Chapter Text
“Is everybody here?” Lewis called.
Logan huffs, grabbing his phone to send a text to Callum.
Hey, are you arriving soon?
They were gathered around a dining table, long and draped in expensive cream cloth. The restaurant they had gathered at was located in Monaco, after extensive planning to make sure everybody had the time to make it. Under the evening sky, Logan wore his least wrinkled linen shirt and dress pants, opting for sneakers as it was only a short trip.
The table consisted of all the drivers on the grid and some other ex-drivers like: Nico Hulk, Kevin, Valterri, Max and Checo. With the addition of the other drivers, the table was livelier than usual, but the atmosphere was more than welcome.
It was an informal dinner, just to get everyone together for some food.
The table reminisced of the days in elementary school, where kids would sit along a long table, eating their lunch as they chatted about their daily lives. Logan had sat next to Alex, leaving the seat to his right empty for Callum. He looked around the table of drivers with eager looks and cheerful expressions, feeling incredibly out of place.
Logan noticed Callum that hadn’t shown up yet. He was late, he presumed. The both of them didn’t live in Monaco–instead staying in Florida or Indiana, where Andretti resided. He was probably on his way, anyway.
He was getting slightly worried, but…he wouldn’t forget, would they?
Ten minutes later, a hand slipped onto the table, handing his first appetiser. He looked up, alarmed, head swerving to the table.
Callum was nowhere to be seen.
Logan swivels around, looking at everybody. They all seemed to be completely oblivious to the fact that one driver was still missing, and already digging into their food.
Suddenly, he gets a notification from Callum.
Arriving where…?
Do we have sim today
His eyebrows furrow as he quickly sends out an answer back.
For dinner.
The one Lewis sent?
Callum quickly reads it and responds only a few seconds after.
He sent me an invite, but I didn’t get a date.
Logan sighed. There were some drivers who had missed out–such as Lance and Paul who had other matters to attend to, but it was downright rude to just forget to invite somebody.
Yeah, he was not having this. Logan stood up abruptly, catching the attention of the drivers. He briskly walked over to Lewis, who was in mid conversation with George.
“Lewis?” He says shortly.
“Oh, Logan!” he looks up, surprised.
“Sorry, I got something to attend to. I have to leave.” he mutters, shifting in his spot. Across the table, Oscar’s stare drills into him.
“Oh, that’s a shame.” Lewis says sympathetically as Logan swallows the truth. “Have a safe trip back, man.”
“Yeah, thanks.” He waves away the farewell, and walks out of the room.
As he makes it out to catch the vibrant vermillion sunset, he texts Callum again.
Are you in Indiana?
He then swipes away to book tickets back home.
f1 Our drivers gathered in Monaco for dinner today!
[A photo of the drivers taken right after their dinner, arms around each other as they pose for the camera.]
Logan, Callum
C: Is this normal lol
C: not inviting me
L: nah.
L: was a mistake probably, but still rude
C: and you left the damn restaurant?
C: come on, free food.
L: It’s okay Callum
L: I didn’t even wanna be there
C: haha
L: I have an idea
L: We can always go get a fancy dinner together
L: who needs the whole grid anyway
C: that sounds alright
C: and it’s Miami next, you know any good restaurants?
L: Of course.
C: after we feast, we can go back to the hotel and watch blockbuster movies too
L: Oh no, we can do that at my house
L: Clear your schedule, it’s time for us to have fun
C: I’ll be there!
All eyes were on Logan during the Miami Race Week. The media duties that came along with being the only American on the grid stacked high up his plate. By the end of all of it, he was exhausted, and all he wanted to do was go home, cuddle Bernie and Coco, and lie down.
As he made his way around the Andretti Hospitality, he bumps into Callum, who looks joyful to see him.
“Hey Logan.” He greets. “Home race week!”
“Yeah, thank you.” He shakes his outstretched hand. “I’ve got reservations booked and we can drive there for dinner after the race. Is that okay?”
“Yes, amazing, thank you.” Callum smiles. “Excuse my foul mood if I do a stinker of a race.”
“I went to a party celebrating Lando’s win when I crashed in Miami, so you’re all good.” They shared a laugh.
“You’re right. Well, I have to go. I’ll see you soon!” Callum gave a quick goodbye and they parted ways.
...
Sprint Quali saw right outside the top ten, which was slightly disappointing, but he assured himself that he had qualified worse and he’d have chances to make it to some points. In the car back to the hotel, he noticed he had received a text message from Oscar. He checked the notification out of curiosity.
Oscar, Logan
O: You left us during that dinner.
O: Did you have plans?
L: Yeah.
L: Callum and I had something going.
O: Okay
O: I noticed he wasn’t there
L: Yeah
Logan goes to shut off his phone, thinking the conversation would end then and there, but his phone buzzed, and he peered at what Oscar had said.
O: Logan, I know you’re angry at me. I’m truly sorry about that. I truly want to make it up to you.
Logan pushes his phone into his backpack and doesn’t look into it any further.
...
