HE WAS FLYING.
Or at least that's what he told himself.
The gushing of the wind in his ears drowned out the world as he knew it. They were all too loud, too jittery, too chaotic. This was his reprieve.
The red dragon beneath him rumbled in response, the familiar sound humming through his veins and blending into white noise.
This was where he belonged. Out on the race track in his Ferrari, the world watching him with every falling breath. He was their shooting star, a tornado at its ugliest, a mere streak of crimson on the gravel.
He was powerful. He was in control.
The dragonmaster shifted the gearstick up a notch, grinning when he imagined what the crowd's disjointed cheers would sound like.
The clock was ticking but surely the arms of time were not fast enough. He was a devil on the race track and he knew it. Sometimes he was convinced that if if he drove fast enough, he could escape the clutches of time altogether- perhaps even the skeletons of his past.
He'd been wrong.
Racing wasn't flying. Racing was soaring without fear of falling to certain death. It was feeling the beads of sweat trickling beneath his helmet and becoming adrenaline itself. It was a second instinct, a euphoric high and a sense of belonging. Greedy arms of crisp air grabbing at his hair and whirling against his ears. Senses on alert, mind at its sharpest despite the world blurring before his eyes. Racing was every inch of him at its best battling the worst possibilities.
Before he knew it, it was over and everything was too loud once more. There were eyes everywhere scrutinizing his every move and passionate fans shrieking his name.
"First place!" They screamed, "He's done it once again!"
He resisted the urge to smirk. He didn't have to see his timing to tell them that. He'd been unbeaten for a while now. No surprise there. They just hadn't realised sooner.
He truly was a star.
Reporters preyed on him like hawks and flashing cameras blinded him as he emerged. The television loved him and his charm.
Undoubtedly, he was gorgeous with his dark Hispanic features- curled ebony hair, golden skin and pink lips- but the attention he got from thousands of women would never faze him. There was only one wicked beauty that he had his eyes set on and for years, it had only been her.
Tonight, he would ask her to marry him.
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YOU ARE READING
Phoenix
Action"The clock was ticking but surely the arms of time were not fast enough." • Phoenix Kirby loves racing and racing undoubtedly loves him back. But when the gorgeous daredevil's racing career comes to a painful end in a gruesome accident on live tele...
