The tension between Oscar and Carlos had been simmering all season, and today was no exception. The paddock was buzzing with activity- mechanics rushing about, engineers poring over data screens- but none of that noise could drown out the intensity between the two drivers. Oscar was pacing near the hospitality suite, the memory of his heated texts with Carlos lingering in his mind. He felt a knot of uncertainty in his chest. He wanted to know what had caused his breakdown when they'd crossed paths days ago, but the fiery texts they'd exchanged left him unsure how to approach the subject.

"You always make things so difficult," Oscar muttered under his breath before stopping abruptly as Carlos approached. The Ferrari driver's expression was a mix of annoyance and wariness, and the tension between them crackled like static electricity.

"Got something to say, Piastri?" Carlos asked, folding his arms defensively.

Oscar hesitated for a moment, his usual sharp retorts wavering. "Yeah, actually. What the hell is your problem? Every time I try to get a straight answer out of you, it's like hitting a wall."

Carlos' eyes narrowed. "Maybe that's because I don't owe you an answer. Or anything else, for that matter."

"Fine, keep playing the victim," Oscar snapped, his frustration finally boiling over. "But don't act like I'm the bad guy for asking why you were losing it the other day. You think I don't notice when something's wrong? You were in hysterics."

Carlos blinked, momentarily caught off guard by the unexpected sincerity behind Oscar's words. But the bitterness in his chest outweighed the surprise. "Since when do you care?" he shot back. "You're only nice when you think it benefits you."

Oscar clenched his jaw, the insult stinging more than he cared to admit. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to rein in his temper. "Look, I'm trying here. I might've screwed up before, but that doesn't mean I don't care. Something's obviously happened."

Carlos scoffed, shaking his head. "You don't get to flip a switch and act like we're friends now. It doesn't work like that."

Before the argument could escalate further, Pierre appeared between them like a calm in the storm. He stepped in without hesitation, his firm yet patient expression silencing them both. "Alright, enough," he said, holding up a hand to cut through the tension. "This isn't the time or place for whatever this is."

Oscar sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Pierre, stay out of it. This doesn't involve you."

"Yeah, well, you're making it everyone's business," he replied, his voice carrying a subtle warning. He turned to Carlos, his tone softening slightly. "Stai bene? Non devi dirgli nulla, ma... forse potresti parlare con qualcuno che vuole davvero aiutarti."
(Are you okay? You don't have to tell him anything, but...maybe you could talk to someone who actually wants to help.) This was one of the occasions that learning Italian was beneficial in secret conversations.

Carlos' gaze faltered, his defences cracking just enough for Pierre to see the vulnerability underneath. He gave a small nod, muttering, "Sto bene. I just need some space."

Oscar watched as Pierre guided Carlos away from the heated conversation, his stomach twisting with a mix of regret and frustration. He hated how things always seemed to spiral out of control between him and Sainz. For a moment, he considered calling out to him, but the words caught in his throat. Instead, he turned on his heel and walked away, unsure of what to do next.

Later that evening, Pierre found Carlos sitting alone near the paddock, his expression distant as he stared at the darkening sky. "Hey," Pierre said gently, taking a seat beside him. "You don't have to talk about it, but...if you want to, I'm here."

Carlos glanced at him, his lips curving into a faint, tired smile. "Gracias. I don't know if I'm ready to talk, but...it means a lot that you're here."

"No pressure," Pierre replied with an understanding nod. "Just remember, you're not alone in this. Even if it feels like it sometimes."

As the evening wore on, Carlos felt a small measure of comfort in Pierre's quiet presence. And while the tension with Oscar remained unresolved, he couldn't deny that something about their argument had struck a chord- something he wasn't ready to face just yet.