Craving Speed [18+]

Chapter 5

Alejandro
DESPECHÀ- Rosalía

Parties. Opportunities to get drunk, high or a one night stand. But parties mean nothing if you don't do one of the above and seeing as I can't, this party means nothing. "Lighten up Mano, we're in Miami!" He teased, slapping his hands on my shoulder. I look over at him with a bored expression."This is not the first time your in Miami, Carlos." It isn't, Carlos and I have been to Miami too many times to count. "I know but the Latinas here? Off the charts." He says as we walk into the club.

"There's Latinas at home." I say looking at him. "Yeah, but not these ones. So many chicas, I dn't know where to start!" He says looking around. Normally I'd agree with him, but I'm not exactly jazzed to be in a club the night before a race. Carlos asked me to be here, so I am.

I make my way to the Vip area and sit down. I rub my eyes as I look at Carlos mingling with some woman and lean my head backwards in the booth.

"You don't look too happy". A sultry american voice asksas I look up. The voice belonging to a blue-eyed, blond haired woman, gazing at me

"I can fix that." The offer is tempting. I look at her up and down and bite my lip. But to my better judgment I stand up, "Sorry, I'm not in the mood". I move past her and spot Carlos dancing with a girl. He sees me, "I'm going now!" I yell over the music. He shoots me a thumbs up and I walk out the clubs doors.

I'm immediately hit with paparazzi. Joder, I should have taken the back door. I greet my fans with th biggest smile. Even though I'm not feeling the best right now. They give me strength and hope to finish. I get into my car and drive to my hotel.

After I greet the receptionist, I walk up to the elevator and go to my suite. I just want to sleep. I look at the clock in my room, 12.00pm. I entirely throw a tantrum, I need to get up at 5 in the morning for training before my race.

I remove my shirt and shoes and climb into the bed. I sigh as I drift off to sleep.
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I awake to a knocking on my door. I groan and look at the time 4.30am. I get out of the bed and walk to the door, reveling a hungover Carlos. I laugh loudly at him.

"I don't find this funny, hermano" He grumbled. I bite back my smile and then realized why he's here.

"Aww, Mano are you here to watch my race?" I place my hand on my hart and pout.

I narrows his eyes. "Just let me in". I step aside, showing him in. "I'm gonna shower real quick" I called ot walking to the bathroom. I step into the shower and let the water run down my body. The music plays outside the shower, hype music.

I climb out of the shower and roll my back muscles. I brush my teeth in the mirror and look at myself.

"Power, mijo. That's what you have."

My grandfather's voice rings in my ears. I think he was harder on me than on his own son. He told me those words on his death bed. His words encouraging me even if it is using his last breaths.

I walk out of the bathroom and put my gym clothes on, since my race suit and sneakers are at the track.

I walk to the living room, loking at Carlos laying on the couch with both of his hands on his head and his foot hanging off. I clap my hand over his ears. He snaps up.

"Mierda, Ale" he mumbled looking at me with annoyance.

"I'm going to go train now. Do what you please, just don't puke anywhere except the toilet. This is four seasons, hermano. Treat it as such."

He throws up two middle fingers and I smirk as I walk outside into the hallway.
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"Focus, Alejandro" I hear my team managers voice booming through my headset. I'm on the track. My place, it belongs to me. Even though I'm at the front staying a lengthy pace away from my competitor, Dean Knight. He races for the brand Potentia and, if you can believe it, even more of an airhead than I am. My team manager's voice never waivers, strong and precise, always speaking those same words. "Stay focused".

I'm entering my final lap swerving with fluid movements around the curves. I can feel my heart beat in my ears as I come to the pinnacle of my adrenaline rush. Winning. I step on the Gass for a final time and cross the finish line. I come to a stop and stand up seeing all my fans.

Look it isn't like I've been winning all my life but it's not only winning that's the reason I do this. Losing, it makes me feel alive, giving Dean hope. I'm not a bad person, I value happiness. I know the feeling you get when you step up on that podium, your national anthem playing over the speaker. The fans screaming your name, the posters, the lights. Everything. It's addictive but luckily I am no addict. To racing, yes. Winning, no.

I'm disrupted fans yelling my name as I walk into the waiting room. Dean Knight and Nathaniel Fleur wait patiently chatting about the free practice as I walk in. Nathaniel as sweet as he is shoots up from his seat "Hey Alejandro!" He says giving me a hug.

I like Nathaniel, he races for Ceannas f1 team. "Hey Nathan" As I said I like Nathaniel. He's good, very good. And his personality just lights up a room, it's rare to find people like that anymore.

Dean Knight on the other hand.  This man would do anything to win. He has a old soul, which I respect. But, and this is a big but. He thinks old too. He doesn't show up to press, fashion events, car showings you name it. He just chills.

"Alejandro." He says looking at me with a dull look. "What your not happy to see me?" I expressed, jokingly placing my hand over my heart.

"Hey Dean" I greet with a smile. He sits down on the bench. We chat a bit while we get ready for the podiums, well mainly me and Nathaniel, Dean just sat there brooding. "Hey guys, podiums" Nathaniel's team manager calls in the room.

We walk up the stairs to the podiums as I hear the fans cheering. I get up on the first place podium. First the French national anthem for Nathaniel, then British for Dean and Spanish for me.

I take the trophy and lift it up as Nathaniel and Dean spray me with Champaign. I laugh. One step closer to my dream.

A/N♡ They're meeting next chapter!