- Only fictional character is y/n's boyfriend- Jordan Piastri.
- Any F1 races in the story are based off how Formula one works, but is not a representation of actual races. (Just incase someone tries to correct me on peoples' placing, etc)

————————————x————————————

Evening. 7:46pm

"How long will dinner take?, I'm starving"

I sigh at the kitchen counter, staring at the almost prepared Caesar salad, the discordant hums of the Grand Prix replays in the living room.

Jordan Piastri, Oscar Piastri's brother, was my boyfriend. Jordan raced for Mercedes, whereas Oscar raced for McLaren, alongside Lando Norris.

Jordan impatiently throws open the kitchen door, to make me highly aware that if dinner was not in front of him in the next two minutes, me and him were going to have a problem.

He wasn't always like that. When he was a semi-professional racer, he was a dream. He was sincere, polite, a true gentleman, who didn't let his career and dreams blind him from how to be a truly decent person. Once he made it to professional, it changed him. He become distant, cold, controlling, and acted as if it was a privilege to be in his presence.

The only privilege i felt once he made it big was that it meant he was out of the house more. And as he no longer bothered to call or text me when he wasn't home, I pretended I was no longer with him. Not by going out and cheating on him, but by roaming around our house as if it was my own.

We had been together for 4 years, and Jordan had been a professional for a year. He let me come to watch races occasionally, as to not build suspicion as to why his girlfriend was absent. I was hoping after a year perhaps his ego would level out, and his past self would reemerge, but I was very wrong.

It only seemed to get worse, but I still held onto some hope that maybe if I stayed, I could change him. Change him back to his old self, the one I fell in love with, and the one I wanted back. I didn't want to start over, especially after knowing who Jordan used to be and how perfect that was. It felt silly to let that go, and I wanted the old him back, not a new not him. I loved him, and as much as my friends had told me to move on, I couldn't.

I quickly finished preparing the salad, and walked into the living room to hand Jordan his food. He barely removed his glance from the flatscreen, or gave me any sort of appreciation, or even a grunt. Radio silence was all I received, unless it was to ensure I hurried up meals or a grocery run.

"You're welcome," I murmured.

His head shot around, and glared at me with anger. His cheeks flushed red, with a concoction of anger and embarrassment, that one could ever defy him.

"Excuse you, how dare you talk to me that way. I think you forget that you're lucky I keep you around, because no one else would want you."

I look to the floor. I mumble an apology and rush out of the living room, shutting the door behind me. I slump against the door, still hearing the faint noise of the replays of Jordan's recent race.

From what I could hear, his brother was a lot better than he was, placing in 9th, and Jordan had come 18th. A small smile crept up on my face. Another name I managed to catch was Oscar's partner, Lando, who came in 4th.

I was secretly glad Jordan wasn't doing the best, because that would make his ego rise even more, but was also wishing he would place a little higher, because then maybe he wouldn't be so frustrated and take it out on me.

His words replayed in my head, that no one else would want me, and perhaps he was right. His words were only more of an incentive that I should stay with him, just incase I could find no one else. And I didn't want to restart with anyone else, as that would be three great years down the drain.

I decided I would run myself a bath, and try to use it as a distraction from everything else going on. As I let the bath run and the bubbles rise, I lit a vanilla and sandalwood candle, and dimmed the lights. Yes, the lights dimmed in every room, as Jordan decided to splash out on his house, probably as a way to gloat his growing success. I wouldn't call placing 18th exactly a one to gloat about.

I propped my iPad up on the bath tray, and decided I would watch the race highlights, knowing that I wouldn't see Jordan in those. I smirked.

The iPad was a gift from Jordan a few weeks ago, as a way to say sorry without actually saying it. He had punched a hole in the wall next to my head, but 'didn't mean to and was an accident', and that I was just in the way. In a sense, it was hush money, but more hush materialism.

I wondered what he would buy me if he actually connected with my face, and if that day would ever come, and if I would reconsider my decision to stay. I didn't know, and instead decided to shut all thoughts off, and search for the highlights.

As I went to click on the first YouTube video, i recognised the face of the thumbnail.

It was Lando Norris.

————————————————————————

I hope people see this and enjoy, it's been a while since I've done a new story!