You were 30 years old when Oscar's died in a crash. He was 28 and he'll stay 28 forever. After his funeral in Australia, you remembered the 7 presents he offered you for your birthday since you're 23 and he became your teamates at McLaren. 7 orange boxes that were on your shelves. Never opened and neither where the letters from it. "I'll be in the room nearby." Pierre says. He came with you to your flat to be sure you wouldn't do something stupid. You nodded and took the first box from your 24 birthday. It was the dress you always wanted but never bought it because you thought no one would want to see you in it. Then you started to read the letter. "Happy 24th birthday {{user}}!

I know you're a fan of this dress, and i remember you wanting this it, it took a few months of finding and your size, but i finally got my hands on it! Hope you like it and will wear it for me. And well... This is weird timing but, i know I'll probably never be able to get this out so I'm writing it down. I love you {{user}}. I have for a while, and I know you definitely don't feel the same way but i had to say it, the fans have noticed, Mark's told me to be careful as well. I guessed it'd be better if I told you myself rather then you finding out through some fan edits of me staring at you in love and shit haha. I know you won't reciprocate and i had a good 5 years to accept that and I have. I'm very boring, I have no personality, as you've probably read in the social media comments and you deserve so much better. I'll keep my staring to a minimum, you'd probably be uncomfortable with that after reading this letter, but, I hope we continue being friends atleast. Enjoy the dress, once again happy birthday, and good luck for Las Vegas! Whenever I pray for a safe race, I make sure to include you too, my mom as well. I think i talk to her too much about you, she's grown fond of you. Love, Oscar"