Friends

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Lando POV

"Civil war in the paddock..." I read, dropping my phone on the table. "Now that's a headline."

Alex snorts. He sits to the right of me, mouth stuffed full of fish and chips and ringed with gravy. George folds his arms across from Alex, face screwed up in disgust.

"You're revolting," he says.

Alex swallows and points his knife at me, ignoring George. "You, my friend, are the leader of a civil war. How does it feel?"

I push my phone aside as the waitress brings my meal over, simple bangers and mash, not a fish to be seen here.

"I'm acting normally, it's Oscar that's causing trouble. He always has to be bigger, better and louder than me. I just want to win races for the team."

George nods knowingly. "Oscar irritates you because he isn't a team player?"

I sigh. "Not only that, although that's a big part of it. He doesn't let me focus, he always distracts me with his stupid petty drama."

"According to the article, you've started plenty of drama yourself," Alex accuses. "It says you won't let him fill his water bottle from your water fountain."

"That's for hygiene reasons!"

"Did you let Daniel use your fountain? Carlos?"

"Carlos yes, Daniel no. Well... Sometimes."

"You're a weirdo, you know that?"

We spend a few minutes eating in silence. The food really is good here, it actually reminds me of Britain. None of this stupid Mediterranean seafood and salad dressing. I like Canada. I'm glad George suggested this restaurant.

"Don't you think it's better to get on with your teammate? You know, for the championship?" Alex asks. "It was the same for me at Red Bull. I felt like everyone was against me even though the surface image was bright and cheery."

"You never looked bright and cheery at Red Bull," George smirks.

"Yeah, things are much better now," he nods.

"So you're saying if Oscar can't act like a normal person I should leave McLaren? Because you know that will never happen. I raised this team from the bottom. And anyway, I was here before him."

George rolls his eyes as Alex licks his knife clean. "We're not telling you to leave McLaren. I think what Alex means is that you're Mr Teamwork, and you're letting Oscar get in between you and what's best for the team."

I nod. "That's what Grace says too."

The boys' eyes widen and narrow. "Who's Grace?" they ask in unison.

I laugh, shaking my head. "Just some new media manager. But she's really nice, she just hates how difficult it is for me and Oscar to film together. She says Oscar's stopping me from achieving my potential. "

"If she's a media manager, why is she badmouthing Oscar like that?"

I shrug. "Because it's true?"

"Sounds like she needs to stay in her lane," Alex says. "It never leads to anything good when someone in the team starts playing favourites."

I consider his words for a moment, taking a long sip of salty mineral water and trying not to screw up my face at the disgusting taste. Is Grace really playing favourites towards me? I never thought of it like that, although she is one of the only people I can really open up to about Oscar. I look at my friends sitting either side of me.

"Do you ever wish you had a different teammate?" I ask.

George shakes his head. "Hamilton teaches me so much, even if we hardly ever talk."

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