He didn’t think he was going to get into the points during the sprint, but he watched Oscar collide with Kimi on the second last lap, their cars spinning away into the gravel and smashing into the barrier. It happened in a split second, but he knew that Mclaren car was definitely Oscar’s, and his heart almost jumped out of his chest as he had seen the incident, teeth clenching and–
“Okay, safety car, Piastri and Antonelli have crashed.”
“Are they–are they okay?” He just managed to let out.
“I will check back with you.”
Logan slowed down, driving right behind the rear of Callum’s Andretti. The rest of the race would be under the safety car, so there was no more fighting. All he had to do was drive the car back to parc ferme, so he could calm down.
“They are okay.” His engineer’s voice crackled back into the earpiece. “Okay, you are P8, P8.”
“Oh, that’s great.” Surprise shoots through his voice. “Thanks guys, that’s awesome.”
That would mean Callum was P7, which was double points for Andretti.
As Logan rolled his car into parc ferme, he jumps out and strides towards Callum’s car, who has already plopped his feet onto the floor, noticing Logan’s presence.
They shook hands, going in for a hug, their helmets knocking against each other.
“Good job, Logan, were you just behind me?” Callum exclaimed, voice slightly muffled.
“Yeah.” Logan jerked his head towards his car.
“That’s amazing.” Callum cheered, bubbly with excitement. “Oh, but I am a bit worried about Antonelli and Piastri.”
“Think they’re fine.” Logan says.
Callum mutters as he peers at a broadcast. “Yeah, they’re walking back.”
His heart finally slides back from his throat into the sliver of space squeezed behind his ribs. Okay. Stop beating so hard. Of course they were fine. He was just worried, after all. Just…worried.
Later, in the media pen, he’s waiting for his turn when Oscar enters the circle. They lock eyes, and Logan doesn’t look away. He just gives an expecting gaze. Oscar nods, slowly, like a greeting, or a I’m fine.
He pretends nothing had happened and turns away.
oscarpiastri Disappointing race today. Cheers to Lando for the win. We’ll recover for tomorrow.
[A photo of Oscar’s Mclaren on the track.]
The actual race was bad.
Logan knew he was spinning before he realised what had happened.
He had already lost two places in the opening, got stuck in a bad pit stop, and was running sixteenth when it happened. He felt something heavy collide into his left rear tyre and he went spinning–it was reminiscent of 2024. He heard all the boos and groans from the crowd when his car lodged into the wall, and he sat there, wondering if it actually happened.
It did.
The culprit? He managed to see a flash of orange zip past. Logan was so so tired. It couldn’t be Oscar, could it? Oscar wouldn’t be so careless…so stupid.
Stupid!
“I’m sorry.” He said to his radio, panting.
“Are you okay?”
“Um..yeah.” Logan muttered, grabbing his steering wheel. “Who was it?”
“Piastri.”
Of fucking course.
He didn’t even know Oscar was behind him. Was he behind him in positions? He hadn’t seen any blue flags, so that must have been the case. But how did that even happen?
Why did he fucking crash into him? On his home race too.
Logan walked away dejectedly, a marshal leading him to where he should go. Elias was running towards him when he left the track, patting him gently on the back. “Keep your head up.” he reassures him. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Thanks,” he murmurs quietly. His head was a mess.
As he returns to the garage, he questions the mechanics of what had happened.
“Oscar was impatient.” His front end mechanic explained. “He had his front wing clipped by George and had to pit, then went down to nineteenth. Then he tried to overtake you, but there was no space.”
“Okay.” Logan didn’t have any words. At least Oscar wouldn’t be finishing anywhere promising. He felt quite bitter. It just had to be him and Oscar, didn’t it? It was like there was a genuine magnet pulling together. The one time he wanted nothing to do with him, they had to collide, forced together.
Logan had wanted to book a flight early, but remembered that Callum and him had a booking at a restaurant. That brought his spirits up a little, and got him the motivation to finish up all his duties. After everything was polished, he was on his way back to the Hospitality to take a look at the race results when a hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Logan froze. He whipped around just to find a familiar face, clad in a simple white tee and black jeans, arms clenched around a toddler, wearing a dainty little flower dress. Since when was Max Verstappen in the garage? And since when did he have a child? Penelope couldn’t be this young…
Logan really had missed out on a lot.
“Hey mate.” Max said cheerily. “Sorry for your race.”
“Oh–um.” Logan stuttered. “C-cool.” he stared at his daughter. “Um, nice kid.”
He chuckled. “Her names’ Maria. I would let you meet Ivan if Sergio wasn’t holding onto him right now.”
He has a SON too?
“Papa, who’s this?” His daughter pointed directly at Logan, who was speechless at the news.
“This is Logan. Say hi to Logan.” He tells her. Maria shows him her pearly whites as she yells out his name, slightly butchered.
“Um, hello.” Logan mumbles. She giggles at the dumbfounded look Logan gives him.
“Are you not going to book a flight home?” Max asks him curiously. “If I crashed out in my home race, I’d be gone.”
