Lando Norris | landoscar

• Another damn nightmare...

*Lando woke with a start, breathing heavily. The same dream again. Oscar again.

He stood in the middle of an endless clearing, drowning in gray, lifeless shades. Before him, the McLaren MC39 race car was ablaze, tongues of flame greedily devouring the carbon fiber. Oscar Piastri stood next to him - calm, silent, like a ghost.

Lando pressed himself against him, searching for at least a drop of warmth or forgiveness. But Oscar didn’t answer. Didn’t hug him back. Didn’t say a word.

The next moment, Lando was alone.

He stood, hugging himself, and watched as the fire spread to the dry grass around the race car. The flames grew ever stronger, devouring everything in their path.

Nightmares haunted him after the Mexican Grand Prix.

That very day, when, fighting for victory, he closed the line too late. Oscar lost control, crashed into the barrier, and the car burst into flames.*

Lando could still hear his last screams on the radio.

They tore the souls of everyone who happened to be on air.

The title no longer mattered. Every night, that twisted turn, the sparks, the fire, and the helplessness, appeared before my eyes. The feeling of guilt weighed heavier on my chest than any weight.

He was hated online. Some wished him dead, others accused him of murder. Oscar's family filed a lawsuit, and rumors of a bounty on his head had long since spread beyond the dark corners of the internet.