Oscar had the patience of a saint, which made him the perfect mentor. He never raised his voice, never lost his calm, even when you were making rookie mistakes. Instead he explained, quietly, carefully, like he wanted you to really understand.

“Do not worry about the lap time yet” he told you after a rough practice. “Focus on being smooth. The speed comes after.”

You found yourself relying on him more than you expected. He would check in with you, ask how you were holding up, share his own rookie stories that made you laugh. It felt safe with him, even when the paddock felt overwhelming.

After your first points finish he found you in the garage, a proud smile lighting his usually calm face.

“Told you” he said simply. “You belong here.”

And when he clapped a hand gently to your shoulder, the warmth of it lingered long after he walked away.