UNTIL THE SONG WAS DONE, oscar piastri

FIFTY - SIX

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MAIA feels like she's dying.

Not even in the fun, cutesy, sighing-as-she-clutches-her-phone-to-her-chest kind of way either. It's just...pure agony.

She has no idea where she and Oscar are gonna go, and she has no clue if they're actually going to make it out of this alive either.

You can only screw up so many times before you wonder if everything will turn out okay in the end; and that's exactly what is scratching at Maia's brain over and over again.

She's made more mistakes than Oscar at this point, and not only is that just embarrassing because of how hung up she was on his own mishaps, but it also just made her feel like complete crap.

Regardless, she remains sat on her bed, scribbling away at her little notebook while Oscar rambles about the beauty of Jeddah before the race weekend officially starts—and she knows well that she'll be seated in Angela's room just like the last race weekend, and she'll most definitely be cheering for Oscar louder than she's ever cheered for anyone else in her entire life.

"...I wish you were here. I think you'd like it," he says, and Maia focuses in on the words.

"I bet I would," she agrees with a nod.

From what her phone screen could allow her to see, Oscar was in his hotel room, stomach flat on the bed and his phone propped up somewhere so she could see him. He was scribbling down in his own notebook too, probably notes about the track or what else the drivers tend to write about in their notes. Whatever they were about, she was sure that they weren't related to aquaculture and its effects on marine animals (which was what she was writing about as they call.)

"I'm just hoping qualifying goes well, that's the goal for now," he adds with a soft smile, looking up from his notes to look at her. It's vaguely high school like, the way his gaze lands on hers with full intent while simultaneously doing something else; like studying in the library and looking up from his work to look at her instead.

"Oh, you'll be fine, mate, don't stress about it," she assures as she looks up from her notes as well.

"'Mate'? Are we using that as an endearing term or something?"

"Hey, 'mate' and 'dude' can be sweet if you want it to be," Maia says, pointing at him with her pencil. "You're not getting any pet-names out of me for a while, anyway."