"May I kiss your forehead, Crimson?" She doesn't recoil or say a word, so I press my lips gently against her forehead. It's a tender and fleeting moment, but it fills me with a warmth that I can't explain.
"Just because a relationship has an expirat...
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DREXEL GENESIS
"It has been a long time since we've come here. We are just going to observe the tracks, right?" Archer asks as I drive on the tar road in between the tall trees that sheltered the high-end buildings.
DownSouth was one of the most beautiful and ethereal parts of the city and a majority of the wealthy people resided here, even Kash. We barely come here, as there is no reason for us to do so. I've asked Archer to tag along with me too as I could use more insight.
"Yep, there are no upcoming races there, so we can see what we are into without any disturbances."
The drive takes approximately half an hour, and I pull over when I see the wide old ranch ahead of me. The DownSouth Ranch had been one of the vastest economic spots in our city and had been a great spot for horse racing too, but it shut down decades ago as a result of a big wildfire.
Now, it was used for races mainly run by the rich people in this part of the city. John Grater was also one of them. People like us, who have no connections to the DownSouth whatsoever, illegally race on the old and Abandoned Bridge on the outskirts of the city. Why the Graters and his stupid Ferals team race in that bridge, I don't know, but when there are more options to earn money, I guess he had no reason to let it go.
As I stood there, I could hear someone approach me and I turn to see Ken or Kenan, John Grater's right-hand man, sneering at me menacingly. "So, you're here to assess the difficulty level of racing against Young Master Kash," he sneers.
Archer responds with a sweet yet mocking tone, "Well, Ken-doll, how lovely to meet you."
"Regardless of how much you practice, our Young Master will surely come out on top. The Ferals will finally defeat you, and I can't wait to see the look of defeat on your face this Friday!" Kenan taunts.
"Can you please leave us alone? We have better things to do than entertain you," I interject, frustrated at having to deal with someone I despise first thing in the morning.
"I hear you're racing for a girl," he smirks, causing me to shut him down with a glare and retort, "Mind your own business. Do you have no shame, meddling in the problems of teenagers?"
He responds with a huff, "I'll be keeping my eye on you. This Friday will be one for the history books!." Then he climbs on his bike and drives off into the distance, much to our relief.
"I hope he doesn't do anything to Crimson," I worry, angry at myself for not thinking further about how this could affect Crimson.
"If he does, we are there to stop it. Now come on, let's not waste our time on useless people," Archer says and we start to descend the sandy slopes that led to the tracks.
I was taken aback by the sight of the vast and circular course, which was surprisingly dusty rather than muddy. The absence of rain for weeks had transformed the area into a desert-like landscape, making racing on these tracks a risky endeavour as the dust would obscure our vision.
