar.

You smile at Hattie, plastering on fake enthusiasm towards the fact that Oscar was coming home, but only to show off his new girlfriend. Not to come see you, because god forbid he come see you. The resentment and abandonment issues you’d harbored against Oscar had truly come to light in recent days– since the announcement of his trip home with his girlfriend in tow. It wasn’t fair to his girlfriend and in all honesty it wasn’t fair to Oscar, communication is a two way street and you had stopped reaching out too. There were clearly some deeper feelings that were arising over this, ones you wouldn’t come to realize until years later.

Your Mum is the second person to mention Oscar’s big trip home to you and you once again plaster a fake smile on your face and tell her that you can’t wait to see him- fully knowing that you’ll find an excuse to miss the already planned joint family dinner. In another universe it would be like old times on Christmas, but this is the same universe that ripped your person from you, so the flu would be making an appearance this Christmas alongside Oscar’s girlfriend.

Christmas arrives and so does this stomach bug that you can’t seem to shake. Of course you don’t want to risk getting everyone else sick, so Christmas Eve night is spent alone, in your room. You’re grateful that your Mum doesn’t push you to suck it up and just go. You know deep down she knows you aren’t really sick and the real reason as to why you aren’t going, even though you won’t admit it to yourself either. Cult classic Christmas movies play continuously as you stuff your face with the extra sugar cookies your Mum didn’t take next door. It’s about as depressing as you can get on Christmas Eve, spending it alone out of spite, but you're seventeen and there wasn’t any other logical solution than to play fake sick.

The opening title to Elf starts to play on the TV when your phone dings, the text notification lighting up your phone. You glance at it, not really bothered to reply to whoever is trying to reach you, but the name that illuminates across the screen makes you do a double take. Your hand whips out from under the blanket and grabs your phone.

oscar: you’re missing out on your mum’s sugar cookies. the candy cane one still looks like a penis even after all these years.

Your heart is pounding out of your chest as you read the text over and over, making sure you’re not hallucinating. How dare he just text you out of the blue like that? Text like you two haven’t gone almost two years without speaking regularly. It’s annoying and you hate how much it affects you. How you can’t seem to get your emotions in check when the mere mention of him is brought up.

you: eat an extra one for me. i’ll be puking my guts up if i try and eat one of those tonight.

You take a deep breath and press send, reaching for one of the cookies to occupy you while you wait for the inevitable no reply. He’s probably laughing it up with his girlfriend over your Mum’s horribly shaped, but delicious, cookies. It should be you over there, yet here you are being pathetic and hiding.

oscar: feel better soon.

you: thanks.

You toss your phone back onto your bed, before wiping the excess cookie crumbs from your shirt.

What a shitty Christmas.

Your Mum and Hattie don’t really mention how Oscar’s visit went or how you somehow avoided him like the plague the whole time he was home, considering you live next to each other, and for that you are thankful. When he leaves back for England a few short days later you pretend not to care that it coincides with your birthday. Not that you would be up for celebrating with him if he even offered, but the fact that he didn’t even send a birthday text after texting you out of the blue on Christmas Eve has you wondering if he knew you weren’t sick.

Oscar always could see through your bullshit when you two were younger and you knew he knew that you wouldn’t miss Christmas Eve even if you had the bubonic plague. It was your favorite time of year and he never let you live down the year you had been so sick that you’d practically lost your voice, but still insisted on singing Last Christmas with your froggy voice– thus the Kermit nickname that stuck with you for a year was born.

There wasn’t anyone that you knew everything and nothing about at the same time like Oscar Piastri. To you he’ll always be fourteen and you think that’s why you’ve had such a hard time with this adjustment of him not being in your life even years later. Because to you– the Oscar that you know– wouldn’t have forgotten about you, but the sad part is that is the Oscar you know. The seventeen year old Oscar has every part of fourteen year old Oscar in him and when you finally accepted that and let go of what you once knew life seemed to get easier or you were just getting older. Either way you weren’t going to miss another Christmas because you didn’t want to face the boy who ripped out a piece of yourself and took it with him to England.

The following spring Oscar doesn’t come home for your graduation from high school or even send you a congratulations text and that summer when he comes home to celebrate his graduation you’ve already moved out.

The best decision you ever made was to move out as soon as you could. As much as you loved the Piastri’s, being next to them was a constant reminder of Oscar and once you started University you really wanted a fresh start. You wanted to start this new chapter in your life Oscar free. You’d spent all of your teenage years trying to adjust to not having the person in your life that you thought would be there forever.

It was an adjustment being away from home, but god did you thrive once you got settled. This was the place you were going to become you– to make your mark on the world and plan for the future. You just didn’t think that future would somehow involve you being at the 2025 Australian Grand Prix.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You’d graduated from your University at the top of your class with a degree in journalism and you’d landed a job at one of the top establishments in Melbourne not too long after graduating. You were passionate about journalism and wanted to cover the world’s historical events. The things you see in LIFE magazine or The New York Times. Never in your life did you think you’d be sent to cover the events of the freaking Australian Grand Prix.

When the email came across your laptop first thing in the morning you thought it had been sent to the wrong person and you replied to your boss with a– was this meant to go to me? Only to be met with– Yes. I heard through the grapevine you have connections to the Piastri’s. Give me a one on one with Oscar and coverage of the weekend and we’ll talk about that promotion

You read the reply from your boss about a hundred times before realizing this was real life and not a hallucination. You wanted to die. This felt like a punishment and you were drawing a blank on what you did to deserve it. At this point in your grown life Oscar wasn’t even an afterthought. You were twenty-four years old. You hadn’t thought about him in the way you used to since before you started University. Yet, it makes your stomach twist a little at the thought of seeing him again all these years later.

Of course his face was plastered all over the city the past couple years when Grand Prix time came around, but you’d grown to see his face as some random model that you see in every store advert. Not the boy you once knew everything about. That Christmas Eve six years ago was the last time you had any communication with Oscar and now you’re going to have to show up at his work and act like you were just any other journalist.

Life really was a bitch sometimes, but you were a grown woman and god dammit if you weren’t going to suck it up and get that promotion. You didn’t go through four years of schooling and horrible internships to lose a promotion because of Oscar Piastri.

Your Mum was the one to break the news to you about Oscar finally getting a seat in Formula 1. It was text on a random Tuesday afternoon and you remember feeling genuine happiness for him in the moment. It was something he’d wanted since he was a kid and to see him accomplish his dreams no matter how you felt about him or how you two had fallen out didn’t matter at that point in time. Because all you saw was the two of you as children and weekends spent watching Oscar karting, the yearly paddock adventures during the Grand Prix weekend. It’s bittersweet because you thought you’d be there beside him when he got to that moment in his life, but for him to get there he had to lose you.

For a brief second you think about texting him and congratulating him, but you talk yourself out of, hell you didn’t even know if he still had the same number all these years later. You like his iconic tweet involving Alpine, lost in the thousands of other interactions, and leave it at that.

The week leading up to the race weekend you theorize how this is going to happen, every possible outcome and by Wednesday you think you might start balding from how stressed you’ve made yourself, but you weren’t going to back out at the last minute. You were going to walk into that paddock tomorrow morning with your head held high and give the best damn coverage of the weekend and interview with Oscar that the world has ever seen.

Well that was the plan.

You’d made it to Albert Park without a hitch and triple checked that you had everything you could possibly need before you left your apartment. You made your way to the paddock entrance, trying to blend in as much as possible. That is– until your pass won’t scan. You try holding it at every angle against the scanner and the pillar consistently lights up red, you even go as far as trying a different entry lane and you’re still met with the glaringly red denial of entry. You feel like all eyes are on you and you’re sure everyone thinks you're some freak that’s got a bogus pass and is trying to sneak into the paddock, but your pass couldn’t be more legit.

There’s hundreds of cameras waiting at the entrance to get the first pics of the drivers entering the paddock for the first time this weekend and you’re praying that Oscar doesn’t show up during all of this. A worker starts to come over after watching you struggle for what seemed like forever, but before they can even speak a British accent sounds off behind you and then a burst of McLaren orange shows up in your peripheral vision. You panic for a minute thinking it’s Oscar, but then you realize he’s not British and that it’s his teammate Lando.

He puts his pass up to the scanner and is met with the same fate as you. “Oh my god how have they not fixed these. Start of the new season and it’s not working, once again.” The two of you make eye contact briefly and he notices you’ve been dealt the same cards. “Yours not working either?” He asks, completely ignoring the entourage he has surrounding him trying to get his pass to scan for him and the worker quickly coming to his aide, unlike you who had to wait. You shake your head no at him and try your pass one last time for good measure– no entry once again. “I’m just squeezing past the turnstile. I’d do the same if I were you.”

You watch as the curly haired driver squeezes his way between the metal turnstile and the wall before immediately being swarmed by fans who don’t know what personal space is and photographers trying to get the perfect shot. You decide the chaos of Lando arriving is the perfect opportunity for you to sneak in and so you squeeze through, not as easily as him though, who seemed to have the waist of a Victoria Secret model. You weren’t going to waste anymore time, figuring that if Lando was here then Oscar surely wasn’t far behind.

As you walk through the paddock memories of the last time you were here flash in your mind. A lot had changed since then– in your life and in the paddock. You didn’t think back then that this is how your life would have turned out. Sure you figured Oscar would be here, but you didn’t think you’d be here under these circumstances or that Oscar and you weren’t glued at the hip anymore.

The hustle and bustle of everything starts to get overwhelming and the idea of seeing Oscar again after so long is actually starting to become a reality. The nerves were settling in and you could feel your stomach twisting the closer you got to the media area. There aren’t many other reporters and media personnel when you enter the room so you seize the opportunity to lay claim to the seat in the last row, practically tucked into the back corner by the plastic fern.

Oscar was supposed to be in the second set of drivers that had to do the press conference today and you were praying you could hide back here with this fake plant and that he wouldn’t spot you. There’s only five rows of seats and they aren’t very long rows, so chances are he’ll spot you, but hell he probably doesn’t even know what you look like now. So what did you really have to worry about?

The first round of drivers goes by without a hitch and you actually get some good material for your weekend coverage. You’re also proud of yourself for using the lull between panels to get a head start on your work instead of spiraling over seeing Oscar. That is until the doors open and the new set of drivers trickle into the building.

Your eyes are glued to each driver as they walk in and make the short journey to the couches at the front of the room. Kimi, Charles, Max– they all filter in one after the other and you're left waiting for the final person to make their grand entrance. The creaking of the door opening makes your eyes dart over and when the hint of the McLaren team kit peaks through the door frame you feel your heart rate sky rocket.

The moment your eyes lock onto Oscar you think you might have blacked out for a brief second. He’d changed so much since the last time you actually saw him in person. He was a grown man now. Pictures and videos online didn’t do him justice. He had gotten so big. He had the broadest shoulders, the fabric of his shirt straining against the buff muscles of his upper body. His hair had grown out some, it was the same sandy brown color, but more fluffy than when he was younger. And that neck– Jesus that neck of his. It was so damn thick and made the two moles on his Adam’s apple, something you used to love about him, even more prominent.

You’ve been so distracted taking in Oscar’s grand arrival that you don’t even realize the press conference has officially begun until the reporter next to you stands up and starts asking Oscar of all people a question. Which means all of his attention is focused towards the back of the room, the row you’re sitting in, the person next to you. His eyes are bound to wander to the people on either side of that reporter, but still you try to scoot closer to the fake plant, hoping that either the plant hides you well enough or that if Oscar looks to the left and sees you that he doesn’t realize it’s you. You think that the back row has to be far enough back that Oscar can’t clearly see anybody right?

You were so wrong.

The plant does absolutely nothing to hide you either and the two of you lock eyes for the first time in almost a decade.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oscar Piastri was a patient man. He’d done his time in the feeder series, spent his childhood karting, dedicated his life to be able to chase his dream and after a tricky rookie season and a rough start to his second season this season seemed to be the one he’d dreamed about. The season he’d patiently been waiting for.

He’d been anxious, ready for the season to start and to show everyone what he was capable of, especially in the beast of a car the team had developed, not to mention the first race of the season being his home race. Oscar was ready to put the first points on the board towards the championship title. There wasn’t anything that could throw him off his game this season. Or at least he didn’t think there was.

The walk into the paddock this morning had Oscar filled with excitement. There was nothing like seeing all the fans, especially hometown fans, so ready to cheer him on when he’s out on the track. Autographs are signed, pictures are taken, it’s all second nature to Oscar now. McLaren’s and his own personal social media person are in tow– camera’s in hand capturing all the good content they can to kick off the season. Even though it’s only media day it’s still a jam packed schedule and his press officer makes haste to fill him in on his day as they sit in McLaren’s hospitality unit.

“You’ve got team content to film first thing this morning, then the press conference at one, and then this afternoon there’s a one on one interview we’ve set up with a local journalist. Sort of like a hometown special thing for your home race. Should be good publicity and a good piece for you to ramp up excitement for the season.” Sophie, his press officer states.

Oscar nods as he shovels another forkfull of eggs into his mouth. Sounds like a normal media day to him– except it’s not.

Content filming is Oscar’s own personal nightmare. Lando makes it easier when they do joint content, but when he has to film solo stuff he wants to jump off a cliff, but nonetheless he powers through and grabs a quick lunch before heading to do the press conference. Oscar is the last driver to arrive and he’s not late by any means, but when he passes through the double doors and sees the room full of press and the other three drivers already on the couch waiting for him he puts a little pep in his step and scurries towards the empty spot next to Charles.

As Oscar gets settled into his spot his eyes scan the room. The front row is filled with some familiar faces, veteran reporters that have been doing this their whole lives and are there to cover every race weekend. The room is pretty full, there’s only about five rows of chairs so there’s quite a few people standing along the sides too. Oscar’s gaze wanders through them as questions are rattled off to the other drivers. He starts to daydream, thinking about what his Mum is going to make for dinner tonight since he’s back home for the weekend when the sound of his name being called out snaps him out of his trance.

“Oscar. We all know it’s the start of the season, but McLaren has been predicted to be the front runners this season. Will there be anymore Papaya Rules or will we get to see a distinct number one and number two driver this year?”

Oscar focuses his vision to the back row where some guy with a big beard and round eyeglasses is standing up, notebook in hand waiting for some headline worthy answer from him. Oscar takes a deep breath, a small smile on his face as he gets ready to recite the pre-rehearsed PR answer that’s been drilled into him.

“Well– it is still very early. We haven’t even got a practice session in yet. But the team of course will assess everything after every race and it’s always been–” Oscar’s eyes wander to the left as he rambles off the textbook answer to the reporter, but who he locks eyes with has him stumbling over his words. He does a double take at first, surely thinking his eyes were playing tricks on him, but no he’d recognize that face anywhere.

Y/N.

Even without seeing you in person for god knows how long he still kept tabs on you through social media, but to see you in person, in the flesh has his mind scrambled. What were you doing here of all places? He feels his heart pounding in his chest and for a moment the two of you are like deer stuck in the headlights of a car. His mouth feels dry and his fingers grip the microphone like it’s about to run away from him.

He feels a light elbow shove from Charles and realizes he hasn’t finished answering the poor reporter's question. “Um sorry.” Oscar states, clearing his throat before continuing. “Yeah it’s always been said that Lando and I are free to race so really we are just going to have to see how the season plays out.” Oscar quickly spits out some bullshit to finish answering the question. He prays no one else has any questions for him– he doesn’t think his brain can focus on anything else right now besides you.

He’s trying to not be creepy and constantly stare at you, but god he hasn’t seen you in forever and you’ve changed so much. He’d always thought you were beautiful, but to see you become this breathtaking woman, to see you grow into yourself is something he never thought he’d get to see in person. He figured he'd be keeping tabs on you through social media for the rest of his life. Although he always had a feeling that you guys would reunite when the universe wanted you to and apparently the 2025 Australian Grand Prix was that moment in time.

The press conference wraps up a few minutes later and Oscar is quick to his feet, hoping to catch you before you leave, but as soon as the cameras stop recording Oscar watches as you scurry out the back door and into the abyss that is a Formula 1 paddock.

Oscar is sure he’s made some fans and photographers upset on his journey through the paddock and back to Mclaren’s hospitality, but he doesn’t have it in him to play good racing driver and act like his whole world hasn’t just been turned upside down. The sound of the door to his driver's room finally closing behind him is the only thing that brings Oscar a small amount of solace at the moment. He needed some time alone to process what had just happened, he felt like he had more adrenaline coursing through his veins than when he stepped out of the car after a grueling race. The cool material of his physio table helps to somewhat ground him and just when he lays his head back on the makeshift towel pillow there's a knock on the door.

