The streets of Michigan held the best car soirees and top dog street races-on top of it all, a life of their own.
What happens when two polar opposite racers collide; the best one from detroit, and one all the way from the city of angels?
I didn't get enough sleep last night, and the only thing that's kept me awake was the soft sound coming from the espresso machine and the small chit-chats from the customers—all fucking day.
Most people found comfort in music or talking for hours. For me, it was the rhythmic clank of mugs and the scent of freshly brewed coffee. This had been my routine every weekday, working eight hours per shift, opening and preparing the cafe at 6:30 am and closing it at 7.
It was calming, simple. In a world where adrenaline and speed fueled most of my nights, the café offered a much-needed contrast. Chaeryeong, my best friend, who also happens to be the owner, had left hours ago, trusting me to close up as usual.
The clock on the wall ticked 6:45 p.m, almost time to wrap things up. Another slow day, but that was fine. Don't get me wrong though, Chaeryeong pays well, but ever since the last cashier girl stole some money in the safe, she decided I'd work alone for now. So the fewer people I had to deal with, the better. I wasn't exactly here for the customers. They came in, day after day, with their lame attempts at flirting.
"What's your number?"
"Wanna grab a drink after your shift?"
"I heard you're single, babe."
and I'd love to stay one, thanks.
I'd lost count of how many times I'd turned them down, the words slipping out of my mouth without a second thought. There was always someone new who thought they had a chance, but they never got far. Not with me, at least.
I swept the last of the tables, my eyes darting to the darkening street outside. I had somewhere to be tonight—a place far more exhilarating than this quiet little corner of Detroit. The race was set, and I couldn't afford to be late. Even if my sister told me I was the last one on the race list, I wanted to be ready.
I walked behind the counter, ready to kill the lights, when the door swung open. The bell chime above the entrance jingled, irritatingly loud in the silence.
Are you fucking kidding me?
A girl walked in, head down, a cap pulled low over her face. She didn't look up as she made a beeline for the counter.
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"We're closing," I said, trying not to sound as annoyed as I felt. I pointed at the 'closed' sign on the door but she didn't care at all.
She ignored me, still heading straight for me like she didn't give a damn. "Hot latte, please."
I frowned, leaning on the counter. "I said, we're closing." I emphasized.
She finally looked up, eyes boring with mine. She had a face that would've stopped anyone else in their tracks—her features striking yet...delicate. The kind of look that told me she was used to getting what she wanted. Her lips quirked up in a half-smile, and something about that made my mood worse.
