~ Outside The Speedway ~ (Lightning McQueen x OC)

Chapter 4

The paparazzi looked at us and immediately started taking photos and bombarding us with questions.

"Embers, how are you feeling about the race next week?"

"McQueen, how does it feel to have competition in the same range as yourself?"

"Are you two officially a couple?"

Lightning whispered to me, telling me to ignore them for now,  and that we'd answer the questions inside. He also told me to just wave and smile.

We got inside, after being checked by security, and thankfully the paparazzi stopped asking questions after they moved on to Chick Hicks and his date, who arrived after us. The inside was more impressive than the outside. Grand glass staircases, twirling and leading up to other floors, giant light-up plastic sculptures hanging from the ceilings. Tables set up against walls with food and other beverages. The music was even louder here too.

I look at the drinks on the tables, "Isn't it a little early to start drinking?"

Lightning laughs. "Apparently not." He lets go of my arm. "Alright you know what to do, walk around, if reporters ask about you and me, say whatever you want, but be confident in including yourself more ok? Or just don't talk to them at all, there's nothing that says you can't. Also, they may try to get under your skin, but don't let them."

"Yea. Got it. I'll try my best."

I sigh. I may be confident in front of my competition, but when it comes to talking in front of reporters, press, paparazzi, I get nervous. I don't get nervous about the press themselves, but more of what comes afterward; the stories they write that then millions of people will see. I say one wrong thing, and the press takes advantage of it.

"I'm gonna go talk to Weathers, meet me at table five upstairs when the announcements start. Don't miss me too much." Lightning winked and walked off. He just had to add a wink, or he thinks he'd lose his whole reputation as the Lightning McQueen, King Flirt of the North; or whatever girls called him these days.

Such a try-hard.

I shake my head and turn to go forward. I jump in surprise when a reporter turns up in front of me out of nowhere. She was dressed in a black suit and black high heels. Her long, brown hair was super straight, sitting on her back, not a hair out of place.

"Hi, Grace Fencling, I'm from Todays Racing, Tomorrows News magazine. Could you answer some questions for me?" She asks, already snapping photos of me with her camera. I smile and nod. Grace holds out a hand-held recorder, press two buttons, and faces it towards me.

"Alright, everyone's asking, are you and McQueen secretly dating? If not, are there any feelings involved from either of your sides?" She asks, looking down at the note pad she was now holding.

Damn these reporters are fast. I didn't even see the notebook earlier.

"Sorry to disappoint, but no, we're not dating and there are no feelings involved from either of us. We're just friends and rivals." I answer. Grace nods and writes something down on her notepad.

This is going well.

"Alright, then why did you two arrive together, in his race car?" She asks, raising her eyebrows to make a point.

"Well, we were trying to prove we could make an appearance in public together, instead of fighting. And no, we arrived in his sports car, not his race car." I point out. Grace smiles slyly and asks:

"How come you know the difference between his sports car and race car when most can't?"

"Any good racer knows the difference between a Chevrolet Corvette and a rear winged Acura. Even if they're painted the exact same way. The type he drives is in fact one of the only Acura's that even has a rear wing." I said, a little irritated. Screw any good racer, any racer knows the damn difference between two different-branded cars! I remember what Lightning said about annoying reporters, so I try to keep my smile satisfactory, and I try to hide my irritation.