He groans at the sound, he couldn’t even get five minutes to himself?

“Yeah?” Oscar hollers as he slowly sits up on the table, his legs now dangling from the side.

The door opens and in comes Lando with a half eaten Kinder bar in his hand only to see a disheveled Oscar in front of him. “God, you look like you’ve seen a ghost. Looking a little paler than usual there, Oscar.”

A humorous scoff comes from Oscar towards Lando’s remark. “I think I might’ve.” He doesn’t have it in him to elaborate or even tell Lando that the person he once considered his person randomly showed up at the press conference moments ago after not seeing you for almost a decade. He’s thankful when Lando doesn’t pry to know more and starts going on about something pertaining to their passes.

“Nick has our new passes. I don’t know if yours didn’t work this morning, but mine didn’t. Although seeing a hot reporter while I was stuck this morning did make things a little better.”

For some reason Oscar is curious about this hot reporter that Lando mentions, it was nothing out of the blue for Lando to casually talk about how attractive some women are, but he has an inkling about the identity of this one. “What was she wearing?”

Lando shrugs as he takes a bite of his kinder bar. “Blue shirt, black pants, hair up in a clip. She looked to be around our age. Why did you see her too?” Lando states, a smirk slightly stretching across his face over the idea of Oscar also thinking you were hot.

Oscar immediately knows Lando is talking about you and it goes straight through him. He starts to get defensive, but then he realizes that Lando doesn’t know who you are or that Oscar knows who you are. No use creating an awkward situation over something like this, so Oscar bites his tongue. “I might have.”

Lando nods at his younger teammate, he was awkward sometimes, but this was a new awkward for Oscar. Lando knew there was something more going on than what he let on, but Lando wasn’t going to pry. If Oscar wanted to tell him something he would, so he throws the wrapper of his Kinder bar in the little trash can in the corner and reminds Oscar about the passes one last time before heading back next door to his driver's room.

A deep sigh escapes past Oscar’s lips as the door closes once more. He pulls his phone out of his pants pocket, his body almost moves in autopilot, clicking on your contact and pulling up a new text conversation. His thumbs hover over the keyboard, his brain is fighting with his heart as he types, deletes, and retypes the same message about a million times it seems. He doesn’t even know what to say to you, hell he isn’t even sure if you still have the same number as when you were fourteen, but he’s praying you do as he finally hits send on the most thrilling thing he’s done in a long ass time.

Oscar: hey this is oscar. i’m hoping this is still your number, but i’m almost positive i saw you at the press conference earlier. if that was you i’d love to get some coffee or something and talk. if that wasn’t you then disregard this message lol.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It was a miracle that you had found a secluded place in the paddock, away from all the prying eyes and cameras to have your mental breakdown. You really weren’t sure if you were going to throw up, shit yourself, or maybe do both. The simple connection you felt between Oscar and you just by making eye contact had your head spinning and your gut churning. The ding that sounds off from your phone only makes things worse. Of course you never deleted his contact, even after all these years, but honestly that wasn’t saying much. You still had your Girl Scouts leader’s phone number from when you were twelve.

His name glares from your phone screen as you sit against the back of some building by the dumpster. You don’t want to open it, afraid of the can of worms it will open if you do, but the curious part of you wants to know so badly what he wants. Like ripping off a bandaid you tap the text notification and your eyes quickly scan the screen.

You’d always wondered what would happen when Oscar and you would reconnect, so many nights as a teenager were spent imagining the perfect scenario, the same nights you let yourself miss him and stop putting on the facade that you didn’t care. There were a million scenes that you’d imagined, but you never thought you’d be in your twenties or that it would be at the Australian Grand Prix. You don’t want this to change your life, it’s not fair that Oscar can just seem to come and go from your life when he wants. And you know if he actually wants to reconnect– that part of you that you keep locked away, the part of you that still wants him in your life will overpower every step you’ve taken to move on with your life. You don’t want him to come in and taint everything you’ve accomplished without him by your side.

There isn’t time to respond to his text or even panic call your sister, because when you glance at the time it’s almost three. You should have been getting prepped for the interview fifteen minutes ago and now you are going to be late. Of course, because what else could go wrong today?

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oscar sits in the stiff chair, listening to Sophie say something to him about what not to say in his interview as they wait for everything to be set up. It goes in one ear and out the other because all he can think about is you at the moment. This will probably be the worst interview he’s been a part of, but he can’t help it, all he wants to do is talk to you right now. Not some forty year old man who thinks he knows him because they are both Australian. The guy is already running late, so that right there tells Oscar this is going to be a wash. He’s about ready to ask Sophie if this can be rescheduled when he hears the door open and the most angelic voice echo through the room.

There is a part of Oscar that thinks he may be dreaming again, that this whole day is just one big elaborate dream. Never in a million years did he think you’d be the one that was interviewing him. His mouth goes dry at the sight of you and he’s sure his jaw has dropped. Your cheeks are flushed, surely from running here and your hair has fallen out of the clip you've previously adorned, soft curls frame your face as you adjust the strap to your bag on your shoulder.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. First time here, I had trouble finding my way around.”

Oscar clocks the lie immediately, sure it was probably the first time being here as an adult, but the two of you were here so many years as children, so no it wasn’t your first time here.

“No problem, I think the cameras and everything just finished getting set up, so we should be good to go. If you want to take the seat across from Oscar. I’ll let you get ready and we will begin.” Sophie states, before grabbing a folder of what you were sure were important press documents, from the table next to Oscar.

You can feel Oscar’s eyes practically burning holes into you as you sit down in the chair opposite of him. You pretend to not notice as you set your bag down gently on the carpeted floor, quickly rummaging through it to find your notebook. It’s like clockwork, the way you set your phone on the small table next to you, the record button is pressed, and your notebook is opened to the correct page in what seems like record time.

There is still a part of you that thinks maybe you can act like you don’t know Oscar, but the moment you look up for the first time since sitting down and see those honey brown eyes that you once knew so well, you know there’s no use in even trying to fake it with him.

“Hi Oscar.”

To hear you say his name after so long should not have Oscar feeling this way.

Have him flustered like a teenage boy.

He hasn’t seen you in forever, he’s lived a whole new life without you, had a long-term girlfriend, done so many things without you in his life. Yet you seem to have this power over him even after all these years.

You two were always just friends, but anyone with two working eyes, hell even one, could see that Oscar had always had a soft spot for you, and deep down the both of you knew, even as kids, that your connection went way deeper than friendship.

Only who would have thought that connection would still be there after almost a decade of no contact.

“Hi Y/N.”

Silence falls between the two of you and Sophie looks on strangely from across the room. Shy– fond smiles creep onto both of your faces and Sophie is beyond confused as to what is going on. “Do you two know each other or?”

“We grew up together.” Oscar replies without taking his eyes off of you.

You aren’t sure what’s come over you– after being in Oscar’s presence for a mere few minutes it’s like the built up resentment you’ve harbored towards him over the years isn’t there. Maybe it’s the initial shock of seeing him again after so long, all the good memories and the hope that you two will reconnect and that maybe it will be like old times may be overpowering all the bad feelings and memories you’ve had.

Sophie slowly nods, the sight in front of her is not one of two old friends, but more like people who were more than friends or at least had some history. The energy between the two of you was charged like a live wire.

“Well that’s nice, but we should get this interview going.”

Hearing Sophie’s words breaks you out of your Oscar trance and has you coming back to reality. You were here to work at the end of the day and your promotion is riding on the quality of this interview.

You start with the basic questions to get both of you warmed up and as the interview progresses you start asking the more hard hitting ones. It’s going great and both Oscar and you are comfortable, laughs are shared and you know this is going to be a hit with your boss and the public. That is until you reach your last question and you know that as soon as the words leave your mouth and process through Oscar’s mind that it was maybe too personal to ask.

“Well Oscar, it’s been a pleasure being able to sit down and have this chat with you. I think we’ve gotten to know a little more about the man from Melbourne, but I have just one more question for you today.”

Oscar nods, “It better be a good one. Best for last as they say.”

You smile, glancing down at your notebook to verify the question before looking back at Oscar. “You’ve clearly come so far in your career and to be a Formula 1 driver is a dream that so many children have, but the smallest percentage of them actually get to fulfill that dream. Obviously everything that has happened in your life happened for a reason– to get you to this point in your career–to be one of twenty. But looking back, if there was one thing you could change that’s happened and still end up where you are today, what would it be?”

Oscar shuffles uncomfortably in his chair as he internalizes your question. You could hear a pin drop. It was so silent in that room, the atmosphere had gone from light and friendly to awkward and tense.

He immediately knows what the answer would be and it brings up every bad memory and emotion he has associated with that time. He clears the slight lump forming in his throat as he tries to figure out how to word this without airing out his and your personal business for everyone and their mother to hear.

“Um– well I’d have to say I wouldn’t have moved to England at such a young age to do Euro karting. I had a whole life that I abandoned. People I abandoned.” He looks you directly in the eye when he says it and he’s trying to say everything he never got to say through these code words, trying to express how he feels through his eyes, but he knows until he gets to actually talk to you it’s not going to make that big of a difference. “If I knew what I knew now and if I knew I could still fulfill my dreams I would have stayed in Australia.”

You don’t even know what to say, your throat is tight and your head is spinning. Oscar was talking directly to you– about you. He wasn’t just answering the question, he was trying to clear the air. Maybe you had indirectly added that question in hopes that he would answer the way he did. That even after all these years your thoughts that he maybe regretted leaving you behind were true and that the pessimistic ones that squashed those ones down were ones of self preservation in case he didn’t regret leaving.

“Well thanks for sitting down with me today Oscar and even getting a little deep here at the end. Wishing you the best luck this weekend and for the rest of the season.”

You quickly wrap up the interview, not even responding to Oscar’s response to your last question. The cameras are turned off and the crew makes quick work to pack everything away. Sophie mentions something to Oscar about a last minute team debrief before everyone leaves the track today before heading out the door.

Oscar makes no effort to get up and leave and you may have been packing up your things at a snail’s speed. Neither of you say anything, waiting for the other to be the first one to speak up. It’s not until the cameramen leave and you grab your bag to also leave that Oscar speaks up.

“Come to my parents for dinner tonight?”

You freeze, stunned at the words that come out of his mouth. The grip on your bag tightens and a tight lipped smile appears on your face. “I appreciate the offer, but I’ve got so much work to do tonight.” You had barely been able to handle seeing Oscar today, the idea of being back at the Piastri house with everyone again would be pushing yourself beyond your limits.

He knew he was pushing the envelope by asking you that and he knew your first response would be to decline, he can’t necessarily blame you, but he wasn’t going to give up without a fight. “Please. My Mum would love to see you, see both of us back at home for dinner. It would be like old times.”

That’s the problem you think… it would be like old times.

You open your mouth to decline once again, but Oscar beats you to it. “I also think we should talk. Just the two of us.”

There’s a million reasons you can think as to why you should not go to this dinner tonight, but you make the mistake of looking Oscar in the eyes and those damn eyes of his always have worked their magic on you. “Alright. I’ll be there.”

Oscar’s never looked more thrilled and he immediately pulls out his phone. “Great. I’ll text Mum and let her know you’re coming. She’ll be so happy.”

Well there’s no getting out of this now that Nicole has been informed.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The drive back to your apartment takes twice as long as it normally would– gotta love Melbourne this time of year. The only upside to this is that once you do get home you don’t have time to sit and turn yourself into an anxiety induced mess. You have just enough time to change your outfit and freshen up your hair and makeup before heading back out the door. The entire drive to the Piastri household is spent blaring music to try and distract you from how nauseous you feel. It doesn’t work and as you turn onto the street that held so many memories you swallow down the bile threatening to rise.

As you pull into the Piastri’s driveway you notice the lights are off at your childhood home. Which undoubtedly means your family is here too– great.

The five minute pep talk you give yourself as you sit in their driveway does nothing to calm your nerves, in fact the more you talk about not being nervous, the more nervous you get. You know you’ll be getting a text from someone soon asking where you are– that someone more than likely being Oscar and you don’t think you can handle him worrying about where you are at the monument. So you kill the engine, glance at yourself in the rearview mirror, take a deep breath, and force your legs to carry you to the front door.

Years ago you would have just walked right in, but things have changed and so you knock on the solid wood door. Hoping that maybe no one would answer and you could turn around, get back in your car, and be back at home in your pajamas. But of course you can hear the commotion already going on inside and in a few short seconds the door is opening. You don’t even think about the possibility of Oscar being the one to open the door and you pray to any god that’s listening that it isn’t him on the other side.

The sight of Hattie in front of you was proof at least someone was listening and your nerves subside for a moment. Grins adorn both of your faces as she pulls you into a bone crushing hug. The two of you hadn’t seen each other since last Christmas. Once you had moved out your communication with Oscar’s sisters had dwindled. Sure you guys kept in touch through social media and Hattie and you occasionally would text, but you think they all knew because of their brother they’d eventually see less of you. You loved all three of them like your own sisters, but they were all unfortunately victims of association to Oscar.

“Oh my god I’ve missed you!” She exclaims as she’s still holding you hostage in her arms. “Come on– come in. Everyone else is already here.”

The moment you step foot into the Piastri household a wave of nostalgia washes over you. This house held so many childhood memories that you would think it was your own home. The times you all would get yelled at for running around the house. The time you were playing hide and seek and Hattie got locked in the coat closet in the hall somehow. Or when Oscar and you somehow let a stray dog into the house– Nicole was beyond pissed about that.

You take it all in as you follow Hattie down the hall and into the kitchen, not much has changed since the last time you were here years ago.

As you make your grand entrance in the kitchen it feels even more like old times. Nicole and your Mum are sitting at the island– wine glasses in hand as surely chat about the latest neighborhood gossip. Your Dad and Oscar’s Dad Chris, are getting ready to throw something on the grill. Your sister Sam, Edie, and Mae are digging through the pantry, complaining about how long it’s taking for dinner to take. And Oscar– is nowhere to be found?

It’s at that moment that you remember one important detail about Oscar.

His girlfriend.

How could you forget about his girlfriend?

There’s no way she would miss his home race. They are probably up in his room right now.

Before you can spiral and think about how awkward this night is going to be and how you never should have agreed to come you hear your name being called and excited gasps echo through the kitchen.

“Y/N! Darling!” Nicole comes barrelling towards you, arms wide open as she pulls you into a hug. “When Oscar texted me earlier that you were coming for dinner I thought I was dreaming! It’s so nice to have everyone here all together again. Reminds me of old times.”

Mae and Edie are next in line to give you a hug and Chris says hello while chopping up some vegetables.

You move to linger near your Mum, hoping she’ll ease your nerves and of course like the Mother she is, she notices straight away. She wraps her arm around you and presses a light kiss to your temple. “Hi sweetie. I’m glad you came.”

Sam gives you a questioning look from across the kitchen island– a raised eyebrow thrown your way as she munches on some pretzels. You give her one back that says you’ll talk later–you’re sure there will be even more to unpack after tonight.

“Y/N honey would you like a glass of wine?” Nicole offers as she’s already grabbing a spare glass from the cabinet and popping the cork on a fresh bottle. You figure some wine might loosen you up– make this evening a little more bearable. So, you take her up on her offer and take a gulp of the sweet liquid.

A lull in the conversation allows for Sam to start talking about some crazy thing that happened at her job the other day and honestly you’re grateful to be able to just lean against the counter, sipping your wine, and not having all the attention on you.

Three Sam stories and a glass and a half of wine later you’re feeling more than comfortable. The wine and no sign of Oscar for the last hour has your nerves settled and your giggles echoing through the kitchen. Edie had brought up the time that Hattie and you thought it would be a good idea to try and dye her hair pink without Nicole knowing. Long story short the bathtub got stained pink and the dye didn’t even stay in Hattie’s hair.

“Don’t forget that Rosie somehow ended up with dye on her fur and that’s how Mum found out.”

The sound of Oscar’s voice behind you made you nearly jump out of your skin. You slowly turn around to see him standing in the doorway with a smug smile on his face as he stares directly at you.

You almost feel like your feet are cemented to the tile floor– like you’re frozen in place as you make eye contact with Oscar, like there was no one else in the room but the two of you. You pretend not to notice the little bit of relief that washes over you when you don’t see his girlfriend in tow, but you won’t hold your breath, she could show up at any minute.

