Chapter 25: Still In The Slow Lane

A sensual mauve shade smoked her lids, accented by a horizon of long, dark lashes. Her eyes stayed low— submissive in nature to the world around her. Glossed lips remained pursed in a slight down-curve. Her smile was absent as she waited, listening to her newest role-model parked a few meters away.

Arriving merely minutes ago, the gold-colored Bentley stood tall on his axles, asserting his fashionable dominance in the room. Melise spent some minutes trying to pick up aspects of his persona from his appearance after he took his free time to keep his distance from her, despite his very arrival being for her. Reyna was no longer a normal in the studio. Her groomed and shiny bumper was back in the comfy confines of her office, ready to assist Mister Turo. The CEO had arranged for this new car to be her mentor, her trainer... her friend.

Before Melise could prepare her thoughts, the Bentley quickly made his way to her, his front blank expressioned as he stared Melise over. His hazel eyes stopped on her front, gazing at her though the mirror.

"You're Miss R? Melise?" his mature, and gravel voice came.

She blinked her heavy eyes, nodding.

"Jonah-Dawn. Just call me Jonah." he said, giving her a questionable smile. "Word around here is that you're stiffer than a stop sign."

"How do I fix this?" Melise asked, catching Jonah off-guard. Her expression remained neutral as his extrepolation seemingly went over her hood.

He reversed towards the cat-cruise entrance. "Let's see how bad it is first."

Melise felt the surge of coolant through her circuits as she realized she would have to embarrass herself yet again. The cat-cruise was one of the last places she felt confident.

Her fancy tires crushed natural elements along the floor as she rolled with all her strength towards the cruise way. The quiet crunches underneath her hefty promo tires annoyed her more than she ever thought they could. Her expression was as calm as an empty raceway as she looked beyond the looming spectators ready to pick and pry at her flaws once again, this time sure to find more.

Once the upbeat tunes began to play, Melise breathed a sigh, biting her bottom lip as she put on a face of determination. Her wheels donning the IGNTR neon ring pulled her frail frame along the cruise-way as she presented her expressionless elegance.

Melise's doe eyes scanned the surrounding in its usual haze under the high beamed spotlights. She could only see a few feet in front of her as if she were navigating in fog, it made the fear of slipping to close to call.

"Ah, she is beautiful in those rims," Melise could hear among the unison chatter and flickering.

"They even match her coat of polish!" another spectator mused.

"STOP!" Jonah shouted suddenly. Melise braked, whilst the music paused abruptly, leaving a silence in the spacious studio.

"That was terrible." Jonah continued, making his way up the stage. "You rolled like a dirty race car. Are you a dirty race car!?"

Melise felt a ping in her system. Her fenders become rosier as Jonah waited for her answer.

"No..."

"No, you are NOT a dirty race car, and THIS," his tire emphasized the room, "is not a dirty race track!"

"We need to get some serious work done. Have some pride when you roll." Jonah accelerated past her to the beginning of the cruise-way. Melise hung her hood in shame as she watched from heavy eyes.

"You cruise with elegance, indifference and confidence." The gold Bentley rolled across the way with an expressionless face, higher suspension, and ignorance of the cars around him, braking quickly at the edge of the way, and leaning his cab away from the cameras to show off his rims.

"THAT is how you model. Not... THAT," he pointed his tires at Melise in accusation. The convertible said nothing, but kept her expression determined and listening.

"From the top," Jonah shouted, shooing a confused Melise back to the front of the cruise-way.

"We are going to get this right even if I run out of gas!"

Melise kept her composure, her eyes struggling to keep open with the weight of makeup upon makeup. Her axles were getting sore, but she ignored the heavy tires and pushed along. If this was her opportunity, she was going to give her best try.

The music was loud when it played again, causing the small crowd to jump. The volume didn't startle Melise, her circuits were still reeling from her trainer's harsh words of advice.

With a deep breath, Melise stood tall on her axles, a blank expression with half-closed lids and gentle lips. She rolled forward, onto the cruise-way, this time, a different car than she was before.