“I have dinner with my teammate.” Logan replies, shifting slightly in his spot.
Max raises his eyebrows. “Is it a date?”
Logan looks at him incredulously.
“Hey, that’s how Sergio and I started dating.” He grins. “Have you not resolved your thing with Oscar yet?”
“How do you know that?” Logan demanded.
Max didn’t reply, his eyes twinkling. “You do know that he likes you, right?”
“He likes me?” Logan scoffs. “Oh, really.”
Logan had loved Oscar. He would have asked Oscar out if he thought Oscar had reciprocating feelings. But 2023 rolled around and it was like everything was a lie. Being isolated, only having Alex most of the time–the other times he spent shifting around the other driver’s backs, wondering if they’d give him a chance. Then when he thought him and Oscar were finally getting somewhere, he got dropped. He didn’t think he could feel cheated anymore, so he texted Oscar, hoping for some peace and comfort. Instead, he got a sorry, I’m busy and never again.
“I know you’re hurting, Logan.” Max says calmly. “I know you’re mad. And I think you were entirely justified for it. But when the time comes, you have to talk to Oscar. Sort things out. I don’t think you could truly move on if you didn’t do that.”
Logan heaved a heavy breath. “Well, I can’t be bothered right now. Oscar can go fuck off for all I care. It was nice talking to you, but it’s not going to work out anytime soon. Thanks.” And he walks away, leaving Max hanging.
The ex-driver didn’t seem bothered, though. He heard him yell, “Take your time, Logan!” Before there was nothing else.
...
“I’m so sorry about what happened to you.” Callum says as they enter the restaurant. “That could have been entirely unavoidable.”
“It’s fine. At least both of us didn’t crash. Or this dinner would be quite the experience.” Logan smiled.
They had been sat down at a table near the corner of the restaurant, which was great for utmost privacy.
“Do you wanna share a pizza for appetisers?” Logan points to the Hawaiian pizza.
“As long as it’s not too big.” Callum says, before he spotted the dish that he had suggested. “Are you getting pineapple pizza?”
“Firstly, it’s called Hawaiian.” Logan corrects him.
“Are you mad?” He wrinkled his nose. “That’s an atrocity.”
“Don’t knock it till you try it.” Logan declares. “Okay, too bad for you, I’m getting it.”
“Yeah, you’ll pay for it with your own money.” Callum laughs.
“Aren’t I treating you anyway?” Logan says, amused.
They take a moment.
“Oh no.” Callum says, horrified. “You are not paying for me.”
“Oh yes I am.” Logan laughs. “Just-” He remembers Max’s words”-Just treat it as a first date or something.”
“No!” Callum burst into laughter, sounding entertained and horrified at the same time. “Marcus will kill me!”
“He’ll be fine.” Logan dismissed it.
“So I’m the woman in the relationship?” Callum rolls his eyes.
“Who said anything about women? I’m not straight.” Logan grins.
If the waiter hadn’t come over to take their orders, Logan was sure they would have gotten kicked out of the restaurant because of how hard they had been laughing. After some more squabbles, Logan had managed to hand the waiter his card before Callum did, and they hopped into the car, the route aimed for home. Callum had the fortune of meeting his parents and his brother, and they stayed up watching shitty movies on the television while slumped over a couch. Logan woke up the next day leaning over a pillow, while Callum was curled onto the couch, hands resting under his head.
He had wanted to leave, but Logan gave him some clothes and offered him some of his dad’s barbecue, to which he promptly agreed to. They spent the day wake-surfing and spending time out at the sea, where Logan felt most peace at. He hadn’t even turned his phone on once, just trusting his manager to do the job for him. They had an early dinner due to Callum’s overnight flight and devoured the food. Logan drove Callum to the airport, helping him unload his suitcase and directing him to his terminal.
“That was really fun.” Callum breathed. “Thanks a lot. I felt so American.”
“Glad to provide you some insight.” Logan smiled back. He had never smiled as often as he did those few days.
“Well, I’ll see you at Indiana for sim then.” Callum starts to pull away. “Bye, Logan!”
“Bye, Callum.” It didn’t have to be so miserable, after all. Maybe Logan could have fun with some drivers.
All he had to do now was figure out what to do with Oscar.
callum_illot
[Photos: Callum’s car at the track, a photo of him walking through the paddock, a photo of their table at the restaurant, the food on the table with Logan smiling, a video taken of Callum wake-surfing, a photo of Logan playing pool at his home.]
Luke, Paul
P: so what did you think of the race
P: loscar are NEVER getting back together
L: haha
L: great.
L: why did he crash into him WHY WHY WHY
P: he just didn’t think at all i swear there was no room
L: why does he keep doing this to himself
P: hey at least he doesnt collide with people and blame them for it
P: lol i hate kimi.
L: yeahh idgaf
P: OMG luke you wont believe this
L: is it loscar
P: the andretti teammates went out for dinner LMFAOOOOOO
P: AND CALLUM STAYED AT LOGANS PLACE
L: dont talk to me anymore