The Silver Fighter | ✓

Respectfully Declining Dying

The first two races were uneventful, to be honest.

People placed bets, money was won, money was lost. Blah, blah, blah.

Then, it was my turn to race.

"ALL RACERS IN TIER TWO, ALL RACERS IN TIER TWO. LINE UP AT THE STARTING LINE." The announcer's voice boomed over the speakers, sounding staticy and gravelly.

I shivered as the sinking pit in my stomach worsened as I made my way back to my car.

'This isn't going to end well...'

"You've got this, Ace. Just keep your head on straight." Scar remarked from beside me, as if reading my thoughts. Her 5'2 frame was just three inches shorter than my own as she spoke to me, which is ironic considering she's only a year older than me.

I gave her a weak chuckle and said, "Easier said than done, Scar. Those guys look like they could kick my arse and throw me into a wall faster than I could say 'fuck'." Scar snorted at my remark and gave me a light punch in the arm.

"Hey, you had me as your teacher." She declared smugly, then narrowed her eyes at me when she thought of something, "I swear if you put any of my training to waste-" She began, but I rolled my eyes at her and unlocked my car.

"Oh, please. I've never been beaten before." I pointed out, but Scar simply rolled her eyes at me as I got into Mercury. I started the car with a low hum of the engine and drove to the starting line, beyond ready to kick some arse. There, I pulled up to the right side of Max Stelliano, a frenemy of sorts.

We have banter at times, but we're the most competitive duo in the entire racing arena.

"So, Ace. Ya ready to lose?" Max asked me, his voice gravelly from all the underage smoking. I rolled my eyes at the smug look in his cloudy and bloodshot brown eyes.

"Getting high before a race?" I questioned with a quirked brow. "Not the smartest move right before a race." I retorted back, not missing a beat. Max simply laughed and threw me his signature seventeen-year-old scumbag grin.

"Charming as ever to talk to ya." He said me while running a hand through his dirty-blond dyed hair and then faced the track ahead which disappears behind a set of thick trees.

'Teenage dirtbag, alright.'

I rolled my eyes at him before looking away, only to find the two lads from before with their clever name, Brute Force, each in their own matching car, staring at me to my right, their eyes unflinching.

'...freaky.'

I silently raised a brow at them and they simply continued to stare emotionless through their windows directly at me.

'Fucking weirdos.'

Now, I was so fucking tempted to shout at them, 'Take a picture; it'll last longer, sweetheart.' because being condescending to grown-ass men is fun.

BUT...I thought better of it considering they would have numerous different occasions to kill me once we were on the racecourse and out of sight from potential witnesses.

'Pissing them off could mean ultimate death so...I'll respectfully decline.'

Instead of being the child that I am and intentionally provoking them, I chose to look out my window and scan for my friends.

Wow. Never thought I'd ever say those words.

Holy shit.

Regardless, I had noticed that the group was standing close to the center of the bleachers and surrounded by hundreds of people while Ben and Gray looked uncomfortable as Scar shouted audibly at some middle-aged man with a horrid blond toupe who, I had assumed, in the words of Scar, 'Done fucked up real bad.'