“Oscar! Nice of you to finally join us now that the hard work is done and it’s time to eat.” Chris’s voice breaks you out of your trance and your eyes quickly flicker down to your glass. Your face feels hot and it’s totally because of the wine and not anything else– right?

You hear Oscar rattle off something about having to stay later at the track– last minute media duties as he helps his Dad carry the food to the table in the dining room.

The speed at which you hurry into the dining room and sandwich yourself between Mae and Sam so you don’t end up having to sit next to Oscar is slightly embarrassing. You watch as the other empty seats get filled one by one, but the one thing you don’t think about is who is going to sit across from you. Of course the final seat open is the one across from you and the one person left to sit down is Oscar.

Honestly you think it would have been better to sit next to him, you weren’t even thinking about him sitting across from you and how you’ll have to look at him the whole duration of the meal.

The beginning of dinner isn’t horrible per say, you focus on eating and trying to not make eye contact with Oscar. Everyone is mostly enjoying their food, not talking much, and you think maybe it might not be as bad as you fear. That is until Nicole asks a question that has everyone’s eyes darting towards you.

“So Y/N. We knew you went to school for journalism, but we didn’t know you were going to do sports journalism. According to Oscar you were at the track today and you guys did a little interview together? Does this mean we’ll be seeing you at all the races?”

You smile softly, embarrassed that the topic of conversation has turned towards you. “Um, yeah I hadn’t planned on doing sports journalism at all. I wanted to be in like war torn countries or reporting on major historical events. But I’m still considered new enough that I basically have to take what my boss gives me.” You push around the green beans on your plate as you talk, your eyes occasionally flickering around the table looking at each person.

“The Australian Grand Prix is a historical event.” Oscar chimes in with a teasing smile painted across his face.

Which makes you want to fling a green bean across the table at him.

Before you can make a smart ass comment back to him Nicole chimes back in. “Well I’d like to personally thank your boss for making you cover the race. I’ve missed having you around Y/N.” Nicole pauses a moment as she looks at you with the most sincere look you’ve seen from her. You watch as her eyes travel across the table and land on her son. “Missed having Oscar here– having both of you here.”

You think that if she could reach both of you she’d have you both wrapped up in her arms and you can see the raw emotion on her face as she keeps looking at both Oscar and you. There’s something inside of you that tells you to look at Oscar and when you work up the courage to direct your line of sight towards him you see those big brown eyes of his already staring into your soul.

Unbestowed to Oscar and you, everyone else at the table is witnessing the thing they knew would happen all along. Your Mum and Nicole share a knowing glance and your siblings try to stifle their giggles at how obvious it is.

When Oscar and you lock eyes it's truly like you both forget there are other people near you. There’s a connection that everyone else can see, but the both of you seem to be blind to it, or you’re just refusing to feel it. It’s been that way with you two for as long as anyone can remember and the fact that you guys haven’t seen each other in almost a decade and it’s still the same has both of your Mothers more than smug about how right they were about the two of you.

“Well dinner was delicious. Thank you for having us over.” You Dad is the one to break the silence and your eyes immediately dart away from Oscar, cheeks flushing as you realize that you’ve just gotten lost in Oscar’s eyes in front of everyone. You stare down at your mostly empty plate, moving around a stray green bean with your fork.

“Thank you, it was a lovely dinner. Like I said, it was just so nice to have us all here together again.” Nicole reiterates as she begins to gather empty plates from the table. “I also made tiramisu, so no one try and skip out early!”

You make quick work to start helping clear the table and even go as far as starting the dishes, anything to not have to face Oscar. Your cheeks are still hot as you scrub the dinner plates, your mind is anywhere but here at the monument and you don’t even realize you’ve been washing the same plate the whole time until you feel the touch of a gentle hand on your shoulder. You jump slightly, dropping the plate into the sink, not realizing how zoned out you really were. Turning slightly you see your Mum standing behind you, a look of concern and understanding painted across her face as she presses a hand towel towards you.

“Honey, why don’t you go out back, get some fresh air. Nicole and I will finish this up.”

Your Mum is a woman that you don’t want to argue with when she tells you to do something. So, you nod, knowing she knows how in your head you are and gladly take the towel from her– wiping the soap suds from your pruned fingers.

The sun is just starting to set as you step onto the back patio, the sliding door closing behind you. There’s a slight breeze in the air and the cooler evening weather is some relief to your rosy cheeks and clouded mind. You’re just about ready to take a seat on some of the patio furniture, when you hear a sound reminiscent of your childhood.

Towards the back of their property you spot a rusty old swing set– the breeze had caused the swings to move– loudly squeaking as they do. The once vibrant red swing now showed signs of weathering, rust peaking through where the paint had come off. It had provided years of entertainment and went through multiple children and even with it showing signs of wear, it still stood strong in their backyard.

A small smile finds its way onto your face as you make your way towards the swingset, memories replaying in your mind as you sit in one of the empty swings. The chains creak as you move your feet, making the swing go higher and higher. You watch as the sun sets and the sky paints a picture of pinks and oranges for you to admire. For a good while you feel a sense of peace wash over you, being out here alone, reconnecting with a part of you that you haven’t felt in a long time.

But all peaceful monuments eventually get ruined.

You hear the sound of the patio door sliding open and then close, you don’t even have to turn your head to know who's come to ruin your alone time. The sound of his footsteps feel like they are shaking the ground as he travels across the patio, down the steps, and onto the grass. You keep your eyes focused on the worn patch of grass below you– your sneakers scraping against the dirt as you slow down.

He passes in front of you and from the corner of your eye you see him sit down in the swing next to you. Silence hangs between the two of you for what seems like forever. The pretty painting in the sky has been replaced by stars and neither of you have spoken a single word– that is until Oscar finally plucks up the courage.

“I still can’t believe you’re a sports journalist now, specifically a F1 reporter. Never thought we’d reunite via interview.”

You scoff, slightly rolling your eyes while you still look at the ground. “Don’t worry this weekend is a one time thing– I won’t be at any of the other races.”

Oscar frowns slightly at your tone and how you’re implying that he wouldn’t love to see you in the media pen every race weekend. He in fact feels quite the opposite about having you around and your sour mood that is heavily radiating off you has him confused. Sure things were bound to be a little awkward between the two of you, how long had it been since you’d seen each other? But this was more than awkward, this was resentment and Oscar wonders how things could have done south so quickly since the interview.

Silence falls between you two again for a brief moment and you hope Oscar just gets the hint and heads back inside, but you should know that Oscar is a persistent man and the inevitable heartwrenching conversation is bound to happen.

“You alright?” Oscar pries, his head tilting towards you slightly, hoping that you’ll look over at him and not the ground for at least two seconds. “Did I do something? You seem a little off from earlier today.”

You want to tell him to fuck off and to just leave you out here– alone. The inevitable is going to happen if he stays out here and you really don’t have it in you tonight to have this conversation, to open that can of worms. You still needed time to process everything and you know if you start talking about the past your emotions are going to take over.

“I’m fine, just tired. Today was a lot.”

Oscar nods– he agrees that today was a lot, but he can’t help but feel like there's something deeper going on with you. Instead of bothering you some more he decides to switch the conversation to something more basic, but oh boy was he wrong to do that.

“God, I’m surprised this swing is still standing. How much time did we spend on this thing as kids? Seems like we were always out here, but I can’t remember the last time it was actually used.” Oscar states as he looks around at the rusty old swing set.

That comment. The nonchalantness in Oscar’s voice. It all makes something switch in you. You finally look up from the ground to find him already staring at you. There’s a blank expression on his face, like he didn’t just crack open your deepest wound. It fills you with even more rage. You knew as soon as you opened your mouth there was no going back and that in the end you might lose Oscar again, but the years of pent up emotions and hurt override every instinct for you to bite your tongue.

“Are you fucking kidding me Oscar?”

Your tone is harsh and cold and it makes Oscar flinch slightly, his hands gripping the chains of the swing tighter. He doesn’t even get the chance to reply before you’re opening your assault on him once again.

“You don’t remember the last time we were out here? When you ripped my heart out. When you told me you were leaving for England the following morning and you didn’t know when you’d be back. Cause I’ll sure as hell never forget it.”

You can feel the anger coursing through your veins, the years of acting like Oscar leaving and ghosting you didn’t absolutely kill you. Sure maybe bombarding him with this probably wasn’t the way to go about it, but you’ve held it in for so long and he unfortunately struck the wrong nerve tonight.

Oscar freezes– he can see how upset you are and he feels like a piece of shit. Never in a million years would he ever forget that night, it haunted him for years, and he realizes he really should have chosen his words more carefully moments ago. But he also wasn’t expecting the conversation to go south so quickly. Sure things were a little awkward between the two of you, but that interview went so well earlier and dinner was great, he never expected for the night to have ended up here.

“Y/N– I could never forget that night. That’s not what I was referring to. I still feel horrible about how I went about telling you that I was leaving. I should have gone about it differently, believe me, the guilt ate me alive over the years.” He was telling the truth, the hurt look on your face all those years ago killed him. He hurt the person that meant the most to him and lost you in the process of his own actions down the line.

And now it seems he’s going to be reliving that night almost ten years later.

Oscar can see the same hurt in your eyes as he did that night and he should have known that if he wanted to have you back in his life, that he was going to have to face what happened between the two of you.

“You say you’ll never forget that night, but you forgot me Oscar. Even that first year when you came back home it wasn’t the same, half of you was with me and the other half was back in England. God, you were everything to me and you just left me behind like I was some old toy.” You can feel the angry tears start to form and you try to blink them back, not wanting Oscar to see you cry.

Oscar feels somewhat cornered, sure he was a stupid fourteen year old and yes he fucked up, but he felt like you also forgot about him at the end of the day.

“I get I fucked up and I’ll own up to that, but the phone works two ways Y/N. You could have reached out to me too. Our falling out isn’t all on me.” He pauses, pondering if he should even say what else he is thinking, but he figures the way this conversation is going, what's a little more fuel to the fire? “I also don’t know where this hostile attitude is coming from either. I get things are going to be awkward between us, but my bad choice of words does not warrant this hostile attitude. I mean everything was great at the track and dinner was good so tell me what happened to that Y/N? Because this Y/N in front of me right now is not the Y/N I remember.”

You can see the anger starting to show on Oscar now too and you’re positive this isn’t going to end well.

“You’ve clearly never seen a reporter do their job before have you? It took every ounce of willpower to actually show up to the track today. To show up to your house and act like me not seeing your or talking to you in almost a decade didn’t fuck with me horribly. I knew seeing you again would bring up all these emotions I’ve pushed down over the years. I mean fuck Oscar the first chance I got to move out I took, I couldn’t even stand being near your family, your house, it all just reminded me of you and how the person who meant everything to me dropped me like an old toy they didn’t want anymore. ”

You pause for a moment, trying to collect yourself, but it’s becoming damn near impossible. “I stopped reaching out when you did. I wasn’t going to waste my time and make myself look desperate when you had stopped responding. You’d clearly made a life for yourself without me and all I was going to be was the girl you grew up with.”

A single tear finally breaks free and Oscar watches as you quickly wipe it away–turning your head away from him.

“And to answer your question–I guess I’m not the same person you remember, but that’s because of you Oscar.”

Oscar feels a pang shoot through his heart– to hear you say these things has his emotions going in every which direction. Never in a million years did he realize you had felt that way or been affected so deeply by him leaving. Sure he had gone through rough patches, especially in the beginning, but he had racing, new people in his life, and a million other things to distract him from the empty part of him that you once called home.

He doesn’t even know what to say to you, he wants to reassure you, to apologize for being such a fuck up all those years ago, but he thinks the thing that sticks with him more than the others is that you think that you’d just be a memory of his, someone he grew up with. Oscar always knew that eventually you two would find your way back to each other, he didn’t know when or where, but he knew what you two had, your connection was one that wasn’t meant to only last for such a small part of your lives. It was a connection that would span lifetimes and universes. Even if it didn’t seem like it right now.

“You know you’ll never just be the girl I grew up with Y/N.” Oscar’s voice is soft as he speaks and it makes even more tears start to fall.

You take a deep breath as you wipe away the tears with the sleeves of your shirt, debating on whether or not to bring up something else that happened when you two were fourteen, but then you figure you might as well just get everything else out in the open tonight.

“Do you remember what happened the week before you left? That night at Hannah Payne’s house?”

Oscar feels his heart skip a beat, he doesn’t even want to talk about this right now, it makes his choice of how he told you about him leaving seem like an even bigger asshole move.

“I do remember it.” Oscar says sheepishly.

You laugh dryly as you replay it all in your mind. “When you kissed me you fully knew you were going to leave that following week.”

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

How Oscar and you ended up at the most popular kid in your grade, Hannah Payne’s house that weekend was beyond both of you, but you were and you were both way out of your limit. A game of seven minutes in heaven gets brought up and you think you’re going to shit yourself. You’d never kissed anyone before and so you start to spiral from that, but then you think what if no one even wants to kiss you, so then you start to spiral even more.

Your mind is spinning as fast as the old coke bottle on the floor and when it’s finally your turn to go you have to stop your hand from shaking as you reach out and twist the bottle. You try to calculate who it might land on as it slows down, hoping it’s not the kid who used to eat his boogers when you were younger, but the person it comes to a halt in front of is somehow worse than the booger eater.

Teasing ohhhs and giggles echo through the basement as your eyes travel up from the bottle and land on Oscar. You see a blush creep onto his cheeks, but even with the teasing he quickly stands up from his spot on the floor and crosses the threshold to stand in front of you– hand outstretched for you to grab onto.

You intertwine your fingers with his as he pulls you up from the floor and you two make your way to the old storage closet in the corner.

If it was anyone else you wouldn’t be feeling like your heart is about ready to beat out of your chest as the closet door closes behind you, but it’s not anyone else, it’s Oscar.

Oscar.

Your person.

No big deal right?

You’ll just tell him that you guys can stand there chest to chest for seven minutes in silence and everything will be totally fine.

Except you never open your mouth– you stand there like an idiot.

Oscar doesn’t say anything either for the first few minutes, but then he breaks the silence. “Do you think anyone else did anything?”

You laugh a little, fully knowing Hannah for sure did with booger boy. “Oh without a doubt.”

Oscar pauses for a second and you can tell something is on the tip of his tongue, even in the dark. “Do you think we should do something?” He finally chokes out, his voice cracking at the end.

If there was ever a time in your life where you thought you were going crazy– it was this moment. You know you didn’t hear him correctly, there was no way he was asking what you thought he was asking. Your response seems to die in your throat every time you go to open your mouth. He was kidding right?

Oscar wasn’t asking to kiss you right?

You feel his hand cup your cheek and you realize this is definitely happening.

“Can I kiss you?”

There’s a brief moment where you think you blacked out, his words going in one ear and out the other. “You want to kiss me?” You barely squeak out.

You can sense the eye roll and smirk on Oscar’s face even in the dark. “I wouldn’t be asking if I didn’t want to Y/N.”

The boy in front of you has been your best friend since birth, he’s your other half, he’s your everything. One little kiss won’t drastically alter things will they? You’d be lying if you said there weren’t times where you felt like your connection with Oscar was more than friendly, but you were only fourteen. What the hell did you know?

“Well what are you waiting for?”

That night Oscar and you shared your first kiss with each other. Blushed cheeks and giddy smiles adorned both of your faces as you eventually exit the closet, but the next day the both of you act like nothing ever happened. Like that kiss hadn’t altered so many things for both of you.

You weren’t going to be one to bring it up to Oscar back then, especially if you didn’t know if he felt the same things you did, but then he goes and leaves you the following week. Which confirmed the fear that had been clouding your brain that whole week.

That Oscar really didn’t care about you and that him kissing you meant absolutely nothing– even though it meant everything to you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

Oscar had a handful of regrets in life and while some of them were not that big on the regrets scale– the two or he guesses he should say three involving you were the worst.

It’s no secret that he regrets leaving you or at least leaving you the way he did and then basically cutting contact with you after a year, but the one regret he really has is kissing you all those years ago.

He didn’t regret it in the way it sounds because truly he would have kissed you a million times over, but it’s the timing of it that he regrets.

You two were so young back then and he knows a first kiss is special and it eats at him the whole week leading up to him leaving. Knowing that you two had formed this even deeper bond now and that he was going to break it, but at the end of the day he was just a kid, and the consequences of his actions didn’t really resonate with him at that point in time.

