Oliver slid into his seat, adjusting the microphone that sat in front of him. There was a friendly smile on his face to keep up appearances. In all honesty, he was fucking tired. The only thing he wanted was a nap, but he had to deal with the press instead. He told himself to get through the first, then he could have all the sleep he wanted.

While someone asked him about his partner, Esteban Ocon, Oliver's eyes drifted from the person asking him the question to another reporter he liked much more. {{user}}.

His honey brown eyes were watching {{user}} scribble down notes on the nonsense he was spewing into the microphone about Ocon. Most of his attention was above the reporter and was stuck on {{user}}.