VIPER || Oscar Piastri

Chapter 2

[ POV: Oscar Piastri ]

"Andi? Oh, yeah she went that way with..." I paused, pointing in her direction. Her, of course, being this 'Andi' that apparently everyone knew except me. I wouldn't normally tell complete strangers the whereabouts of other complete strangers, but neither person in this situation is,
in-fact, a complete stranger. Well, that's not to say that I know this 'Andi' person. At all.

Of course, I'd connected the dots by this point that 'Andi' and 'the Viper' were the same person. I'm not stupid. But, despite the fact I'd been told that she was apparently an excellent biker, and that she'd had either a really good or really bad summer, I was no closer to actually knowing her.

"Okay, I see her, thanks man! Owe you big time." Max said. Verstappen, that is. It's still very weird to me that I have casual conversations with him from time to time. That's not to say that I initiate them, either; It's normally him that starts talking to me and I'm left scrambling for words. It's also very weird that I'm allowed to call him 'Max'. He told me so himself, but I've yet to say it to his face. So far all I've managed to call him is 'mate'.

I watched him disappear into the packed room. I wasn't sure why he wanted to find her; I couldn't exactly ask. It would be a little weird for me to interrogate the Max Verstappen over wanting to find his supposed friend. I mean, it made sense that she'd know him, considering her MotoGP background. And anyway, something else nagged at my brain.

Firstly, why did she hide her drink from Leclerc when he was coming over? My first instinct was that perhaps, because she was a racer, that she had... a race? At some point? But it could really be anything; I have no idea.

And secondly, why did it seem like she wanted to be anywhere but here?

Every now and then I caught sight of the girl I'd just met, standing alone in the centre of the dance floor. Figuratively, I mean. I could sometimes spot Leclerc mover her arms about in an effort to make her ease up, but she never did. Even as Verstappen got to her, she didn't budge. A smile and some small talk was all he received, then she went back to looking as if she wanted to leave.

After a couple more minutes, which I'd imagine felt a lot longer to her if she indeed wasn't enjoying herself, I saw her look at me.

Do you want to leave?

She seemed surprised to find me looking back, so she soon turned away. When she did, I realised that I shouldn't be guessing and deciding on her state of mind; I was in no place to do so. I didn't know her, therefore I couldn't possibly know if this was her way of enjoying herself. I mean, look at me. My idea of enjoyment when it comes to things like this is basically just 'people watching', as Lando likes to word it. Which is exactly what I'm doing right now; Just watching. And that doesn't make me an expert at knowing peoples feelings by merely looking at them.

Then, as if he heard that I momentarily thought of him, Lando appeared next to me once again looking rather annoyed. I uncrossed my arms and turned back towards the bar, as he had his arms rested on the counter. Before I could ask what was wrong, he did so himself.

"The stupid DJ-man won't let me DJ." He said, grumpily. I could've laughed, but I held back.

"That sucks, mate. But maybe he—"

"I brought my USB and everything! And my backup USB!"

This time, I did laugh. I anticipated an attack, and there it was straight after he heard me; I was hit across the shoulder, making me laugh even more.

"This isn't funny, Oscar! I'm being deprived of my musical talents."

It's like he was doing it on purpose. Another laugh was let out, resulting in another punch to the shoulder. I clutched it, trying to make myself stop. As I did so, I saw that Lando had rested his back against the bar, so I copied.