“God Y/N we were fourteen– we were kids.” Oscar really doesn’t know what to say, because truly at the end of the day they were just kids back then and he was a kid who had fucked up. He wasn’t saying he didn’t, but he was asking for a little grace.

His response makes you even more angry, yes you understood you guys were young, but at that age when anything like that happens to you– it’s gonna leave a scar. “You were my first kiss Oscar. How do you think that made me feel at fourteen? To have the person who meant the most to you kiss you then leave you for a decade?”

Oscar in a somewhat opposite way has the same scar as you, but his is more self-inflicted, and if he could take it all back he could. If he could go back in time and fix everything then maybe this wouldn’t be happening right now. But he knows that’s not possible and that everything that’s happened to you two has happened for a reason and that you’re both here, in the backyard of his childhood home right now because the universe wants you to be.

Silence falls between the two of you as crickets and the sound of leaves rustling in the breeze fill the void. He doesn’t even know how long you guys have been out here, but he knows it’s been longer than he’d expect. He knows this conversation is just going to continue to go in circles and there would be no resolution worked out tonight.

“Y/N look at me.” He demands with a gentle voice.

Your head raises slowly and his heart breaks at just how wrecked you look. This conversation had clearly taken a toll on you and he hates that in the end it’s him who’s gotten you to this point.

“You know I regret how things turned out between us with every fiber of my being. I said it in the interview earlier and I’ve said it now. I fucked up and I’m owning that, but I don’t know what you want me to do to make this better. We were kids back then and now we’re adults and I get that you’ve been holding on to this for years, but we’ve got to work past this.”

He pauses briefly, trying to gauge how you're taking this. “You don’t understand how happy I was to see you today, to get to talk to you. I’ve got you back or at least I think I do and I’ll do whatever I need to to keep you, but you’ve got to give me some grace. I’m owning up to my fuckups, but if you want us back like old times you’ve got to tell me what you want out of this conversation.”

Your head is pounding and your eyes are still blurry with tears. You sit there and listen as Oscar talks to you and when he mentions old times you want to bash your head against one of the metal poles.

There’s never going to be a point where Oscar and you in any capacity will be together like old times. You can try and replicate it, try and do the same things, but the old times were in the past for a reason. Things change, life progresses, things will never stay the same forever no matter how hard you try to hold onto them.

And no matter what happens– things will never be like old times between Oscar and you.

“I don’t know what I wanted out of this conversation Oscar. I guess for you to finally see how fucked up I’ve been since you left. For you to see how pathetic I am that I can’t get over the kid I grew up with moving away over a decade ago. For you to hear that I’ve held on to this grudge and at times wished I’d never met you because even after all these years you have this hold over me and I hate it. You’ve dictated my life for years without even being in it Oscar and it drives me fucking nuts.”

You take a deep breath, leaning back to look up at the stars in the sky. “I don’t know if there is anything for us after this conversation is over. Do you really think I can get over all this resentment I’ve harbored towards you.” Your eyes glance over at Oscar and you swear you see a single tear roll down his cheek.

“Deep down, if you feel the same way as I do, then yes.”

The sound of the sliding door opening breaks you out of this bubble you’ve been in with Oscar and you hear Nicole holler from the patio. “I’ve saved you two some tiramisu. You better get in here and eat it– I don’t think I can hold Sam off much longer.”

Oscar hollers something back to her so she’ll go back inside and when you hear the door slide close you push yourself up out of the swing. This was your sign to go home– no tiramisu will be consumed tonight. All you wanted to do was crawl in bed and never leave it.

There are no goodbyes exchanged, just Oscar watching you leave, but when you reach the back gate he speaks up.

“I know you feel our connection, even if it’s deep down buried under a hundred other things. What we had or what we have doesn’t just go away Y/N.”

You pause, hand frozen on the latch, but you don’t acknowledge him, no matter how right he is. There’s nothing else left in you for tonight. So the gate latches closed behind you and a wave of deja vu washes over Oscar as he remains glued to the swing.

He hopes you’ll just stay at your old house for the night, thinking it might help for whatever reason, but then he hears your car start out front and sees the headlights light up the street as you leave him behind.

When he finally works up the courage to make his way back inside the get together is still in full swing. No one notices him come in except for your sister who he knows was probably peeking through the window at you two outside alongside his sisters. He acts like he doesn’t see Sam staring him down as he makes haste to head up to his room. The old stairs creak beneath his feet as he begins his ascent and he’s almost halfway up them when his Mum’s voice stops him dead in his tracks.

“Where’s Y/N? Did you guys eat dessert?”

“No–she went home. I’m going to bed.” Oscar’s voice is monotone as he gives his Mum a blunt and straightforward answer. He doesn’t even bother to turn around to look at her as he continues his journey up the stairs. He didn’t have it in him to be bombarded with questions about you right now and he knew his Mum meant well, but all he wanted to do was climb into his bed and sleep on this.

Not only did he have this conflict with you now, but he also had the race this weekend to take into account. He needed to have a clear head for this weekend, but his brain was just clouded with you.

He’s sure he’s tossed and turned in his bed about a million times, but sleep still won’t greet him with open arms. His mind won’t shut off and all he can think about is how broken you looked earlier and how it's his fault. He wants to make things right, wants you to be back in his life permanently, but he’s scared too much damage has been done and that you won’t ever be able to get over how things ended up between the two of you. Hell, he’d get on his knees and beg for you guys to even just have a fresh start, but he knows you’re always going to carry that emotional baggage with you, and that you undoubtedly have abandonment issues now.

Back then Oscar did struggle a lot with not having you around, but he had racing to distract him, new friends, and eventually a girlfriend. There wasn’t anything in England that reminded him of you but his memories, your contact in his phone, an occasional social media post, and the fact that his Mum mentioned you more than what was necessary. There were no ties to you and even the strongest bonds weaken over time. He never thought about how you felt, how everything back home would remind you of him, how almost every aspect of your life he’d somehow tainted. In

Australia he was everywhere without even being there and he realizes that's why you took the move so much harder. You never really could move on with your life when he loomed at every corner. England allowed Oscar to start a whole new chapter in his life– a chapter without you in it. You’ve been stuck in the same chapter ever since he left.

He should have known that Christmas he brought his girlfriend home, when you faked being sick, that things had shifted between the two of you. He knew as soon as his Mum told him that you wouldn’t be joining them because of some stomach bug that you were faking it. He knew you too well. Hell would have to freeze over for you to miss Christmas with everyone. He’d tried to reach out, wanting to see if you’d nibble on his texts, but you only doubled down on the being sick ploy.

It was a weird Christmas that year and it wasn’t that he didn’t love his girlfriend back then, but it felt weird to see her sit in the seat you always sat in at the table, and for them to make fun of the penis looking cookies your Mum would bake every year. It was like you were there, but you weren’t.

And that’s when he realizes after being with his girlfriend for almost five years– that he’d used her to replace you in his life. They’d broken up last year– a mutual break up that ended on decent terms, but it makes his stomach flip to come to terms with this after so long. He’d found someone that could fill the void of you in his life and so yes he missed you and looking back he felt horrible about what he did, but that’s why he didn’t necessarily take the ghosting as much to heart as you. He had someone and as far as he knew you’d never had a boyfriend.

He flips back over on his side, his eyes scanning the shelf along his wall that’s been illuminated by the moonlight. Trinkets from his childhood, racing mementos, and any other thing he thought deserved a home resided on that shelf. A glimmer reflecting from the shelf peaks his curiosity and it wasn’t like he was on the verge of sleep so he swings his legs out from under the covers and walks over to the shelf.

There sitting on the dusty old shelf was something Oscar thought he’d lost years ago.

The summer when Oscar and you were twelve your families went on a trip together to Italy and in some tourist trap shop you two had found some simple red threaded bracelets. You’d always wanted to have matching bracelets with Oscar, but he hated wearing them. Somehow you’d convinced him to get these, it was a simple string, barely anything to it, he probably wouldn’t even feel it on his wrist is what you’d told him. So you both walk up the counter and Oscar hands over some Euros hoping it will be enough to pay for them. The lady behind the counter smiles at the two young kids standing before her and when she sees what they are trying to buy she smiles even more, gently sliding the bracelets back towards the kids.

“Sono gratuiti.”

Oscar and you don’t know a lick worth of Italian besides the basics and so Oscar assumes he owes her more money, he can barely get the bill out of his pocket before the lady shakes her head and speaks in a thick accent.

“Free.”

You both look at each other, eyebrows raised, unsure if she’s actually saying what you think she said. “Free?”

The lady nods, pushing the bracelets even further towards the edge of the counter. Oscar and you decide to grab the bracelets and leave before she changed her mind.

Those bracelets left neither of your wrists for a good two years, but the month before Oscar left for England he’d lost it. He looked for it everywhere, distraught over not knowing what happened to it. He assumed it had broken and just fell off his wrist and he had no idea how he was going to tell you. Luckily for him he was able to keep it hidden, long sleeves were his best friend, and then when he left he assumed you’d eventually stop wearing it. He just never expected to find it sitting on his shelf in his room all these years later.

He grabbed the bracelet from the shelf wiping the dust bunnies from it before sliding it over his hand and tightening it around his wrist. As silly as it seemed, the moment he slipped the bracelet on he felt a sense of calm wash over him, like a piece of him that had been missing was put back into place. He twisted the red piece of thread around his wrist, feeling as it rubs against his skin. How such a simple thing held so much power he didn’t know, but if there was one thing he could take as a good sign from today– it was finding this bracelet.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The morning sun is a harsh wake up call as you peel your face from your desk. Instead of coming home last night and just going to bed you decide to pull an all nighter and work on the content you’d gotten from the day. Sure seeing Oscar’s face was like a punch to the gut everytime, but what went down last night was not going to stop you from doing your job. You were getting this promotion even if it caused you your sanity.

Rubbing the sleep from your eyes you grab your phone and when you see the time you surely think it’s wrong or you’re still half asleep. You rub your eyes even harder, but the time on your phone stays the same.

Fuck.

You should have been at the track thirty minutes ago.

Shit shit shit.

You somehow make yourself look presentable in under fifteen minutes and are out the door and on your way to Albert Park without thinking about having to face Oscar again today.

Traffic is horrendous per usual and by the time you make it to the track FP1 is set to start in about fifteen minutes. You’d missed out on any pre-practice content, but you’d be set for the post practice sessions.

You watch the practice session from one of the viewing areas and it’s surreal to see Oscar actually out there doing what he’d always dreamt of doing. No matter what had gone down last night there's still that part of you that cares about Oscar and you know just how much all of this means to him. You just wish you’d been there to support him through it all.

The practice sessions go by fairly fast and you head towards the media pen ready to face the impending doom of seeing Oscar for the first time since last night. You were confident enough yesterday to act like everything was peachy with him, but after you took off the mask last night you weren’t sure you could put it back on.

The first driver to come up to your spot is Carlos and he’s the perfect driver to help you get warmed up.

“Hi Carlos. So first two practice sessions in the books as Williams driver and you seem to already be in tune with the car. Great sessions from you today– does that make you feel hopeful for qualifying tomorrow?”

There’s not many people in the world who can make you nervous or make you blush just by looking at you, but good lord if Carlos Sainz wasn’t one of them. He definitely knew how to use those big brown eyes to his advantage and you have trouble trying to maintain your professional composure.

“You’re new aren’t you?” He asks– a smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.

“I am.”

“I was going to say– I definitely would have remembered you from previous seasons.” He pauses for a moment and you honestly don’t even know what to say to that, so you just smile and pray you’re not as red as a tomato right now. “But to answer your question, yes I’m feeling hopeful for quali tomorrow. The team has made some amazing developments over the winter and if I can bring these practice results over to quali and race results then it’s going to be an amazing season. So yeah I can’t wait to get out in the car tomorrow and see what I can do.”

“Thanks for your time Carlos, best of luck tomorrow.”

He nods smiling back at you and as he walks off you wonder if he’s like that with every reporter.

You’d interviewed a handful of other drivers after Carlos and how you’d yet to spot Oscar is beyond you. Maybe he’s avoiding you–which you aren’t complaining about. You got the one on one done yesterday so you weren’t obligated to get anything else from him from this weekend– barring that he wins.

There’s other people wrapping things up near you and you take that as a sign that it’s time to call it a day. You’re packing up your bag when you see a flash of McLaren papaya out of the corner of your eye and you immediately turn your back hoping it’s not Oscar and that it’s either an employee or his teammate. The sound of a British accent and the mention of the name Lando from the person next to you lets you know at least it’s not Oscar, but you don’t want to risk turning around and finding him standing there next to him, so you grab your bag and hightail it out of there.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

That night as you're sitting on the couch in your apartment, scrolling on your phone as some random reality tv show plays in the background, a call from your boss comes through that ultimately changes your life forever.

“Hello?”

“Y/N. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time, but I need to talk to you.”

You sit up from your slumped position on the couch as worry washes over you. Are you getting fired? Did the interview with Oscar tank, did your work from today not meet his standards? It was very unlike him to call you, especially this late at night. The idea that this could be a call with good news didn’t even register as a possibility in your mind.

“No, you’re fine. What’s going on?” You reply back timidly.

“Well as you know the interview with Oscar has been posted and all your reports from today as well…”

He’s dragging it along and you already knew your boss was a sadist, but this is just confirming it in your mind. “And?”

“And I know I said if you do well this weekend then you’d be getting that promotion– more traveling, deeper storylines to follow and all that good stuff.”

“There’s a but here isn’t there.” Your tone is already defeated, knowing that even if you had delivered some riveting journalism this weekend he still wasn’t going to give you that promotion.

“But– the weekend isn’t even over and you’ve already blown me away with the pieces you’ve put together. That interview with Oscar is trending worldwide, we’ve never had this much engagement on our socials before. I knew you’d do well with this Y/N, but I never thought you’d give us social media trending interviews. I’m proud of you.”

You sit frozen on the couch, you heard him correctly right? You pull your phone away from your ear and go to Youtube, searching for the interview with Oscar. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see the view count on it.

1.2 million views and it was just posted this morning. You click on the comments and just about every other one is mentioning something about how Oscar is looking at you with heart eyes or how you two get on so well and then there’s one comment that throws you for a loop.

Someone was basically airing all your information and how you grew up with Oscar. People were beyond weird on the internet, but that does explain the amount of new followers you’ve gained on Instagram today. You assumed they were all bots– not Oscar Piastri fans.

“Y/N? Are you still there? Y/N? Hello?” The sound of your boss hollering your name through the speaker breaks you from your scrolling, but you just put him on speaker phone so you can continue reading the comments.

“Yeah, yeah I’m still here. I’m just surprised by how much this has blown up, it was just posted this morning.”

“You did great work kid and it shows. Connections will get you everywhere in life– keep that in mind.”

There’s no response from you– you’re still scrolling endlessly on your phone. Somehow someone had found an old picture Nicole had posted on Twitter and figured out you were the extra unknown person in the picture. You’d been tagged in it what seemed like a hundred times– was this going to be your life now? An extension of Oscar forever?

You were your own person at the end of the day and you weren’t going to let people start the narrative that you got to where you were in life because of Oscar, because that’s one big fat lie.

“Now– I was going to talk to you about this when you came back to the office next week, but I feel like the sooner we do the better– even if it is over the phone.” There is another pause and you swear if this isn’t him telling you you’ve got the promotion, especially after your privacy is currently being heavily invaded in a way because of him, then you might just quit on the spot. “That promotion. It’s yours.”

You feel the air escape your lungs and your heart is nearly beating out of your chest, you’d done everything to get to this moment and it all had finally paid off. That is until your boss continues speaking.

“Although it’s not what you’ve exactly been working towards. You’ll be traveling like you wanted, but not in the way you think. The sports division of the company was so impressed with your work that they are offering you a full time position as their main Formula 1 reporter. Which means you’d be going to every race this season to cover it.” He pauses letting you take this all in.

“It’s a one year contract and listen I know this isn’t what you really wanted, but Y/N you’ve got a real natural talent for this kind of reporting. I think you’d really excel in this division of the company and not to mention the pay increase you’d be getting. I know this isn’t the news you were expecting, but I really think you should take this opportunity.”

At first you’re pissed and rightfully so, you’d worked so hard to get this promotion and the one you’re offered isn’t even the one you wanted. But then the wheels in your brain start turning and you start to weigh your options. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t ever thought about doing sports journalism. It had crossed your mind multiple times during high school and college, but the only sport you’d ever found yourself knowledgeable on was Formula 1.

