Maroon

Miami

Max

09/05

I swallowed, gently settling into my seat, eyes focused on the road ahead of me. In a couple of minutes, I'd be pushing the gas pedal down, as much as I can, to try and get ahead. To try and be what I was taught to be. A winner.

My hands were gripping the steering wheel, as my mind was already planning every millisecond after the lights turned off. I was ready.

I wasn't breathing when the red turned to black, and I started to gain speed. As every other car around tried to make themselves an opportunity to get ahead of us all, I simply waited for mine. Starting off second, right behind Charles, I simply waited for the right second, the right placement, the right move to get past him with a grin.

It's as I overtook him that I let myself get distracted, for the hint of a moment, just to look at him. And I was soon leaving him in my dust, taking first place.

I can do this.

I got out of the car with a smile. Standing on top of the vehicle, I threw my hands in the air.

Yes! Yes. Yes...

I felt proud. But the voice in my head wondered if he'd be proud. If I was allowed to be proud.

Wins weren't very rare for me, and for that I was lucky, I guess. I was good at what I did. But they made me feel strange. Not really super happy, but not sad... I was content. It just felt right because that's what I was taught. But when I saw the other drivers win, a part of me always wondered if they felt better... If maybe, I was broken.

Charles' hand came in contact with my back as he shot me a smile. "Congrats!" I chuckled and let myself get lost in the jungle of his irises. "Thanks. You too!" His smile widened and we stayed there for a minute. As if I was unable to control my body, I watched him, and the small hint of happiness I felt from the win grew, filling up my heart.

Falling on love isn't for the weak... I'm not sure I can take it.

I had nearly forgotten where we were, as my mind was solely focused on the featherlight touch of his hand.

Even through my race suit, I could feel the warmth that spread across my back as his fingers gently fiddled with the dark blue fabric. Softly taking my mind far away from Miami, as he stared into my soul with the sparkling emerald stones that the world put into his eyes.

It's Stoll that tore us apart, by walking by so fast he almost pushed Charlie into a wall.

"Jeez, Louis, you ok?" He glared at me, scoffing and then proceeded to roll his eyes. If looks could kill...

"You know, Volt, you may win the races, but that's just because you don't care about anything or anyone but yourself! Competitiveness and drive is useful, good. But you... You are just hate-filled and undeserving of all this."

Louis surprised me. I knew it must have annoyed him to lose, but he went too far. My fist was ready to connect with his jaw, but I'd just be telling him and every other person here that he's right. My eyes were stinging as I watched the man in front of me. And all I saw was the look in my father's eyes when he left me on the side of the road after bad race; all I heard were his harsh words when he told me the pain he inflicted me was for my own good, as the child I was watched the blood drip down. Ever so slowly, catching my attention, the crimson red distracting me from the man I couldn't recognize anymore.

"I'm not a villain." He scoffed and I swallowed the need to strangle him. He didn't believe me. No one ever did.

"I am not a villain!" I repeated without missing a beat. Having absolutely no idea if I wanted to scream and hit him or curl up and cry, I took a deep breath. A small crowd of drivers had formed around Stoll and I, but I didn't care. I was drained of any form of care, drained of everything. He only acted that way because he had lost. I knew he probably wasn't trying to be mean, but he had no right to call me selfish and hate-filled.