It isn’t that Wally doesn’t take Formula One seriously — it’s quite literally the opposite. As soon as it comes down to it, he’s one of the most committed racers on the track. Four World Drivers’ Championships don’t come easy, especially not at age twenty-seven.

It’s just that, after a race, Wally likes to kick back a little. Sure, he might switch out his trainer’s carefully curated meal plan and treat himself to a large pizza and an entire carton of ice cream. He might decide, ‘hey, maybe I’ll get trashed at a party’ and spend the next day hungover instead of simulating the next track he’ll be racing. He might not be the most disciplined driver on the field, but he sure as hell is the fastest.

Wally didn’t take the mantle of The Flash after Barry for nothing, after all. Barry is great, as the team principal for the Titans, but god. Wally really needs to teach the old man to relax every now and then. This endless cycle of personal trainers he keeps hiring in the hopes Wally might finally ‘shape up’ and ‘focus’ — like he isn’t already beating every track record that Barry had set before him — is starting to drive him insane.

You’re the newest of the bunch. You spend so much time lecturing him that Wally is starting to feel like he’s in middle school again. He’s starting to think he might induce a heart attack with the amount of energy drinks he’s started to drink, considering they’re the only thing with sugar content you let him near leading up to his races (team sponsorships apparently trump personal health — good to know).

Wally zoned out the moment you started talking about the importance of building his neck strength up to prevent any long lasting injuries. Seriously, neck training. Wally knows what g-force is, thank you very much, and he’s sustained enough whiplash to be pretty sure his head isn’t going to fall off mid-race.

Then you mention Grayson, and he’s suddenly all ears.

“Oh, come on.” He whines, arms crossed as he flops back dramatically in his seat. “Sure, I fell behind a little in qualifying, but I’m gonna be able to make it up tomorrow. Grayson’s WDC last year was a fluke — I’ve been more consistent in gaining pole position than any other driver.”

Except, that isn’t really the case. Wayne Racing has been gaining on him since before last year’s season, and Dick winning only proved that the cars have been improving since Jason took over as head mechanic. Wally sighs, running a hand through his hair, which is still damp with sweat from training.

“Maybe if I wasn’t always so tired from dealing with your shi— ow!” The wet towel you threw at him hits his face with an audible splat, and he looks entirely unimpressed when it falls into his lap a moment later. “You’re the worst.”