“WHAT THE FUCK IS WRONG WITH YOU?!” Lando screamed.
Oscar sighed.
“We-“
“FUCK YOU MAN! LIKE WHAT THE HELL IS YOUR PROBLEM!?-“
“I could fucking explain if you’d stop INTERRUPTING ME!” Oscar snapped.
“FUCK! FINE, EXPLAIN!”
“it’s your fault. Land-“
“That. Doesn’t. Fucking. EXPLAIN!”
“WHAT? MY LAPTIME WAS RUINED because of you.” Oscar hissed.
“It’s your fault for your penalty.”
“No it isn’t!” Lando groaned.
“I didn’t know you were going to be a bitch and try to OVERTAKE!”
“it’s called a fucking race!”
“NO! ITS A FUCKING QUALI!”
The mechanics next to them groaned, one of them plugging their ears,
The other recording this.
Others, including the drivers started to watch along,
Jesus christ it was getting lou-
“IM DONE!” Lando yelled, tears in his eyes.
Oscar shut up. Even though he never talked, he shut the fuck up.
“I’m done!” He repeated, those tears falling flat down his face.
“Fuck you! And f-fuck McLaren!” He sniffled.
“Fine.” Oscar mumbled.
He sighed, putting his hands into his pockets.
“Let’s just not talk to eachother. K?”
“WELL FUCKING OBVIOUSLY! I DONT WANT TO TALK TO YOU STUPID FUCKING BITCHY ASS EIT-“
Oscar walked away before Lando could finish.
”fine.”
Was that all he could fucking say?!
Well so be it.
Fuck him.
Fuck Oscar piastri. Said Lando, wiping his tears furiously.