Manic [h.s]

#024

"But I'm about to show you, baby, slow down"

Slow Down | Chase Atlantic

Holy shit, I did not know the actual meaning of the lyrics 'till today

February 09, 1999

IRIS XANDER

Harry tosses the helmet, and I snatch it out of the air just before it hits the ground. I twirl it once in my hand before slipping it on. Then in one motion, I swing a leg over the seat of the sleek Ducati Monster that I've chosen. I settle into the seat, gripping the handlebars as I rev the engine.

We roll out of the garage, our bikes roaring to life as we hit the empty road. The evening air is cool, the streetlights casting long shadows. I park the Ducati next to Harry's bike, the engines purring in anticipation as the road ahead lies wide open.

Harry mounts his bike, his usual smug face hidden behind his helmet. I strap on my own helmet, tightening the chin strap. I slip on the leather gloves that he handed me, his own fingers snug in half-finger gloves, the rings probably stashed away somewhere safe.

"This is the starting point," he says, his voice muffled slightly by the helmet. "We're gonna head straight down this road for about eight miles," he continues, pointing ahead at the dark road. "Keep going until you reach the end and then take a left, then it's a straight shot until you see an intersection. Turn right and keep going. It's gonna be a long stretch until you see a big red barn—that's your signal to take another right. After that, it's just a few more miles before you see a giant lake—you can't miss it. We'll consider it the finishing line. Got it?"

I flex my fingers around the handlebars, mentally mapping out the route. Taking a deep breath, I sink deeper into the seat, feeling the powerful engine humming beneath me. Harry's eyes lock on mine through his helmet's visor in anticipation. I nod, even though I'm not sure if he can see it.

He revs the engine, the loud roar echoing through the empty road as smoke billows out of the exhaust. "We'll start on the count of three," he shouts over the noise. I give a thumbs-up, making sure he knows I'm ready.

"Three!" The engines roar loader. My heart pounds, adrenaline flooding my veins.

"Two!" I grip the handlebars higher, muscles tensed, ready to launch.

"One!" We both shoot forward, tires screeching against the asphalt. Smoke curls behind us and the world blurs as we race down the straight road. The wind hits me hard, nearly knocking the breath out of me but it's exhilarating. My grip tightens on the handlebars as I focus on the road, feeling the raw power of the motorbike roaring beneath me.

Harry is right beside me, and his bike roars next to mine, the sound almost deafening. The bikes are neck and neck, both of us pushing them to the limit.