Chapter Text
Danny likes to think that being an Australian makes him an honorary European, I mean they are technically part of the commonwealth so it does make sense, so when he’s around the rest of the grid, he counts himself a part of Europe and the culture. Monaco is quite possibly his favourite European country, maybe because it’s secluded from the outside world, maybe because of it’s beauty, maybe it’s because his friends live there. Whatever the reason, he loves the place and for that reason even chose to buy a house there. Although he’s not racing this season, he still spends a lot of time around the other drivers – he’s quietly hoping a seat opens up for him because he loves these people, this life – he doesn’t want to leave it behind so abruptly. So when the 2023 Monaco Grand Prix rolls around, he is borderline giddy with excitement.
The Monaco Grand Prix has a little bit of a reputation for being one of the most crazy weekends for the drivers; it’s been said that in the days of old, parties went on for days after the race had finished. Danny had been there for some of the days, he can confirm that most of the rumours are true. Obviously after seeing Max’s performance this season, he knows his former teammate and best friend will cinch the win here. However he also knows that that given Max more time to plan a party; although sometimes Max can be quite reserved, Monaco makes everyone come alive.
His first mission of the weekend though, is to have a chat with Lando. It’s true what people were saying about Daniel’s time at McLaren – the team drained the life and love out of him due to his lack of performance. After seeing McLaren’s all round poor performance this season, he was first smug (thank you karma), and second concerned.
Last year, Lando had continuously out performed him despite being less experienced; however he had formed a bond with the young brit. Formula 1 had been ruthless to Daniel, he desperately wanted Lando to skip that part of his career and continue being the smiley boy that he was, even if Danny couldn’t. So to see the pit of despair that McLaren as a team were in concerned Daniel. He knew that Lando took these things harshly and he was probably feeling the pressure with a new rookie teammate. Although Miami hadn’t ended in a DNF, Lando was significantly out of the points and the disappointment on his face during the interviews was devastating to see even though none of it was Lando’s fault.
So, in an attempt to check in on his old friend (and meet his Australian replacement), he was heading over to the McLaren hospitality – his steps fervent and his mouth set in a focused line.
The familiar papaya paint was blinding, but he stepped through the doors of his old team’s hospitality nevertheless. He wasn’t furious with Zak for dropping him (the large sum of money was very comforting) but he did still harbour an itch of annoyance, he tried not to let that show as he wandered through the building. Because it was early in the morning the place was pretty quiet, so he could already hear Lando’s distinguishable giggles echoing through the halls, he brushed past a couple of his old mechanics, shooting them a friendly smile and rounded the corner to find Lando sitting on a table with his new teammate Oscar laughing about something.
A soft grin appearing on his lips, he crept up behind Lando, closing the short distance between the two with a finger on his lips to alert Oscar. Then suddenly clapped his hands down on Lando’s shoulders.
Jumping out of his skin the boy squealed, “Ahh!”
Then when he clocked that it was Danny standing in front of him, he gasped, “Daniel,” and pulled him into a tight hug.
“What are you doing here,” He breathed as he pulled away.
“I was in Monaco, wandering the paddock so I thought I’d check in.” Daniel explained, rounding the table and taking the spare seat between the two drivers that were sporting papaya.
Lando quickly sat back down, and gestured over to Oscar, gently introducing him, “Danny, this is Oscar.”
“Nice to meet you mate,” Daniel greeted the rookie driver, extending a hand.
Oscar took his hand and shook it softly, a nervous smile on his lips, “Sorry about your seat,” He consoled.
Daniel just laughed, leaning back into the chair, “No worries, really.”
“It’s nice to see another Aussie round here anyways, I would’ve been distraught if there wasn’t anybody representing Australia on the track.” Daniel continued, leaning over to grab one of the croissants piled up in the middle of the table.
“Yeah, yeah somebody’s got to do it.” Oscar nodded warmly, Daniel could see him fidgeting with his hands under the table.
‘Poor boy,’ Danny thought, ‘He probably wasn’t expecting to meet the guy whose seat he took this early in the morning on such an important weekend’. Daniel remembered very well how on edge he was for the whole of his rookie season.
Leaning forward in his chair, with a slight shit-eating grin on his face, he not-so-subtly whispered to Oscar (code for Lando could hear everything he was saying.)
“Listen mate, I know all these Europeans are fucking weird sometimes but trust me they’re all super nice and once you get past some of the strange habits – you’ll be an honorary European by the end of the season.”
Lando leaned forward, protesting heavily (he shouldn’t be, Daniel could argue that he was the weirdest of them all, during his time at Red Bull he’d witnessed some things involving Lando that he wished he could burn off his retinas.)
“We’re not that bad!”
“Yes, yes, you are.” Danny quickly combatted.
He turned back to Oscar, “And if you ever want some Tim Tams, I’ve got a shit ton at my apartment – just let me know.”
A bright smile appeared on Oscar’s face, “Thanks mate.”
“No problem, I’ll see you both on Sunday’s party.” He grinned, removing himself from the chair and strolling out of the room (and hospitality.) He was only a few steps out of the room when he heard Oscar ask Lando,
“What does he mean, Sunday’s party?”
Danny’s smile only got wider.