"and he says I'm so american, oh god I'm gonna marry him if he keeps this shit up."
social media x real life
oscar piastri x fem!oc
2023 racing season
no.1 #oscarpiastri
no.1 #oliviarodrigo
no.1 #formulaone
no.1 #australia
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- I'm a specialist at
overthinking everything -
" - i heard you kept looking for me
no need to look any further - "
THERE WAS SOMETHING magical about simplicity. How hidden in the very crevice of its name, you could find much more than one would have bargained for. Simplicity in its purest form was a complete contrast to complexity. But, like simplicity, there was magic in being complex.
Complexity yearned for something or someone to unravel the layers and stories that are hidden within it. Yearning for that attention to detail that others pay to the simplistic pleasures in life. Being complex wasn't a burden, it was a book that wrote itself, every chapter being written as it happened, because, after all, not everything can be simple. This was where Pippa fell.
Nothing in her life was ever simple. She hadn't woken up one day and music awards had just appeared on her lap - she did wake up as an overnight sensation, so that part was easy. She had worked hard and still does, to make her music herself, to let others enjoy it as much as she does. She couldn't just expect everything to be handed to her or for things to work themselves out.
And, perhaps, this revelation she had been presented with at roughly three am in the morning, was the exact reason why she wasn't sat on the first plane heading back to Los Angeles.
It hadn't been a well-thought-out decision. But something was written in between the lines of Lando's words that struck her. She didn't want to give up the feelings she had slowly begun developing for the Australian if anything, she wanted to act on them - but that was still a few steps in front of her.
But before anyone could mistake this momentary relapse as her moving too fast, she needed to clear the air. In her planned-out speech for Oscar, she had made it abundantly clear that this development was to be slow, to ensure that they actually felt what they had assumed was fondness for the other.
She refused to go through heartbreak again because Oscar realized too late that he truly didn't like her. She had already been faced with that predicament before.
She hadn't attended the race earlier that day, deciding to put her full faith in Lando's ability to convince his teammate to go to the after-party no matter his race outcome. However, she would be lying if she said there were no regrets about not attending. Pippa wanted to go, she wanted to see him race and experience his world like he had done through their multiple facetimes for her. But she was scared, a common feeling the past few days.
She was terrified that when she saw him, he would look at her differently. That his eyes wouldn't hold the same shine that they did only a few days prior. She hated the idea that she caused that change in his aura. But there was one thing that scared her the most. That he would look at her the same.
She didn't want to see his lovesick expressions and his heart eyes because she knew they would only make her regret everything and wish that she could turn back time. But if she hadn't said the things she did, maybe they would fall harder than they had when she did tell him.
This was the dilemma she had faced the entirety of that, her mind switching sides every hour, curating new reasons as to why and why not she should go to the party. Each reason was as creative and unique as the other, making her groan in desperation and self-pity. She was the reason she was in the mess and no one was going to change it.
Not even as she stood in front of the hotel room mirror, assessing every little detail of her outfit as she overthought every single possibility that could occur tonight. He could see her and ignore her. He could see her and not ignore her but look at her in disgust. He could look at her with his beautifully brown eyes and that would be all she needed to fold and come crashing into his arms.
Every possibility had its own pros and cons, each just as miserable and depressing as the other.
But she knew deep down what she had to do, even if it meant social suicide in some random club in Melbourne. She was determined to make her wrongs right.
She grabbed her clutch from her bed, putting all her necessities in it like her lip gloss and her room card. She brushed any hairs or specs of dust that lay on her mini, black dress that hugged all her curves in all the right places. Her heart pounded as she pulled her heels onto her feet, the strapped suddenly too hard to do with her shakey hands.
She hadn't even left her hotel room and she was already acting like she had witnessed a murder. She refused to imagine how she would react when she saw him in a crowded, public setting.
With her shoes now strapped to her feet, she stood from her bed. Her eyes connected to the door that seemed so far from her bed when in reality, it was only ten steps away. But ten steps were too many when her vision felt like it was closing in on her and her hands began to sweat.
Her mind shifted to what her therapist would always tell her, to envision a box in her mind and place herself safely within it. As long as she remained in this box, none of her intrusive, interrupting thoughts could harm her state of mind. It was her box of safety. And it worked.
She felt her heart rate slow and the sweat pouring from her fingertips slowed, her eyesight came back to normal and the door seemed significantly closer than it had previously. She was ready to face the world and its horrific tendencies.
She was ready to see him again.
authors note!
did I proof read this? no I didn't but I don't care.