Sure, you could have done a little broadening of your horizons, but you’d only ever really loved F1 and that stemmed from Oscar, who you were trying to create a life without being reminded of him 24/7 and well look where that’s gotten you in the end. You knew this opportunity was one too good to pass up, but at the same time you were still passionate about the other form of journalism that you’d fallen in love with. If you took this job, would that eradicate the possibility of you ever being taken seriously in other kinds of journalism? You weren’t sure and it made your decision that much harder. Because in the end and Oscar issues aside you had genuinely enjoyed covering the events of the race weekend so far.

There were so many what ifs floating around in your brain you knew you couldn’t give your boss a sure thing answer right now. Could you handle seeing Oscar for however many weekends out of the year after not seeing him for almost a decade? You needed to talk to someone about this and get out of your brain, you just only hoped your boss would give you a couple days.

“Do I have time to think this over or not?”

“They want a decision by the time you come back to the office on Monday. Think it over, it is a big decision, and I’ll see you on Monday alright?”

“Okay thanks.”

The line disconnects and you’re stuck sitting there thinking– what the hell just happened?

You waste no time texting your sister an SOS text which means she’ll be over as soon as she can with a bottle of wine and some snacks.

It shouldn’t take her long to get to your apartment from her University, even with grand prix weekend traffic, but when you hear a knock at your door moments later you think she must have already been on her way over when you sent the text because there was no way she got here that fast.

When you swing open the door you're expecting to see your little sister standing there, wine bottle in hand with a bag full of goodies. Instead you’re met with the complete opposite.

Standing there with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, pink and white tulips to be exact, is Oscar. He’s got a sheepish smile on his face and the apples of his cheeks are flushed. He was the last person you expected to be standing behind that door.

“What are you doing here?” Your tone is harsher than expected, judging from the drop of emotion on Oscar’s face, but genuinely what the hell was he doing here?

His free hand awkwardly rubs the back of his neck as his eyes quickly dart in every direction but you. “Um- well I know last night was a rough night for both of us and I know showing up with flowers doesn’t change anything, but I’m hoping it’s a step in the right direction. I wanted to have a conversation with you, I wanted to talk now that everything from before is out in the open.”

Your grip on the door tightens, part of you wants to slam it in his face for showing up uninvited and thinking that after the night you two had that you’d want to see him so soon. But then there is that part of you that still cares about Oscar, still knows that connection is there deep down no matter how hard you want to push it down.

The two of you stand there for a moment in your doorway and then Oscar gives you that soft smile that’s always given you a funny feeling and slightly pushes the flowers towards you. “Please, just ten minutes and then I’ll leave.”

You grab the flowers from him, admiring them for a moment before looking back up at him. “You remembered?”

Oscar shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I remember everything about you Y/N.”

You want to hate how he’s breaking down your walls and you really do try and resist, but Oscar has always been your weakness. “Ten minutes Piastri that’s it.”

He slowly enters your apartment, glancing around at the various knick knacks placed around. Oscar doesn’t know what adult you is like, but from the little things that catch his eye around your apartment he sees parts of you that he knows. The record player in the corner with a massive music collection below it– you’d always been a music lover and Oscar can’t recall how many playlists you’d made for him on your old ipod.

The two of you would always be sharing a pair of earbuds instead of just playing the music outloud, you claimed it sounded better, even with just one ear hearing the music, while Oscar was just happy to be spending time with you. The snoopy plush sitting on the couch– every holiday season you’d force Oscar to watch the Charlie Brown movies with you and to this day if he sees anything snoopy related he always thinks of you.

Oscar watches as you pull out a vase from one of your cabinets and take the time to meticulously arrange the flowers in it. He’s trying not to stare, but there’s something about seeing you in such a natural state, your hair up and pajamas on, that makes him think you're the most beautiful girl in the world. He doesn’t want to seem like a creep and get caught staring so he sits on the couch next to Snoopy and waits for you to join him.

Meanwhile you’re moving at a snail's pace when it comes to putting these flowers in a vase. You don’t want to sit on the couch with Oscar and talk to him. There’s been no time for you to process anything and now you’ve got this promotion to think about– Oscar showing up tonight was the last thing you needed right now.

There’s a funny feeling you get in your gut when you glance up from the flowers to see Oscar sitting on your couch like he’s been here a million times before. It drives you crazy that even after all these years apart and how much you want to resent him that even if it’s tiny moments like this– there’s still that level of comfort and familiarity between the two of you. It’s something that will be there forever between the two of you. How deeply you’re ingrained into each other and it makes you want to throw up.

You’ve rearranged the flowers a dozen times by now and you know you’ve got to get this over with– you’ve got to be a big girl.

Oscar’s head turns at the sound of your slipper clad feet shuffling across the floor towards him. “Thanks for the flowers by the way. They’re lovely.”

He gives you that polite smile that he always does and tries to ignore the way his heart beats a little faster when you choose to sit next to him on the couch instead of the chair. “Of course. It’s the least I could do.”

Silence fills the space between you two– which is a common occurrence these days. Then you realize that he’s had to have asked someone where you live because you sure as hell didn’t mention it to him in the forty-eight hours since you two have reunited.

“How’d you figure out where I live?” You turn your body to face Oscar, your leg crossing under the other.

“Um I may have asked your Mum” He admits sheepishly.

Of course your Mum told him. You loved her and she understood you more than most people, but she also didn’t know that Oscar and you had gotten into that heated conversation last night or how much he really truly hurt you.

“Oscar, why are you here?” Your tone sounds defeated already and you’re afraid this is going to be a repeat of last night.

Oscar sighs deeply as he now finally turns to face you– mirroring your position on the couch. “I know last night was rough and if we are being honest with each other, it had to happen. We needed to get everything out in the open for us to even have a chance at getting back to how things used to be. And I know I’ve said this a ton, but I am so sorry about how things turned out between us, how I handled me moving away. It wasn’t fair to you. I got to go off and follow my dreams and while I did miss you it was easier for me I didn’t have any connections to anything in England.”

He hopes you’re really taking what he says to heart, but he wouldn’t blame you if you just ignored him either.

“I got to start fresh and build a whole new part of my life. I never thought about how you were stuck back in Australia with the old parts of me, stuck with memories and a life that involved me, but that I wasn’t there for. I abandoned you and I never meant to. But I think Y/N– I really truly think that maybe this was supposed to happen this is the universes fucked up plan for us and that we were meant to reconnect. I’d been thinking about you more this past year than ever since I moved and now this? It can’t be a coincidence. I know it will take some time, but I want you back in my life Y/N. Forever this time.”

A deep emotional breath rattles through your body as you process Oscar’s spiel. He says all this stuff, but does he really mean it? You’ve built up so many walls around yourself when it comes to Oscar you aren’t sure you can ever fully trust him again and if you do let him back in you think you might always be scared he’s going to leave again.

“You know Oscar for a while I had convinced myself that you were dead. It was easier for me to deal with the fact that you had stopped talking to me because your were dead rather than you not talking to me because you’d fucked off to England.”

Oscar can’t lie– that was a real punch to the gut to hear you say that. The more he chips away at you the more he learns just how much he hurt you and it fucking kills him.

The air is thick with tension and Oscar is afraid of what else is going to come out of your mouth. He watches as you chew at your bottom lip, a nervous habit you still haven’t kicked even after all these years. He knows the gears are turning in your head, knows there’s so much you want to say to him, but you’re scared.

You lean your head back, looking up at the ceiling as you try to conceal the emotions you’re feeling. You weren’t going to cry, not already.

“This is a lot Oscar it really is. We just saw each other for the first time in like a decade yesterday and you’re going on this big rant about how I was supposed to be put through some emotional warfare for us to be friends again in the future? I’ve got so much shit to work through when it comes to you and I mean why are you so adamant about me being in your life again? You’ve got everything you wanted without me– you’re a driver for a top team in F1, you’re rich, you’ve got a loving girlfriend–”

“I’m not with her anymore. We broke up last year.” Oscar interjects with a little more enthusiasm than you would think when talking about a break up of a long time partner.

The news of Oscar being a single man should not have much of an effect on your right? The weird feeling coursing through you right now is just surprise and nothing else. At least that’s what you tell yourself. The way he was so eager to tell you that she wasn’t in his life anymore meant nothing really. If anything he’s probably still in love with her, you don’t be with someone for that long and still not have lasting feelings.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.” Slips from your mouth, even though deep down you know you really don’t mean it.

He shrugs it off, acting like it was nothing.

“I’m so adamant about you being in my life again Y/N because I’ve realized there’s no one that compares to you– to the connection that we have. You’re my person and you always have been.”

“Oscar, this connection that you keep talking about, you’re thinking about what we used to have, back when we were kids. I mean you say this stuff but how can you be sure? What if things aren’t the same?”

He knows he’s got a long way to go with you, but he knows what he feels isn’t wrong. He just wishes you’d give him at least an inch to work with here.

“I know how I feel Y/N. What we had when we were kids was something beyond a normal friendship: we were an extension of one another– my other half. That doesn’t go away, no matter what has happened.”

He pauses for a moment as the two of you make eye contact and he can see how you want to trust him. He can see it in your eyes, but the walls you’ve built up are strong.

“I know you feel it too. I can see it in your eyes. I can see it even when you’re mad at me and you’ve got every wall you’ve ever built up, but there’s a little crack that light shines through and that light is the part of you that you’ve kept safe from the hurt. The part of you that is still connected to me.”

The tears that you’ve held back so well start to build up in your eyes and you hate that Oscar can read you so well still to this day. He’s right and you despise how right he is, but no matter how right he is and how you feel about him.

You’ve got to protect yourself at the end of the day.

“I can’t get hurt again Oscar. Say I let you back into my life, how will I know you won’t leave me again? I can’t handle that again. I mean fuck I’d dreamt about how it would be if we ever reconnected when I was younger, but older me has to protect the younger version of herself that’s still inside me. I don’t know what to do. My brain says one thing my heart says another. It’s all too much too fast. I want to believe you, I really do, but the hurt part of me and the fact that we just reconnected yesterday is throwing me all these red flags. You have to understand how I’m feeling Oscar.”

Oscar sees the first tear fall from your eye and without even thinking twice he reaches out and gently wipes it away from your cheek. “Y/N. I’m not going anywhere. I promise. If it takes the rest of my life for you to let me back in or for us to get back to how we used to be. I don’t care– I’ll still be here right by your side.”

Out of the corner of your eye you catch a glimpse of something on Oscar’s wrist as he moves his arm back into his personal space. Your breath catches in your throat and your stomach damn near falls out of your ass. You do a double take, thinking there is no way you’re seeing what you think you’re seeing. But you’d recognize that bracelet anywhere. The matching one was just in the other room, tucked away in a box of things from your adolescence. You were a hoarder of things that held memories so it was no surprise to anyone that you still had yours, but for Oscar to still have his and be wearing it? You were beyond shocked.

“You still have that?” You ask timidly, like it’s a weapon that’s going to hurt you, but honestly that bracelet could cause more damage to you than a gun right now.

Oscar’s eyes follow your line of sight and when they land on his bracelet clad wrist he instinctively reaches down to play with the excess string.

“Yeah. Found it in my old room last night, I thought I’d lost it right before I left for England.” He pauses, twisting the thin bracelet on his wrist. “If you ask me, it’s a sign. What are the chances of me finding half of our matching bracelets that I thought I lost years ago on the same day you came back into my life?”

You’re at a loss for words. Those bracelets meant everything to you back then and you’d still wore yours for a good year after Oscar left, even after seeing him not wearing it when he came home to visit. It meant more to you than it should have and to see him sitting here in your apartment with it on is throwing you for a loop.

“Um– am I interrupting something?”

Your little sister's voice snaps you out of whatever bubble Oscar and you had found yourself in and it’s times like this that you regret giving her a key. You quickly stand up acting like Oscar and you had just been caught having sex. “No, you’re not interrupting anything. Oscar was just getting ready to leave.” You ignore the little flash of hurt on his face, he really didn’t expect for you three to hang out did he?

“Um– yeah. I was getting ready to leave.” He stands up awkwardly from the couch, smoothing out his shirt as he heads towards the door. “Thanks for talking to me Y/N.” He looks back at you and you give him a small smile. “See ya Sam.” Oscar nods towards your sister as he walks past her.

The door closes behind him and you plop back down onto the couch with a loud sigh.

“Alright, spill the beans. What the hell is going on?” Sam demands before heading towards the kitchen to grab the wine opener and two glasses.

“Sam everything is so fucked up it’s not even funny.”

The two of you are up till the early morning as you tell your sister everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. There isn’t a detail you leave out and by the end of it you do feel better, but not 100% clear on what you should actually do. Unfortunately you don’t think you’ll ever be completely certain on things when it comes to Oscar or this job promotion, but if there was one thing Sam was good at, it was telling you how it was. She never sugar coated things– it was the little sister in her.

“You’re never going to know until you try. I know it’s scary and I know you don’t want to get hurt again, but I also grew up with Oscar and you’re literally my sister. I know you sometimes more than I think I know myself. You guys have always had this weird thing about you, like some connection that no one else can even compare to. And I think that if you don’t let Oscar back in you’re going to regret it thirty years from now and if you don’t take this job you’re going to regret it. Live a little Y/N. And if it all ends tits up again you can at least say you tried and I’ll be here as a shoulder to cry on before I go beat Piastri’s ass.”

“I’m scared.”

“That means you’re human.” She reaches out for your hand, squeezing it tightly in hers, a sign of reassurance. “Ultimately it’s up to you, but just know I’ll support you no matter what you decide– Oscar wise and job wise.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Probably be stuck in a perpetual 'what if’ that consumes your whole life.”

You roll your eyes at your younger sister. “Alright it’s time for bed.”

Sam crashes in your spare bedroom while you sit and contemplate life in yours. The box at the top of your closet is taunting you as you sit on your bed wide awake. The box that was home to that bracelet and so many other things. You sit and try and talk yourself out of getting it down, but it was no use, seconds later you’re on your tippy toes grabbing the tattered box from the shelf.

The box was practically a time capsule and when you opened it you were hit with a wave of nostalgia. Old pictures, concert tickets, trinkets, souvenirs from trips, and at the bottom of the box was that one thing you were looking for.

The bracelet was definitely looking worse for wear with some fraying thread and a little stain on one spot, but for being over a decade old you couldn’t complain. It held a special place in your heart and so you really didn’t care what it looked like.

You hold it in your hands, your fingers toying with it as you reminisce. Then without even thinking about it you slide it over your wrist. You weren’t sure what you were expecting when you put it on, maybe some giant explosion of feelings? A glowing sign in your mind that would tell you the right thing to do? It really lacked luster when you put it on, but it wasn’t about how it felt when you put it on, it was about knowing that Oscar had his on too. That you two were somehow connected again, even if it just was through a bracelet. It was something just for you two and that’s what made it special. A sign that maybe Oscar was right, maybe he was going to stick around this time.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The morning arrives way faster than you were expecting, but it had been a late night, a very late night. The reflection in the bathroom mirror is a rough one and when you go to try and tame your bed head you catch sight of the red string on your wrist. Your breath catches in your throat once again and everything from last night comes rushing back. Your head was already pounding from the wine you were drinking like juice last night. Then factor in your conversation with Oscar and your boss and it feels like your head is about ready to pop.

By the time you make it to the track your headache has subsided some thanks to tylenol and a greasy breakfast, but you can’t stop replaying the events of last night. You know you’ve got to push it all down and enter your work mode, but God if Oscar’s plan was to get into your head last night, then he had succeeded.

The last free practice session of the weekend has Oscar leading the times and it’s got you filled with hope for qualifying. You know practice sessions don’t mean everything, but you can’t help but feel like he’s going to put it on pole in a few short hours.

You’d never wanted him to come to the media pen in between sessions so badly up until now and of course he doesn’t. You just wanted to wish him good luck, give him a little reassurance, but you knew he was probably busy analysing data with his team and every other thing a Formula 1 driver does.

No matter how many demons you were fighting with right now when it came to Oscar you still cared and you were happy to see him do well.

Qualifying arrives before you know it and by the time the last laps start being ran in Q3 you think you’re not going to have any fingernails left. You want him to get pole so bad, it’s his home race, he’s dreamt about this since a kid. It’s been close between Lando and him the whole session and when Oscar crosses the finish line on his last effort his name goes to the top of the timing board– he’d done an extraordinary lap. But in a matter of seconds it’s taken right from underneath him by his teammate. Lando crosses the finish line and beats Oscar’s time by a hair.

