Milkshake

979 30 2
                                    

Lando POV

The rest of the week flies by and I fall right back into the groove of work. I love spending days in the simulator, but this is the only time of the season I have an excuse to be there every day. I'm just stepping through the doors on Friday morning when Grace grabs me by the arm and starts pulling.

"Where are you taking me?" I gasp.

"Media duties."

I end up wasting hours trying on ugly clothes and posing in front of a black and orange sheet. The photographer tells me my smiles look too forced and Grace keeps adjusting my posture. When the torture is finally over and the make-up is washed off my face, I head to the simulator room. But Grace finds me again before I can turn anything on.

"Filming time!" she buzzes, depositing me in another make-up room. I groan, having thought I'd just finished with all this, and then I spot Oscar. He's already powdered-up and his expression looks just as stony as my own. I sit though my transformation in silence.

I can feel Oscar's eyes on me. We've managed to avoid each other all week, but now it's unavoidable. We repel each other like two negative magnets. Grace is forcing us together.

A load of food is spread over a table out on the landing overlooking the lake. My heart sinks. It looks like another British versus Aussie food battle, which sucks not only because I explicitly told Grace no food challenges but also because I've done all this before with Daniel. I couldn't be less interested in Oscar's opinion on British food.

"It's a milkshake challenge."

"I thought I said no food challenges?"

"This isn't a food challenge, it's a drink challenge," Grace explains as if that makes it any better. She ushers us onto either side of a dark curtain so at least I can pretend Oscar isn't here. She explains the rules, but the blood is racing in my ears.

Oscar and I speak at the same time.

"I don't want to do that."

"I'm not doing that."

"Yes you are," Grace commands. "Now sit down."

I have two options. The first is to play nicely and make something edible, if a little weird, for Oscar to drink. But somehow I just know he won't be so kind to me. He's hated me ever since Formula Renault and he's probably been looking for an opportunity to get his revenge. That leaves only the second option: playing dirty.

The cameras roll and I pick up and sniff the gummy worms. They'll add a horrible texture. I add four to my blender. As I work, I hear Oscar doing a running commentary on all the British sweets he's never even heard of before. I'm sure it can't be true, it's not like he's never been to the UK before. I let him mutter. It doesn't matter to me, all I need is his reaction.

Time is almost up so I decide to taste the milkshake I've created. To my dismay, it's actually alright. Just a blend of vaguely sweet and fruity flavours. I guess Grace wanted to avoid any huge mishaps so she hasn't provided us with much in the way of sabotage material. But we do have a pack of cinnamon. I add an entire stick to my drink and put it through the blender.

"Time's up! Time to swap glasses."

I try to study Oscar's face as he hands me his concoction around the curtain. He doesn't give anything away, not rage, not sympathy. I sniff the drink tentatively as Grace counts back from three. Then I sip.

It's delicious.

Oscar's drink explodes from his mouth and all over the table. I stare at him in shock.

Some of the camera crew are in fits of laughter while others cringe. After a moment I continue to sip on my drink as Oscar gags. He doesn't look at me, but someone has to speak. I make a comment about how good my drink tastes.

Against YouWhere stories live. Discover now