"Lightning McQueen, the youngest and most mysterious racer ever to race in the piston cup track rises as winner once again. Nothing is known about the rookie except his name, many theories and rumors about McQueen have been told but still he remains a mystery."

"Oh he's such a hero, in fact he's my idol!" "He's my idol too! He's so fearless and cool!"

"He's just a cocky, arrogant kid who's luck will run out eventually. I swear when that happens I'll prove that I'm the real winner!"

"A few competitors such as Chick Hicks seem to hold some resentment towards McQueen, we'll have to see who's the best on the tracks with the next race upcoming in California where-"

Lightning shut off the T.V. and groaned with annoyance, today was supposed to be a relaxing day to just kick back and loosen up on the couch. Still, it was hard with all these news reports about her, and her manager kept calling to tell her about what sponsors wanted to set up contracts with her. Then again, she shouldn't be watching the news anyways, she didn't even like watching the news. Maybe it was the small twinge of satisfaction she got from seeing just how popular she got. This left her grinning with joy and satisfaction, suddenly her smile faltered and became a frown.

She wasn't popular, she wasn't well-known and idolized. Lightning McQueen is. Lightning McQueen is the one they all know, the one they all see not her. She sighed, she shouldn't resent him, after all she is him. Her eyes flickered towards her large bay window to gaze at the sunset, it had barely begun to set. The sky was a canvas with many different strokes of purples and pinks splattered across, her lips curled into deeper frown with disgust written across her face.

Her life is flawless, it's what everybody wanted and strives to live for. A large mansion with a gorgeous view of the ocean and sky, more money than she could spend with her being a millionaire and all and she's still earning more with each race she wins, she even has the fame as the youngest rookie as her official title. What was missing? What more could she possibly want?

A harsh voice she knew all to well whispered into her ears, it's cold words echoed into the silence. "What about a family? Real friends? What about love?" She flinched as if she had been slapped. She may as well have been.

It was true, she had none of those. Her eyes dulled and the colors of the setting sun looked faded to her now, she couldn't stand it. Her eyes were torn away and she slowly walked to her bedroom. She paused as she opened the door, a large spacious bedroom that was well furnished and very neat. Her bed was a large king size all for herself.

The silence left her ears ringing, there was no sound except for the light footsteps she took until she dropped heavily into her bed, hoping it would eat her up and she would never be heard from again.

But it didn't, she is still here alone in her home. Of course she would be lonely? Who wouldn't? She glared up at the wall, liars are the lonely ones. And she was one of the biggest liars around.

Lightning became a liar the day she left home at sixteen years old, she was angry and spiteful at her controlling parents. So she left, and she wandered the streets of L.A. wondering if she was going to survive to see the next day. That is until she came upon a flyer to test the skills of young people to see if they had it to become racers of the popular piston cup track.

It was a godsend and she instantly and easily beat all the other competitors of small time races and she rose up higher and higher until she made it, only she hadn't. Her persona did. The fake part of her. McQueen.

She knew they wouldn't go for a woman racing, this was considered a man's race and the only way she was going to make it was to pretend for her part. And McQueen was then created.

Her hair is a pixie cut with dirty blonde locks and bangs that often get in her eyes, she has a small and soft smile that rests on her face when her mask is set into place and a cute button nose, her eyes are cobalt with flecks of bice blue, cream colored skin with light freckles splashed across her cheeks, height wise she's petite and a small body form which makes her very short compared to the rest of her competitors. Outside in the public she always wears her deep red and white racing jacket along with baggy jeans. To keep people from staring at her chest and finding out her secret she binds it with a custom made binder specially made to hide.

This is how she looked to everyone. But no one is here to see her real self. No one is here to witness the tears rolling down her cheeks and hear her sobs of sorrow. She cries for the life she really wanted, not the life she has. She'd give it all up to have someone understand. To care and love her, a family and friends, even a lover, all she wants is someone to hold her now and dry her tears.

Bitterly she remembers her parents, they never gave her any love. In fact they could hardly stand each other and herself. They constantly set up impossible bars she could barely succeed. No matter how much she tried it was never enough in their eyes. They wanted perfection out of her, and she is far from perfect. She snapped under her pressure and left, screaming at her mother for never trying with her. She fought with her father before she sprinted away and slammed the front door behind her for the last time, and she has never seen them since then.

She let herself break down and cry until she slept, in the morning she would wipe her face of tears and clean herself up, while building up her mask again until the next time it cracks.

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This is the first story of 'Pretender' and a remake of the introduction chapter and yes I do have permission from the original author who allowed me to adopt this story. Don't own Cars, hope you enjoyed and until next time.