You already know Oscar’s going to be beating himself up about this. You remember how he was in karting, always calm and collected in front of others, but when it was just the two of you or when he was around the people he cared about he’d finally let down his facade. P2 was still such a good spot to be starting from tomorrow, he was on the front row, but even without talking to Oscar for so long you know how badly he’s wanted this and you know he’ll be hurting deep down.

The media pen is in full swing by the time you spot Oscar walking in, race suit hanging low on his hips, cheeks flushed. You try not to stare, as he makes a b-line for you, not wanting him to know you spotted him as soon as he walked in.

You immediately switch into professional mode as he stands in front of the barrier that separates the two of you. “Hi Oscar.”

When Oscar walked into the media pen his eyes immediately scanned the area for you. He wanted you to be the first person he talked to– he needed to see your face. He spots you within seconds and makes haste to head towards you before another driver plants their feet in front of you. He finds it endearing how quickly you switch into your reporter mode and a small smile finds its way onto his face as you greet him. You ask him the expected questions about his quali session and he finds that it doesn’t hurt as bad to talk about losing pole with you than it would with anyone else.

Your right hand reaches up to tuck a stray hair behind your ear as you ask some question about his last sector in Q3 and that’s when Oscar sees it.

The red bracelet– on your wrist.

The question goes in one ear and out the other because all he can focus on is that damn bracelet. To see you wearing it, especially out in public, has Oscar feeling more than hopeful about finally breaking down your walls. He’s not getting too ahead of himself because he knows he still has a long way to go with you, but you deciding to look for that bracelet last night and then deciding to go ahead and wear it speaks volumes about how you are feeling towards him.

The disappointing loss of pole isn’t at the forefront of his brain right now– that’s something to rume about with the team later, right now he had this to enjoy.

“Oscar did you hear me?” Your voice breaks him out of his trance.

He smiles, cheeks getting red from embarrassment now rather than the exhausting quali session. “Sorry, yeah. It was a great last sector, just couldn’t extract that little extra bit that Lando did in the car. But I’m ready for tomorrow and see what I can do out on the track.”

That evening you get a text from Oscar that simply reads– nice bracelet.

It’s just a text that contains literally two words, you shouldn’t be smiling at your phone the way you are. Especially over something Oscar sent you, but you can’t help it. He’s being his old charming self and the walls you’ve built up are coming down like they’ve been built out of paper. It scares the shit out of you– how fast he’s worming his way back in and how you really aren’t putting up a fight. Although you guess those walls really never stood a chance when the person you’d built them against was the one who would always know how to break them down– no matter how long you’d been apart.

You consider not responding, but your fingers are typing before you even decide what to do.

Just something I found from ages ago.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The following day brings heartbreak.

You should have known that when you awoke to the sound of rain pelting against your windows that it was a bad sign, but you tried to remain positive, knowing that it would probably clear up by race time.

You were wrong.

The race had been going well for Oscar, considering the track conditions, and he was in the hunt for the win. You’d never been so anxious watching him race before and you knew it was because of your knowledge on how much winning his home race meant to Oscar. To start off the season with a win and it be his home race would be such a good start to what you knew was going to be an amazing season for him.

That is until lap 44.

The rain had started to come down faster and you could see the puddles starting to form on parts of the track. You can hear the murmurs of the other reporters around you questioning if race control is going to intervene or let fate decide the outcome of this race.

It’s not even ten seconds later that you hear hollers from the crowd and you know in your gut what’s happened before you even look up at the screen. The sight of Oscar’s McLaren stuck in the grass makes your stomach drop. This wasn’t how today was supposed to go for him. You can only imagine how his family is feeling right now and you wished you were with them right now instead of being stuck working.

The yellow flag graphic flashes on the screen where he’s gone off the track and you know it’s a matter of time before a safety car comes out. You aren’t even sure what to think at the moment, things were so weird right now between Oscar and you and hell you weren’t even really sure if there would be an Oscar and you again after this weekend was done. But right now you’re hurting for the little boy you once knew. The one who would drag you alongside him to the Grand Prix every year and when the winner would take the top step on the podium he’d always say that was going to be him one day. And now when he’s so close to making that dream a reality– it’s been ripped out of his hands.

The sound of the crowd is deafening and when the stream finally shows you what is happening you aren’t the least bit surprised. Oscar’s giving it everything he has to get that car out of the grass and after a few attempts he’s back on the track.

He wasn’t going down without a fight.

That was the Oscar you’d always known. Determined. Strongwilled.

Even if he’d place P20 he could at least say he finished the race and you knew he’d use this as fuel for the remainder of the season.

Your fingernails are practically gone by the time the checkered flag flies and Oscar has somehow finished in the points. It’s not the outcome anyone who supported him wanted, but given the circumstances he’d turned this shit situation into at least one with some points.

The media pen post race is of course in a frenzy, but there’s only one driver you want to talk to.

You spot him as soon as he walks in– looking disheveled and defeated. His PR training is already on display as soon as he knows the cameras are on him. He’s allowed to be upset, but not too upset. Don’t talk badly about the team or try to blame anyone else, but don’t be too self-depreciative. It’s been ingrained in him since his early days in Formula 1.

That all goes to shit as soon as he locks eyes with you.

His demeanor instantly softens when he sees you standing there. He’d just lost out on winning his home race, surely already getting slammed online and he knows there’s a handful of reporters waiting to rip into him, but none of that matters when he’s got you here, looking at him like it doesn’t matter that he spun out at his home race and almost had to retire, you’ll be here no matter what.

The moment you start speaking he goes on autopilot– the PR trained side of him taking over, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t still here. Still seeing the way your eyes soften towards him or the way you’ve been saying nothing but positive things to him. Even after all these years of being apart you still know how to console Oscar after a shit race. Even if you’re limited with your words and actions.

Your free hand had been resting on the barrier between Oscar and you for the duration of the interview and you pretend not to notice Oscar’s hands that are also on the barrier and how his pinky finger keeps brushing against yours ever so often. The little sparks that radiate through you every time the tiniest square inch of your skin meets his is embarrassing.

What the hell was going on with you?

You should be prioritizing getting the most out of this interview with Oscar because at the end of the day you were here to work and your career came before anything that had to do with him. Yet you find yourself stumbling over your words when he hooks his pinky finger around yours, like he’s trying to find comfort in you while still remaining professional.

Oscar doesn’t even really realize he’s practically enveloping your hand until he’s finally being ushered on by Sophie to the next interview and he almost has to remove his hand from on top of yours. It’s something he’d always done with you, found comfort in physical contact. Oscar was never big on physical affection growing up, sure he hugged his family, but with you it was different. It was almost like second nature for the two of you to be in contact somehow.

Sure your parents joked about the two of you being attached at the hip, but sometimes it was like you really were. Personal space was not a word that Oscar and you were familiar with and it really resonated with how the two of you at one point in time felt like home to the other. That you were so in tune with each other that a simple touch could bring you a sense of comfort that nothing else in the world could.

As Oscar walks over to the next interview he realizes that apparently old habits do die hard.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

It’s a busy afternoon as you finish up your work and send off everything to your boss for it to be finalized. You can’t believe the race weekend is over or that you reported on the whole weekend to begin with. Never in a million years would you think you would have ended up here in your career, yet here you are.

The promotion is still weighing heavy on your mind and honestly you had fun this weekend, but that doesn’t mean you’d enjoy doing this for every race right? You wouldn’t enjoy traveling the world on your employer's dime and having a career that thousands probably dream about having right? You’d have to see Oscar all the time and that’s certainly something you’re not sure you can handle– at least that’s what you’re telling yourself.

You decide to push the debating on the promotion to the back of your mind, you had until the morning to decide, and honestly you think you just might flip a coin to decide. Although sitting in your apartment just lets your brain think about it more so you decide to go for a drive, get some fresh air, and listen to some music. Sure the traffic will be horrendous, but you think anything will help you calm your brain more than just sitting in your apartment.

The Melbourne roads decide your journey for the night and you finally start to feel a little at ease as the fresh air billows through your car and your playlist fills your ears. Somehow you end up in your childhood neighborhood and your car somehow parks itself in your old driveway. You want to act like your car drove you here against your will, but you were turning the wheel, subconsciously wanting to come and see him.

He’s in the exact place you expect him to be when you glance into their backyard, the rusty swing giving away his location just from the sound alone. Your feet carry you up the driveway into your backyard, through the shared gate and into the Piastri’s backyard before you can talk yourself out of it. Deep down you knew he’d need you and even if you weren’t going to admit it you needed him just as badly.

His head is hung low as he sluggishly swings back and forth. It’s a sight to see really– a grown man on a swingset, but you join him looking as equally as ridiculous. Oscar’s head perks up at the sound of someone sitting in the swing next to him, but he already knew who it was before he looked up. He wasn’t trying to be out here throwing himself a pity party, but damn did today hurt. He knew he had it in him to win today, luck just wasn’t on his side.

“Hey.” You’re the first to speak up.

Oscar glances over at you and gives you a small smile. “Hey.”

You know he probably doesn’t want to talk about what happened today. He’s had to talk about it a million times, but on a personal level you want to check in with him.

“If you just want to put today behind you I get it, but if you want to vent, I’m here.”

Oscar shrugs, he doesn’t really know what else there is to say about what had happened. He wants to scream and say how unfair racing is, but that’s not going to do any good. He’s just got to channel how he’s feeling into the rest of this season, use this as fuel as what he's working towards. “It fucking sucks I’m not going to lie, but I’ve just got to move on and look forward to the rest of the season. Can’t change anything now. Even if I would have given anything to win today, I guess it just wasn’t meant to be.”

You nod in an understanding way. “One bad race, really means nothing right now. Which I really wouldn’t even say was that bad of a race. You went from almost being out to getting the car back onto the track and getting into the points. I know it wasn’t a win, but you still had a hell of a drive today Oscar. I’m still proud no matter what because I still remember the little boy who wanted to achieve this dream more than anything and look at where you are now.”

A brief moment of silence falls between the two of you as Oscar internalizes your words. It means more to him than you would think to hear you say that you’re proud of him. Even after how bad things ended up to hear you say that and for him to know you’re being sincere means more than a win to him at this point.

“You being here tonight with me means more than you’ll ever know. I know things are still a little weird between us, but sometimes I still need my best friend Y/N.”

This conversation was quickly turning away from the race today and into one about the two of you, which is how all of your conversations with Oscar seemed to end up these past couple of days. You feel the early stages of tears starting to well up in your eyes and you hate how emotional you can get.

All those years that you just needed your best friend start to replay in your mind. You needed him when you were fourteen and he’d just left for England. When you were sixteen with no date to homecoming. When you were eighteen and had just graduated. When you were twenty and feeling more than lost at University. And now at twenty-four you need him more than you’ll let yourself realize. Except this time he’s here and you don’t know how to fully let him back in. To dive back in without a life jacket.

“I needed my best friend I don’t know how many times Oscar and you weren’t there. I’m scared because I’m getting that feeling again like I need you and I’m so used to just dealing with things and experiencing things without you, but you’re here this time, and I don’t know what to do.”

Oscar frowns at your response, to hear you vocalize just how much hurt you’ve been dealing with kills him everytime. He wishes he could snap his fingers and everything would be alright, but he knows that can’t happen.

“This time I’m staying for good.” He wants to reach over and take your hand in his, intertwine your fingers and never let go, but he knows that would be too much. “What’s going on? Let me in Y/N– please.”

You want to trust him you really do, but god the trust issues you have are ridiculous. You don’t respond, you just look at him and he knows what you’re thinking. He knows this is going to take time.

The two of you sit in silence for a good while, staring up at the stars, until you finally bring up the thing that’s been drowning your thoughts since Friday night.

“My work is offering me a promotion.”

Oscar’s eyes light up for the first time tonight. “That’s amazing Y/N.”

You shake your head at his response, your eyes trained on your hands that have found a home in your lap. “It’s not the promotion I was expecting.” Osar furrows his eyebrows in confusion and you take his silence as a sign to continue. “I’ve always wanted to do high intensity journalism– war torn countries, national geographic stuff like that. But my boss called me the other night and said that our interview had gone so well and that my other content was so good that the sports division of the company is offering me the position to be their full time F1 journalist.”

Right off the bat Oscar’s first thought is for you to take the promotion. It’s selfish reasoning, but if you did he’d be able to see you so much more and that’s something he’s never going to say no to. But the rational side of him knows you’re probably at war with your mind right now and his selfish wants are not what you need to hear right now.

Although there isn’t a doubt in Oscar’s mind that you wouldn’t absolutely dominate this promotion if you accepted it. You were a pure natural this weekend and handled the hectic weekend better than some seasoned journalists. He knows deep down though that he’s one of the big reasons as to why you’re so hesitant to accept the offer and it kills him.

“I still think it’s amazing Y/N. It might not be exactly what you wanted, but I think it’s a good sign that you’re getting offered this after just one weekend. Imagine what your life could be like a year from now.”

You knew Oscar would be nothing but supportive of the idea of you taking this promotion, maybe you shouldn’t have come to him with this. “It’s not what I wanted though. I mean this weekend was great and everything just felt natural like I’d been doing this for years, but what if this is a one off thing. Like what if I get to the next race and it’s just a shit weekend for me?”

Oscar stifles a laugh, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’ve just described the life of a race car driver.”

An irritated eye roll is thrown in Oscar’s direction at his comment. “No but seriously Osc, I can’t deal with the what-ifs. I mean what if taking this eliminates my chances of doing other kinds of journalism?”

Oscar acts like hearing you call him Osc for the first time in over a decade doesn’t make his heart race. It was a slip of the tongue he’s sure– falling back into old habits. But he can’t help but feel like it’s a win for him, to have you reverting back to old nicknames so quickly. He’ll always be your Osc even when you're both old and grey.

He quickly brings himself back to reality and out of his dreamland, you needed him right now and he was going to be here to listen and tell you what you needed to hear. “But what if you don’t take it and you lose out on the opportunity of a lifetime?”

You don’t give an answer to his hypothetical scenario, choosing to anxiously pick at your fingernails instead.

“I honestly think you’ve already made up your mind Y/N. How many times did you mull over things as a child and make a big deal out of it? You’d have Sam and I going through every possible outcome and the whole time you’ve had your mind made up since the beginning. Go with your gut– take the risk or don’t. You always took what Sam and I said into consideration, but at the end of the day it’s your choice.”

Your front teeth tug at your bottom lip as you take in what Oscar’s told you. He wasn’t wrong. You’d been so caught up in the Oscar aspect of all of this that you were letting it cloud what this opportunity could do for you instead of take away. Deep down you knew you were leaning more towards taking the job.

The feeling you had this weekend was indescribable and to be that excited to do your job should be a good sign– at least you think it is. Oscar had just made everything more conflicting for you and you were able to find other things to pile on to not make it seem like it was just Oscar preventing you from taking this job.

How your life had been practically turned upside down in a matter of four days was beyond you, but you think maybe what Oscar has said the other night might have had a little truth to it. Maybe this all was meant to happen in the way it has. Maybe Oscar was supposed to come back to you and this was the plan for you two all along. Maybe it’s your way of coping with how fast everything seems to be moving or how you can’t seem to stop Oscar from just climbing back into his home behind your ribs no matter how hard you try.

You’re still hurt and mad at him from how things went down between the two of you, but god how you’ve missed having him around. You know there’s so much now that you don’t know about him, but there’s parts of him that are never going to change, the parts of him that you kept to yourself, the parts you held onto for safe keeping as the years without him passed.

You don’t want to get hurt again– you never want to feel the way you did all those years ago. And if you take this job you know it also means that you’re willing to fully let Oscar back in, maybe not right away, but you know you have a weakness when it comes to him and it’ll happen eventually. But you think you won’t ever find the connection you have with Oscar in someone else and if the universe is giving you guys another chance, then you’d be a fool not to take it.

“When do you think you’ll be back in Australia?” Your hands grip the metal chains of the swing tighter, scared of what his answer is going to be.

“Depends on if I get to see you or not. If I get to see you I’ll be home after China. If I don’t then probably not until the season’s summer break.” He’s teasing and you want to slap that stupid smirk that you secretly love off of his face.

“Well who knows if I’ll be around during your break so guess it’ll probably be a year from now until we see each other again.”

Oscar rolls his eyes at your dramatics before getting up from the swing and extending his hand out for you to take. “Come on, miss dramatic. It’s late and you’ve got a big day ahead of you tomorrow. You’re gonna need all the sleep you can get now, trust me the jet lag is killer.”

