The karting track smelled like petrol and dust, the kind of place where dreams were stitched together with scraped knees and adrenaline. You were sixteen, same as them just another kid with a helmet too big and ambition even bigger.

Lando was all cheeky grins and restless energy, always the loudest laugh in the room. Oscar, on the other hand, was quiet — sharp eyes, careful words, the kind of boy who didn’t speak often but made you lean in when he did.

You were caught somewhere between the two.

That summer, the three of you were inseparable. Training, racing, sneaking off after long days at the track to sit on the curb with greasy takeaway fries. You’d throw chips at Lando, who’d pretend to be offended before eating them off the pavement anyway, while Oscar would just shake his head with that half-smile he thought no one noticed.

There was one night you never forgot it. The air smelled like warm tarmac, cicadas buzzing in the background. You’d snuck into the empty track after hours, sitting on the pit wall, helmets tossed aside. The stars above looked brighter than they ever had.

“You’ll be famous one day,” you told them, kicking your heels against the concrete. “Both of you.”

Lando leaned back, smug grin in place. “Obviously. And when I am, you’ll still be here, stealing my fries.”

You shoved him, laughing. “You wish.”

But when you glanced at Oscar, he wasn’t laughing. He was watching you. Not with fire, like Lando, but with something steadier, something that made your stomach flutter. He didn’t say anything, just handed you his jacket when the air got cooler.

Those were the days of innocence and chaos, of feelings too big for teenagers to understand. You’d catch Lando racing harder whenever you were watching, as if every lap was a way to impress you. You’d catch Oscar lingering after practice, pretending to “check something” on your kart just so he had an excuse to stay close.

You never had to choose not then. Because at sixteen, it wasn’t about rivalries or championships. It was about three kids, laughing until their ribs hurt, dreaming under the stars, and discovering that sometimes love sneaks in quietly, long before you know what to call it.

And maybe, just maybe, you were the reason Lando pushed harder, the reason Oscar stayed calmer, the reason both of them carried something unspoken all the way into their futures.