Oscar said something hurtful to Lando and now has to beg for forgiveness
The roar of the engines and the roar in Lando’s chest were indistinguishable. The race was a blur of flashing colors, the sharp turns, the sound of rubber meeting tarmac. But his mind? His mind was fixed on one thing.
Oscar.
It wasn’t even the rivalry that burned anymore. No, it was the silence. The tension that had settled between them like a weight Lando couldn’t shake. He’d given his heart to this, to them, and it felt like Oscar had just cast it aside as if it meant nothing.
Every time he looked over to see Oscar’s car behind him or in front of him, it wasn’t the competition that stung—it was the thought of what they’d lost off-track. That soft, easy connection that had been replaced with a cold distance neither of them could close. The man who had once whispered sweet promises in his ear, whose hand he would grasp for comfort in the chaos, was now just another rival.
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