You take his hand and he pulls you up out of the swing. “I never said I was taking that promotion Oscar so I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

An amused expression paints itself across Oscsar’s face as the two of you slowly walk back towards your car. You aren’t quite ready to leave and Oscar isn’t ready to go inside so the both of you linger by your car. It’s like a scene out of a movie– Oscar’s got his hands stuffed into his pockets while you lean against your car. The only thing that fills the air is the sound of a dog barking in the distance and the gentle night breeze. There’s a giddy feeling that radiates through you, that any normal person would call butterflies, but that’s totally not what you’re feeling right now– right?

Oscar gives you that shy little smile and you can sense him moving closer ever so often. The energy between the two of you is charged like a live wire and you can feel your heart beating in your ears. You know what’s about to happen, but this can’t be happening right now– it can’t be. This is your best friend that yes you kissed when you were fourteen but you were kids and this is way more serious this time around. Yet with all the panicking you find your heart overriding your mind and when Oscar cups your cheek with his hand you lean into his touch.

“Osc-”

He shakes his head not wanting to hear your protests. “Have you ever thought about what things might be like if I had never moved to England? Or maybe if I would have pulled my head out of my ass and kept in touch with you?” His voice is almost a whisper. His free hand lands gently on your hip and he’s practically got you caged against your car.

Oscar was so close you could count every individual eyelash that adorned his eyes. “All the time.”

“I’d like to think things would be different.”

You shake your head at him, there was no use dwelling on what could have been. “We’ll never know Oscar.”

“You never thought about what things would be like between us?”

You notice how his eyes flicker from your eyes then back down to your lips ever so often and it causes a shiver to run down your spine. “Us?”

Oscar nods and you can see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallows, nervous to hear your answer.

“Maybe when I was younger, especially after you kissed me at Hannah’s house, but Oscar we’re grown now. Any little feeling I’d had disappeared the moment you got with Lucy and god Oscar you were with her for so long. Those feelings don’t just go away just because you’ve broken up.”

“She never meant as much to me as you.”

You scoff and Oscar’s hand drops from your face, but moves to mirror the other on your hips. “Don’t say that. You were with her for five years, Oscar. Don’t put her down to try and suck up to me. If I really meant that much to you then you would have never gotten with her.”

“You know you’ve always been my person– my other half. There’s always been that connection between us Y/N.” Oscar knows he’s being pathetic and more than likely making a fool of himself, but in the heat of the moment he just turns feral and thinks that after four days of reuniting that it's a good idea to try and make a move on you.

“You’re talking about me like I’m your ex or the one that got away. Oscar, I'm your best friend. We’ve never been anything more and if this is the time you decide to tell me you’ve got feelings for me this is one hell of a time. I just got you back– don’t try and rush into something over all these heightened emotions.”

You push Oscar away as you come back to reality and realize this is not how you want this new chapter with Oscar to begin. You aren’t sure how you exactly feel about him, if it’s romantic or lust or just seeing someone you used to call home after so long. Everything is heightened at the moment and it’s like you’ve been running on adrenaline all weekend.

“You’re telling me you don’t feel the connection between the two of us?” Oscar asks, desperation laced in his voice.

The adrenaline you’ve been surviving off of is starting to wear off and you can feel the tiredness setting in, your brain is fried. “I don’t know how I feel Oscar. A couple weeks ago I would have never thought I’d be here right now with you. I was living my life without you and I was fine. Now I guess the universe thought we needed to reunite and you’ve come crashing back in head first. I can’t differentiate my mind from my heart half the time and I want to hate you so bad sometimes, but then I’m around you and things just feel right. So god forbid a girl wants some time to process things.”

Oscar can see how everything is really taking its toll on you and the regret starts to set in. He never meant to make things harder for you. He’d gotten way too ahead of himself and took things a little too far too fast. He’s just so scared to lose you again that he doesn’t realize he’s being a little overbearing. “I’m sorry. I think I’ve just gotten too wrapped up in having you back and trying to process how I’m also feeling.”

You can see the regret in his eyes and you never wanted Oscar to feel bad for expressing his feelings, but it’s too much for you right now. You’re still trying to work through trusting him on a friendship level and you hate to say it, but if he actually did have feelings for you romantically you think you might doubt that too.

Seeing a familiar person, a person you were once so comfortable with after so long and then add on that fact that he’s probably still not over Lucy. To you the only logical explanation is that he’s using you as a rebound. And that is not something you could handle on top of everything else. It’s best to nip that in the bud before you find yourself stumbling down that dark path that will eventually hurt you more than anything in the end.

You move to stand by your car door, initiating the end of this conversation for the night. “I care about you so deeply Oscar, even after all that’s happened, don’t think I don’t. I’ve just got shit I’ve got to work through. If the universe is giving us this second chance to have each other back in our lives, let’s try to not fuck it up again. I need my best friend first and if it ever gets to something beyond friends then okay, but we can’t rush into something we both aren’t ready for. Don’t ruin everything because we were caught up in the moment.”

He knows you’re right and he wants to kick himself for turning a decent night with you into this, but he guesses if he hadn’t then he would never know how you felt. “So much has happened I keep forgetting it’s only been four days since we reconnected.”

You just want to move on from this conversation, if you don’t it’s going to just keep going around in circles. “Well this season is gonna seem like an eternity if we keep the same timeline going.”

Oscar’s eyes widen and he cocks an eyebrow at you in question.

You open your car door, hesitating slightly before getting in. “I’ll see you in China, Piastri.”

Even with the news of you practically being with him for the whole year he’s still reeling from making a damn fool of himself moments ago. You can tell he’s in his head and maybe you were a little harsh with him, but he needed to know how you felt and if there was one thing you were going to be with Oscar it was honest.

“We’re gonna be okay. We’ve just gotta give each other time.” You reassure him before you leave Oscar standing in the driveway.

Oscar watches you the whole time and when he finally can’t see your car he then treks back inside.

God help him.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

As the season progresses you start to get into the groove of your new job and by the time summer break rolls around you’d never been happier that you made the decision to take that promotion. It just comes naturally to you and you’ve quickly made a name for yourself in the sports journalism world. Your work is thrilled with the pieces and content you’ve been turning out and you only wish you could have been doing this sooner.

As for Oscar and you– it’s been a journey. The first couple race weekends after Australia were a little weird considering the fact that the two of you almost kissed, but you two eventually got over it. As much as you wanted to keep those walls up, it was genuinely no use. The more you were around him the more you just opened up and at times it was like old times with Oscar. It was nice to just have your best friend back.

Although sometimes at night you’d dream of that moment in Australia when Oscar had you pressed up against your car. You’d wake up flushed and confused, wishing your mind would just let you be for five seconds. It made things harder for you because you wanted to focus on your friendship with him, but you couldn’t help but feel the ache in your chest when he’d look at you a certain way or your hands would brush against his as you walked side by side.

It didn’t help the stuff you’d see online about Oscar and you, people who knew nothing about either of you making outrageous claims. Sometimes though you can’t lie– you’d self indulge in the comment sections of posts.

It was particularly bad after Oscar and you teamed up to do a hot lap video during the Belgium Grand Prix. Of course you two shared your usual banter, but Oscar had decided to be a little shit at the beginning of the video. You’d begged him to not put the pedal to the floor right off the bat, but he’d just looked at you with that sly smirk of his, claiming all he knew how to do was go fast. His eyes never left you as he pressed on the gas, causing the car to go flying and you to let out a scream.

user1: god the way he looks at her when he presses on the gas…. I NEED THAT

user2: can’t lie i’m starting to see what people have been saying about these two. the childhood friends to lovers trope is so strong between them.

user3: heart eyes piastri strikes again and dare i say heart eyes y/n?

user4: i think oscar looked more at her than the road the whole video. he’s down bad fr

The comments have you blushing and you physically have to put your phone down on your hotel bed to calm yourself.

You might be fucked.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If you would have asked yourself six months ago how do you feel about going on a trip with Oscar to Saint-Tropez and it just being the two of you— you would have said what the fuck why would I be doing that?

Flash forward to now and you find yourself sunbathing on a yacht in the French Riviera with Oscar next to you.

When he asked you a couple weeks ago if you wanted to go with him you’d hesitated– unsure if that was the right thing to do. Things were going well between the two of you, but going on vacation with just him was a whole different story. It was definitely way too soon for you guys to be doing stuff like this, but on the other hand there was a part of you that was giddy at the idea of having some one on one time with Oscar.

So against your better judgment you tell him yes.

Your days are spent lounging around on a yacht, enjoying decadent food, and most importantly realizing you’re in love with Oscar Piastri.

You know it seems fast to say you’re in love with him after only having him back in your life for half a year, and how resistant you were about letting him back in, but the thing is you’ve never not been in love with Oscar.

It’s something you come to terms with three days into the trip and it scares the shit out of you.

You’re out for dinner, some quaint place by the water that only seems to serve meals that you would call a snack, but nonetheless it's beautiful. The sun is setting along the coast and it’s a picturesque scene that Oscar insists you must pose in front of. His phone is pointed in your direction as you smile in front of the sherbert swirled sky.

“Beautiful.” He states as he swipes through the various photos he’d taken.

“Let me see!” You demand, trying to distract yourself from how a single word from Oscar has your cheeks heating up. If he asks at least you can blame it on the wine.

He locks his phone and sets it in his lap, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “No can do, these are for my eyes only.”

“Osc!”

A shake of the head and a smirk is all you get in response from him before the waitress comes over to the table. She’d been a little more friendly than necessary with Oscar all evening, while you’d been treated like dirt under her shoe

“Can I interest you in any dessert tonight?” She asks, looking directly at Oscar, not even bothering to shift her glance towards you. On the surface you're calm and collected, but deep down you want to kick the bitch in the shin. You’d been sitting here the whole evening and the only time she acknowledged you was when she came to the table the first time, after that she was laser focused on Oscar. The batting of the eyelashes, the giggling when all Oscar did was ask what she recommended, and the unnecessary reach across him to fill his wine glass you’d been able to just brush off, but the blatant rudeness of acting like you weren’t even sitting at the table with him about sent you over the edge.

Oscar looks at you from across the table, an eyebrow raised in question. He already knew what you wanted, but still gave you the option to choose.

“We’ll have the tiramisu.” You stick out the menu towards the waitress, tone more than shitty, but you didn’t care, she was being rude.

Her head swivels in your direction when she hears you speak and she almost looks stunned like she didn’t even know you could speak. She grabs the menus from you, but still has the nerve to hyper focus back on Oscar.

“Great. That’s my favorite– I’ll have that right out for you.”

A laugh escapes past your lips as she leaves, you just can’t help it, you’re dumbfounded at the lengths some people will go to try and get someone’s attention. You glance up at Oscar and see him staring back at you, a smirk splayed across his face.

“What?” You ask, suddenly defensive.

Oscar leans back in his chair, his arms crossed across his chest with that same shit eating grin on his face. “Oh nothing. I just think someone is a little jealous.”

“Jealous?!”

He nods, clearly amused at this whole situation. “Yes, don’t act like you haven’t been throwing the waitress daggers with your eyes all evening.”

You scoff as you mess with the edge of the linen table cloth, it was clearly more interesting than this conversation. “I have nothing to be jealous about Oscar so I don’t even know what you are talking about.”

Seconds later the waitress comes back with the dessert, making sure to set the plate directly in front of Oscar instead of in the middle of the table. ‘Let me know if you need anything else.”

Your grip on your spoon is so tight that it’s sure to leave an impression. How fucking rude could she be?

“We’ll just take the check.” Oscar states as he pushes the plate towards the middle of the table.

“Be right back!” She brushes her hand against Oscar’s shoulder as she leaves and you wish she’d never come back.

Oscar grabs his spoon and dives into the tiramisu with a smile never leaving his face. He can’t lie and say he wasn’t enjoying seeing you get so worked up over this. To see you so openly expressing your distaste for anyone to try and make a move on him. Even if you weren’t going to admit it– anyone with two working eyes could see it.

Your friendship while it was clearly back, it was still mending. Things had changed between the two of you and you both knew everything wasn’t going to be the same, but the gaps that existed in your friendship had allowed for another form of connection to flourish. The seedlings had always been there, buried deep from years of memories and the universe's divine intervention. The feelings had always peeked out at certain moments in your lives, but were never there long enough to alter your timelines. That is until now.

Oscar had somewhat always assumed that in the end you were going to be the one he’d eventually end up with. If not out of love, but perhaps out of convenience. Like if you were both thirty and still single then you’d get married kind of deal. You were always special to him– his person as he liked to say. And as horrible as it sounds, all the years he was with Lucy, he knew she wasn’t going to be the one he’d grow old and grey with.

So many people especially in the last year of their relationship had asked when he was going to pop the question and maybe he really should have broken it off way before it got to that point, but Lucy and him did make each other happy. And even though the two of you had no contact the whole time Lucy and him were together, there were parts of him that would always belong to you no matter what, and unfortunately Lucy just wasn’t you.

He’d thought about reaching out so many times, but it was never the right time. Racing was his whole life and it was the thing that took him away from you. So until he knew he’d be able to balance both you and racing he kept to himself. He knew you’d eventually come back to him, it was destined to happen. And when he saw you in that press conference in March he knew this was it. This was the universe putting the puzzle pieces together, but when he saw you there was something that came to light. That feeling he’d had many times before that he never could put a finger on, one that bloomed in his chest and traveled all the way throughout his body.

Love.

He was certain and there was absolutely nothing that could change his mind.

Oscar Piastri was in love with you.

He knew it would take you much longer than him to come to that realization, he’d put you through a lot, and he hated himself for it, but this time was different. He was here to stay and with time he knew you’d heal and the next chapter in the book of Y/N and Oscar could begin.

As the months passed he could see the little peaks of light breaking through, the little signs that you felt the same way as him, but he wasn’t going to press, when your heart was ready you’d let him know.

He just never thought the biggest crack would show over some waitress flirting with him.

To see someone angrily eat tiramisu is a sight to see, but Oscar thinks you still look breathtaking regardless of how hard you dig your spoon into it.

“I’m yours Y/N. Don’t worry.” His free hand reaches across the table to softly envelope yours, his fingers slightly toying with the red bracelet that still adorned your wrist. He sees how the blush on your cheeks deepens and how you seem to relax under his touch. Your actions only add fire to the fuel that is Oscar’s desire for you and he prays you come to your senses soon because he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold back how he truly feels.

The waitress comes back shortly after with the check and Oscar knows he’s got to put her in her place. He’d tried to be polite, but the blatant disrespect she had shown towards you was unacceptable in his book. Oscar hands her his card and when she goes to take it from him he holds onto it. She thinks he’s flirting and starts to laugh, but Oscar doesn’t find it funny one bit.

“I hope you don’t treat all of your customers like this– the amount of disrespect you’ve shown her.” Oscar points across the table at you. “The person I care very deeply about, it’s disgusting. You’ve dismissed her all evening and acted like she wasn’t even sitting at the table. She’s the most important person in my life and to see her get treated like that just does not fly with me. So if we could just get the receipt, we will be on our way.”

The waitress truly seems unaffected by Oscar’s reprimanding, you on the other hand are feeling more than flustered. To see him coming to your defense so publically has you hot all over. Oscar’s defended you before, especially when you were kids, but nothing to this extent. Nothing close to the language he had used just now. He was laying claim to you in multiple ways and you loved it.

Before you even work up the courage to look Oscar in the eye again the waitress is back with the receipt. “Have a lovely night.” Is all she says before moving along to one of her other tables.

Oscar scoffs as he tosses the receipt aimlessly onto the table. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion, reaching for it to see what the reaction was for. The moment your eyes land on it you audibly laugh.

Call me 123-456-7890 ;)

“The fucking nerve.” You state as the two of you get up to leave. Oscar just leaves the receipt on the table before grabbing your hand in his to lead you out of the restaurant.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

The walk back to the villa is slow and…. intimate?

Somehow you’ve got your arm wrapped around Oscar’s as you walk through the streets, the town is winding down for the night, but your mind is still going a hundred miles an hour. You can’t seem to get over that waitress. You don’t know why it bothered you so much. In fact, the majority of the time you enjoyed not being seen, you liked to blend in with the crowd, but the way she was acting towards Oscar, that is what really bothered you.

You realize that you actually may have been jealous.

When you were younger you really never had to share Oscar with anyone else– it was you two always. Sure your siblings were there, but that didn’t count. You both had other friends, but in all honesty you think everyone back then knew they had no chance in competing with what Oscar and you had. Everyone knew their place and it worked.

