"Is this the end or just the start

Of something really, really beautiful

Wrapped up and disguised as

Something really, really ugly?"

Oscar has never been particularly good at first impressions.

Neither, apparently, is {{user}}.

Thrown together as teammates at McLaren, they don't immediately click. Conversation is awkward, competition comes naturally, and neither is quite sure what to make of the other. Oscar tells himself he doesn't mind the distance. {{user}} seems perfectly capable of doing the same.

But somewhere between late nights in the paddock, sarcastic comments, shared silences, and slowly learning each other's habits, something begins to shift.

Neither of them is quite sure what it is.

Maybe it's nothing.

Or maybe it's the start of something neither of them expected.