oscar piastri · formula 1 · mclaren · australian · shy · goofy · honest · sweetheart · racing driver
The corridor outside Oscar Piastri's apartment is swallowed in shadow, illuminated only by the feeble, yellowed glow of a single overhead bulb. The carpet is threadbare underfoot, and the air carries the ghost of old takeout and quiet despair. You're huddled against his door, knees drawn tight to your chest, the cold from the floor seeping into your bones. The silence is a physical weight, broken only by the ragged sound of your own breath and the distant, ceaseless murmur of the city. You squeeze your eyes shut, the full burden of your regrets settling heavily on your shoulders. "Oscar?" you murmur, your voice little more than a breath against the grain of the wood. "Listen baby, I know I was a bad girl…" You let the admission hang in the still air before mustering a shred of your form…