Then when Lucy came along Oscar wasn’t in your life at that point. You’d built up so many walls that any ill feelings you had were masked by your issues with Oscar leaving, not the fact that there was someone else in his life. You do guess there was that first Christmas he brought her home that you faked being sick, but you could also blame that on your Oscar issues at the time.

But now that you finally have him back, you’ve realized you don’t ever want to lose him again. You don’t like the idea of someone else being his person, of someone else possibly taking him away from you. The realization scares you, mainly because you’d been fighting how you really felt about Oscar since this past March.

You had wanted to kiss him so badly that night, but you didn’t, and you’re glad you didn’t because it was truly too soon, but you wished maybe you would have come to terms with everything a little sooner instead of pushing them down. Because now as you're walking the streets of Southern France on the arm of Oscar Piastri you’ve realized that you don’t want anyone else to be with him because you’re the one that wants to be with him.

You want Oscar all to yourself.

You wanted him on his worst days and his best days. You wanted to walk down any street with him and know that he’s yours and only yours.

You glance up at him, studying his side profile, his prominent jaw, the moles on his neck, his fluffy brown hair that’s tousled from the wind coming off water. He’s everything you’ve ever wanted. There is no one in this world that could compare to Oscar or the connection that you have with him. When you’re with him you feel at home– like he’s your missing puzzle piece.

Oscar can sense your eyes on him and when he glances down at you with his adoring big brown eyes. The same eyes that can bring you calm in the worst cases of chaos. Or the ones that sparkle like diamonds after a big win and you’re the first person he sees. The eyes that look at you like you’ve hung the moon and stars in the sky above.

The realization hits you like a freight train and you can feel the air escape your lungs. This feeling it’s been there all along, deep within your soul, interwoven in your DNA.

You’re in love with Oscar.

Your grip on his arm is a little tighter as you continue your walk, but your eyes never glance back up at him, afraid that if he looked at you again you’d confess your feelings right there in the middle of Saint-Tropez.

Oscar is oblivious to the mental turmoil you’re going through right now and he only finds comfort in the feeling of you pulling him closer. He wasn’t going to complain, any chance to be close to you Oscar was never going to pass up. So he smiles to himself as the two of you continue your stroll back to the villa, only hoping that soon enough you’d accept what the universe had placed in front of you. That you’d feel the same about him as he does you.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

When Oscar decides to take a shower as soon as you get back to the villa you’re beyond grateful. As soon as the door clicks shut and you hear the water turn on you’re immediately running to your room and calling Sam.

“Hello?”

“Sam I am so fucked. Like fucked beyond belief.” Your whisper yelling, not wanting Oscar to hear, but wanting Sam to know it’s urgent.

“What’s wrong, are you in trouble? Do I need to come get you?”

You rub your forehead, you don’t even know if you can say this outloud. “No, no. It’s nothing like that.”

“Then what is going on?”

You decide to just rip the bandaid off. “I’m in love with Oscar.”

There’s silence on the line for a moment and you pull the phone away from your ear to make sure the line didn’t disconnect. Then you hear a laugh echo through the speaker.

“Yeah, no shit.”

“I just told you that I’m in love with Oscar and that’s all you can say? What the fuck Sam!”

You hear her sigh and that irritates you even more for a moment. “Y/N, you’ve always been in love with Oscar. It just took you twenty-four years to come to terms with it.”

“I haven’t always been in love with him.” You immediately protest.

“Yes you have. I know my big sister better than anyone. I mean you both have been in love with each other for as long as I can remember. Maybe when we were kids it wasn’t necessarily romantic love, but there’s always been something different about the two of you. How many times did you two get pretend married when we were little? Talk about predicting the future.”

“I said I had feelings for him, not that I was marrying him!”

“You actually said you were in love with him, not that you had feelings for him. That’s a big difference.”

“Sam! I’m spiraling right now and you are not helping me whatsoever!” You’re trying not to raise your voice, scared that Oscar would be able to hear you from the room over, but your little sister was being a pain in the ass right now.

“If I didn’t want to help you I wouldn’t have answered the phone at seven in the morning. Thank you very much.”

A grimace finds its way onto your face– you’d forgotten all about the time difference in your hectic frenzy to call her. “Sorry, I forgot about the time difference.”

You hear her sigh and then the sound of rustling, meaning she was probably getting up out of bed. “I know you’re freaking out, but Y/N this and I’m not even exaggerating when I saw this, your soulmate we are talking about. I mean fuck you’re literally on vacation with just him in the south of France– talk about romantic. Tell him how you feel, because I know he feels the same if not even more crazy about you. You deserve to be happy and as much as I wanted to kill Oscar all those years ago when he left, the progress the two of you have made to rekindle your connection in such a short amount of time, tells me that maybe distance does make the heart grow fonder. He looks at you like you're the center of his universe, put the poor guy out of his misery and tell him that you love him back. I know it’s scary to come to terms with all of this, especially after everything, but babe those feelings have been there the whole time. It’s always been Oscar and Y/N in this lifetime and everyone after that.”

Sam’s words weigh heavy on your mind as you pick at the frayed stitch on the duvet. “I guess I should tell you that we almost kissed back in March.”

“You guys almost kissed and you’re just now realizing you’ve got feelings for him?!”

“I don’t know! I thought back then it was because of just reuniting with him and emotions were heavy. We were caught up in the moment.” You pause briefly, that night replaying in your mind. “But thinking back to then, in his own way he did kind of admit to wanting to be with me, but we’d just met again a couple days before that and I just brushed it off as heightened emotions.”

Sam groans loudly. “I love you, but you’re literally the dumbest person I know right now. If you don’t go tell Oscar how you feel right now I’m gonna get on the earliest flight to you and force you two to admit your feelings.”

A sudden knock at your door causes you to jump, a small yelp escaping past your lips. “Sam I’ve got to go, I'll talk to you later!” You don’t even give her time to hang up, just ending the call and tossing your phone on the bed.

“Come in!” You holler with an unsteady voice and rapid heartbeat. God you pray Oscar hadn’t been eavesdropping the whole time.

The door slowly creaks open and Oscar peaks his head in. “Hey I was going to watch a movie, but the tv in my room isn’t working, and the couch in the living room was clearly not made for comfort. Do you want to watch one in here?”

Of course he’d want to watch a movie in your room, meaning it would be just the two of you, in your bed.

“Sure.” You barely croak out.

Oscar walks in and you have to hold back the groan that almost escapes past your lips. His hair is messy, not pushed back like normal and slightly down in his eyes. He’s got on a plain black t-shirt that’s so snug on his biceps you think it might bust and some grey sweatpants that are hanging dangerously low on his hips.

When he slides onto the bed next to you it’s like you’re frozen in place. His aftershave is drowning your senses and you know there is no way you can sit through a whole movie with him right next to you like this.

“What do you want to watch?” Oscar asks, grabbing the remote from the nightstand.

“I don’t care.” You lean back against the headboard, eyes straight ahead at the TV, not daring to look over at him.

Oscar eventually decides on some random Marvel movie and you’re too in your head to even know what’s going on, even though your eyes haven’t left the screen.

You haven’t dared to move an inch, you could feel the heat radiating off of him, hear his breathing. Hell if you tried hard enough you’d probably be able to hear his heart beat. Just the other day this wouldn’t have been a big deal, but things have clearly changed.

“Everything alright?” Oscar asks, his knee slightly bumping yours to get your attention.

“Just peachy. Why?” You reply, eyes still glued to the TV, body stiff as a board.

He furrows his eyebrows at you, he’d been watching you out of the corner of his eye the whole time. You’d been acting like he was some stranger and he wondered if he’d done something wrong. He had you wrapped around his arm on the way home and now you were acting like he had the plague or something.

“You’re acting strange. You’re sitting here like a statue, like I’m some stranger. Did I do something wrong or?”

You shake your head, eyes still forward. “You didn’t do anything wrong, Osc.”

He’s not buying it one bit, he can see straight through your lies, you’ve never been a good liar. He reaches over– his hand settling on your thigh. The simple action makes every nerve in your body feel alive.

“Well something is wrong. You wouldn’t be acting like this if there wasn’t. Talk to me.”

He’s not going to drop it– you know Oscar too well. He’s going to sit here and bother you until you finally break down and talk to him, except this time your issue is him.

“It’s fine Oscar, I’ve just got a lot on my mind right now.”

The movie is paused before you know it and Oscar is scooching closer to you on the bed. If there was something going on he wanted to be here for you. “You know you’ll feel better if we talk about it.”

In any other situation he would be right, but this isn’t any other situation. You feel his fingers gently toying with the frayed strings of your bracelet and it makes your situation that much harder. Every little action of his is clouding your mind and you really need time to process everything without him right next to you, touching you, his warmth radiating around you.

You close your eyes and take a deep breath– trying to ground yourself. If you tell him how you feel this is going to change everything. You think that’s what scares you the most, the idea that maybe you’ve been reading everything wrong with Oscar and that he doesn’t feel the same way. That if you tell him that you’re in love with him he’s going to turn you down and you’re going to lose him again.

Or what if you guys do give it a shot and things don’t work out and you can’t even reconcile a friendship at the end? Everyone around you says you’re meant to be together, but only the universe can decide that, and leaving things up to fate makes your stomach churn.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” His voice is soft and you feel his fingers hook under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

The moment you lock eyes with his big brown ones you know you’re a goner. Any instinct you had to wait and think on how you actually feel has vanished. You can’t help it, he makes you feel comfortable, he’s like home to you. You know there is no going back from this, but like Sam has told you, you’ll never know if you don’t try.

“You.”

Oscar feels his heart rate speed up a little, was this a good or bad response? He’s almost too afraid to ask.

“Did I do something? Was it dinner? I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner. I should have requested a new waitress.” He’s panicking slightly, worried that he’d fucked things up.

You gently shake your head at him, he thinks he’s fucked everything up, but it’s you that’s about to drop a bomb. “It was dinner, and the walk back from dinner, that night after the race in Australia, the tulips you gave me, that party at Hannah Payne’s house. “You pause, reaching out and looping your finger around the excess string of Oscar’s bracelet. “These bracelets that have withstood time, and god Oscar the way you look at me like I’m the center of your universe, how you’ve made these last six months the best months of my life. That's all I can think about. You’re all I can think about.”

He thinks he knows what you're alluding to, but he doesn’t want to make a fool of himself, he wants to hear you say it. Wants to hear you vocalize how he’s felt for what seems like an eternity.

His hand slowly reaches up to cup your face, his thumb gently rubbing across the apple of your cheek. “Say it– please say it.” His voice is laced with desperation, desire, everything he’s ever wanted is in the palm of his hand, but he’s got to hear you say it.

You close your eyes, leaning into Oscar’s touch. Blindly you reach for his free hand, lacing your fingers with his, and it’s like your hand is made to fit perfectly with his. When you open your eyes and see him looking at you with nothing but pure adoration, like he’d worship the ground you walk on, you know what you’re about to do is right. This is what is meant to happen. Oscar is yours and this time you’re not going to let him get away.

“I’m in love with you Oscar.”

If Oscar hadn’t known any better he would have thought he died and gone to heaven. To hear you say those words to him was like music to his ears. To get the confirmation that what he felt was mutual, but also that his inkling that you felt the same was true was a feeling he’d never felt before.

“Say it again.” Oscar asks, high on the feeling in his chest.

You smile, laughing a little at how giddy he was. “I love you.”

If Oscar could overdose on hearing you say that he might have to go to rehab, but for right now he’s going to savor this moment. He looks at you, hair still tousled from the wind at dinner, rosy cheeks, and a glimmer in your eye that Oscar thinks could make even the sourest man swoon. You were breathtaking in every way and he couldn’t take his eyes off of you.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks, his voice filled with desire.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

In a split second Oscar’s lips are on yours and you waste no time in kissing him back. You two were clearly making up for lost time. It was passionate and loving, like you both were trying to convey how you’d felt over the years. His hands cupped your jaw, deepening the kiss. If there was one thing you knew to be true it was that kissing Oscar Piastri was like nothing you’d experienced before. It was nothing like that night in that cramped closet. This kiss was real and filled with unspoken words.

You pull away reluctantly, your forehead resting against his as you both try to catch your breath. “I love you.” Oscar breaths out, a giddy smile on his face.

There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that he didn’t feel the same now, but to hear him actually say it to you had your heart feeling like it was about ready to burst out of your chest. “Well I’d like to hope so.” You joke, smiling back equally as big at him.

Oscar lays down on the bed, his arms open as an invite, which you gladly accept. It’s crazy how it seems like Oscar and you were made for each other, how you just fit into his side like a missing puzzle piece, but you do and nothing in the world feels better than being in his arms. You can hear his heartbeat beating against his chest. It’s strong and steady, grounding you, bringing you back down from this la-la land of love you’re in.

You glance up at him and find him already looking at you. “Promise me you aren’t going to leave me again. I can’t go through that again Oscar, especially not now.” Even after all of this the fear of him leaving is still a demon you have to deal with.

He leans down, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead. “I promise. You’re stuck with me forever now.”

“Forever?”

Oscar reaches for your left hand, his fingers gently toying with your ring finger. “Forever.”

three years later

The Piastri household looks like a house straight out of a Christmas movie. Everyone has gathered for the yearly celebrations and after a delicious dinner and some gift giving the evening has started to wind down. Oscar and you are cuddled up on the couch, eating some of your Mum’s sugar cookies, penis shaped and all. You two have been waiting for everyone to gather in the living room for a game of pictionary, you’ve got something you’ve been wanting to announce, but Nicole is taking forever in the kitchen. After what seems like an eternity you see her walk in and you glance over at Oscar, who takes the hint to get everyone’s attention.

“Hey everyone!” The chatter stops and all eyes are focused on him. “So Y/N and I have been waiting until we were all together to tell you guys-” He looks back at you, his hand reaching out for you as you stand beside him. You’d taken the split second that all the attention was on Oscar to slip the ring that had been in your pocket all evening onto your ring finger. Both of your families are on the edge of their seats, the anticipation killing them. You look over at Oscar, who’s only smiling back at you with the biggest grin on his face.

You take a deep breath before quickly raising up your left hand and wiggling your ring finger towards everyone.

“Oh my god! You’re engaged?!” Sam yells, nearly breaking the sound barrier.

The room erupts into squeals and gasps, happy energy radiating all around.

“Well actually…” Oscar trails off.

“We’ve been married for a couple months.” You state, laughter lacing your words.

Even more gasps fill the room and Oscar and you just can’t help but laugh. It happened on a whim a couple months ago. There was a break in the racing schedule and Oscar and you took a trip to Lake Como. You know both of you knew you’d eventually get married, that was established pretty early on, but when you two have one of your late night deep conversations and the topic of why wait to get married got brought up, you both thought why are we waiting?

So the next day you got married in some little chapel and the rest was history. You had decided to keep it a little secret for a while, it was just something for Oscar and you to enjoy, but you knew you couldn’t hide it forever. So you both decided Christmas would be the best time to announce it.

Your Mum and sister are the first to come attack you with a hug, tears are streaming down your Mum’s face and all you can do is comfort her. “My baby, I can’t believe you’re married!”

“Don’t worry Mum, we’re going to have an actual wedding this summer.” You knew your family, well actually both of your families would want you guys to have an actual wedding. It was something Oscar and you had discussed beforehand. Deep down you wanted a wedding too, but you wanted to have that special moment that only Oscar and you shared also.

Sam hugs you tighter than you think is even humanly possible. “Told you you’ll never know until you try.”

“I know, thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

One by one everyone comes to congratulate you and you can feel the tears starting to well up from the pure joy you’re feeling. To have not just your family love you, but also Oscar’s is the biggest blessing you could ever ask for. Nicole is the last person to come see Oscar and you and you can tell by the look on her face that she’s holding back tears. “I hope you know I always knew Oscar and you were going to end up together. Call it Mother’s intuition, but there’s no one else I could imagine my Oscar with. You’ve always been like a daughter to me, but now I get to actually call you one.”

You look over at the man you love– your husband and you feel nothing but pure adoration. He’s everything you could have asked for and more. It took some time and rough patches to get where you are, but you wouldn’t change it for the world. This is how your life is supposed to be and if you tried to change it, you don’t think you’d be standing here next to him right now, with this rock on your finger. Oscar has always been your person and now he always will be.

And you realize that Oscar Piastri was never just a chapter in your life– he’s the whole book.

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