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I can't remember when I started doing it, or why I'm still doing so, but I do know that I love the feeling of the blade sliding across my skin, the sight of blood drops appearing in my previously clean arm, and the mental clarity I get afterwards.
I know it's not healthy, there's no denying it, but for some sick and twisted reason I just can't seem to stop, but it's not like I want to anyways.
Luckily for me, the nomex and fireproofs have long sleeves, so I only really have to worry when I'm wearing my teamkit or normal clothes, but it's nothing I can't hide with a hoodie or jacket, especially now that we're nearing winter (or at least in the northern hemisphere).
Unluckily for me tho, Lando has started to noticed something is wrong. We were always known for wearing completely different clothes, and the fact that you wouldn't guess the weather by looking at us both, but nowadays we both arrive to the track in similar clothing, which has got him a bit suspicious, that and the fact that whenever he asks about it, I tell him to piss off.
Today is media day in Vegas, and once again I'm covering my scars with a hoodie, something that not many people would question, as it's a simple clothing item, but Lando knows me so well and hasn't stopped pestering me into taking it off.
"C'moooon Osc, it's not like I'm asking you to undress yourself or something, just take your hoodie off, you look weird" Lando's acting like a child now, great.
"It's the 100th time you've asked me to do so and my answer is still no" If it were for me, I would've punched him in the face already, but I know I can't, so I stick to answering his ridiculous request.
"Whatever you say. Just so you know, I will see you without it by the end of the weekend" And with that, he leaves for another interview.
It's about 10 minutes before FP1 starts and I just can't get my brain to turn the fuck off and concentrate, so I go back to my drivers room and take my phone out of it's case. That's where I hide my blade, since my phone's always with me, there's no risk of anyone finding it.
I roll up my sleeves and find an empty space to start cutting. At first it stings, obviously, but sooner rather than later the mental clarity comes. I don't know how to explain it, but something inside of me relaxes when the blade hits my skin, like a secondary reaction to the pain or whatever. For some reason I can't have my arms uneven, so I repeat the process on my right arm, patch everything up and soon enough I'm ready to get into the car.
Qualifying was shit. There's no other way of describing it, going out on Q2 was not part of my plan, let alone going out because the car decided to shunt itself into the wall.
I was mad, really mad, so after apologizing to the team I went back to my drivers room. Andrea wanted me to go to the medical center and get a check-up, but there's no way I'm doing it, instead I take out the blade again and repeat my well known 'ritual'. By the end of it I'm still mad, but at least I've punished myself.
Lando finishes on pole, the 8th of the season, matching the ones that Max got before the RB20 decided to stop working. He's happy, and I know I should be too, because he's my friend, but I feel disappointed in myself. Why can't I be like him? All smiley, making the team proud.
"Knock knock" I hear as my door is opening, we just got back from the drivers parade and we have about 2 hours before the GP.
"You know Lando, saying 'knock knock' defeats the whole purpose of actually knocking the door" Despite not having the best of the weekends, I'm still happy to see him. Plus, it helps to distract myself from my annoying thoughts.
"Yeah yeah, still in the hoodie I see" He comments with a smug smile on his face as he closes the door and starts walking towards me.
"Well, yeah. Let me remind you it's like 8pm, I don't want to catch a ccold" I say as I'm still laying on my bed, phone in hand, not looking at him.
Suddenly, I feel a hand on my arm, it hurts but I don't dare to make a sound, but then Lando starts to wrestle with me, trying to take it of.
"What the-" I start to fight him, wincing now and then due to the burn and stinging from my arms.
But just as soon as it started, Lando stands in front of me, hoodie in hand and wide-eyed. That's when it hits me, cold air in my bare arms, salty tears falling from my eyes and a shivering that I have no idea where it came from.
"Oscar..." Lando starts saying, but I give him no chance to, as I stand of, snatch the hoodie from him and start running as fast as I can. As I'm putting it back on, I hear quick footsteps following me, I have no idea where I'm going, but I do hear people calling out my name, volume lowering each step I take.
When I finally stop and get a chance to breathe, I realize I actually can't, I'm hyperventilating, face wet from my tears and probably sweat, and a pang in my heart. It hurts.
I don't know how long I stay there, trying to calm myself down when I start hearing my phone buzzing. Multiple lost calls from Lando, Tom, Zak and even Andrea, also about 100 messages and pings on the driver's groupchat and a lot more from Lando's number.
"No no no no no, this can't be happening" I repeat over and over again, to try and comfort myself. But nothing seems to be working.
It's now less than an hour before lights out and I know damn well I can't miss the GP, so I grab all of the courage I have left and go back to the McLaren garage.
I ignore Lando as I enter and apologize to Zak and Andrea while reassuring them that I'm ok and just needed some time to breathe. Thank god Lando didn't tell them. After changing myself, I quickly grab my phone and text a quick 'Everything's ok' to the groupchat, without really reading any of it, and get into the car.
The race was one to forget, I couldn't concentrate, almost kissed the walls again and missed an opportunity to overtake Charles, so I ended up P7 while Lando won his 4th GP, keeping the hopes for the championship alive. Great, just what I needed.
I watched the podium celebrations from my room, Lando was looking really off despite winning, and I know it's my fault.
A few minutes later I hear actual knocking coming from my door. I get up slowly from my bed and walk towards the door, it's Lando, of course. I ignore every thought telling me not to open and jump out the window instead, and open the door.
We stand in full silence for like a minute, looking at each other, before Lando dares to speak. "I'm really sorry, I didn't mean to, I really didn't. I just- I don't know, I just wanted to have some playful banter with you, after all, you've been a bit down lately and-"
"Ok, let me stop you right there" I start "You don't have the fault for any of this, believe me" My voice is quivering and I feel more tears coming out of my eyes "I'm the one who should be sorry, you shouldn't have seen that, it's my fault-"
I can't keep talking, as Lando is suddenly hugging me, also crying. "Listen, if you want, I can help you. I don't know much, but I can look for a psychologist, you can talk to me, anything really. I'm here for you"
That's all it takes for me to fully break down, incontrolable sobs and loud sniffs coming out of my body, while Lando is there, supporting me. I think we were making too much noise because suddenly Tom walks in and asks us what's going on. No words come out of my mouth, but Tom comes close and hugs me too, making soothing circles in my arms.
And that's when I know. I will be alright.