Passing by, Melise could see the atmosphere around her change, the cars saw a different girl too. Melise paid little attention to them— easier said than done, as Jonah-Dawn instructed. She was the center of attention, like a fancy car on the boulevard... like a racer revving his engine to his fans.

That was it, that was her moment. Melise could feel the realization bursting into her engine. Abruptly, she braked, her dry expression resorting back to its usual starry eyed stare.

This was not a cruise-way, it was a speedway. The spectators were racing fans instead of fashion gurus. The loud trance music— V8 engines zipping by the pit lane. Melise was an oil runner again, and she was cool, calm and collected. Just go with the flow.

And Jonah-Dawn's front glowed with amazement. His reproachful expression of impatience was replaced with a wide white smile that shimmered with his gold paint. Seeing her cab relax in the atmosphere of crazed photographers— the deep rose paintjob accenting her newfound elegance over the silly, cutesy aura she carried around her. But Jonah's eyes were focussed on one key feature— something he had never thought would be captivating, it was the sudden sprought of innocence shining naturally from her eyes.

"That is greatness!" he exclaimed. Melise turned, facing Jonah head-on. Her blank stare soon became a shy smile to the ground.

The team crowded around to acknowledge the shots and coordination through a small digital display, analyzing Melise's every move, crank and brake. Ignoring the convertible on stage, Melise reversed slowly till she felt the curtain of backstage brush against her bumper, over her roof and hood till she was concealed in solitary. They seemed satisfied, her work was done.

Melise's eyes trained on her foreign reflection in the mirror. Her eyes widened in surprise to see large splotches of peachy paint, vibrant and youthful, peeking through the smeared rose-gold paint job given to her. She stared back, silent and calculating as she caught sight of a familiar grey autograph on her right fender.

The domineering tone of Mister Jonah-Dawn arriving in the room, gave Melise little time to react.

"The shots were great, you were great, elegant and dole, just the way I like my models!" He mused, extrapolating his words with relaxed closed lids. "IGNTR will be pleased to have—"

Melise presented him with a gentle and nervous smile. She was almost certain Jonah was going to be upset to see her paint smudged, her makeup smeared. His expression remained in awe.

"Were you trying to wipe away your beauty?" He asked, genuine confusion in his tone. Melise's expression became innocent perplexed to the strange comment.

"No, I was just—" she began, reversing on the heavy tires. Her words seemed to trail off as she was left in utter confusion.

"This paint," Jonah began, staring her up and down incredulously, "This paint was chosen by us here at Element Sleek Rims for you! It's your new image, a better version of Miss Ruunes!" his tone echoed in confines of the space.

Melise could feel embarrassment heating up her hood. She briefly glanced at the girl in the mirror as the Bentley continued his rambling. Her peachy paint that once shone brightly in the pitlane as she would smile, surrounded by oil and asphalt— covered in ugly splotches of paint that made her feel like a discount Motorama girl.

"And what is that? Did you get your paint chipped away!?" Jonah accused, pointing his tire at her right fender. Melise, bit her bottom lip, using her tire to wipe away the rest of the dark paint, revealing her nearly forgotten prized possession.

"It's a signature, from Jackson Storm," a sweet and gentle smile slowly crossed her lips as she just remembered it, all this time, hidden away from her sight, "when I was an—"

"Who!?" Jonah's grille crinkled in indifference and annoyance at her sudden change of emotion. "You need to focus on getting even better, and stop smudging your paint! It's unprofessional!"

Melise closed her eyes as his voice seemed to shake the room. Despite her fear, she didn't feel a tear weld up in her eyes. When she opened them, she saw her mentor being calmed down by another crew member.

"I need someone to bring me coolant!" Jonah hollered, dismissing his team-member's hushing.

Melise watched as Jonah was escorted out of the studio as his gold paint shimmered under the glare of flood lights. The small audience outside had to be stunned based on their silence. Melise was glad she was at least unseen by them. She was alone again, and that feeling was becoming too comfortable in this studio.

Her heart was thumping rapidly as she took a deep breath, sinking on her axles to the cold ground. Melise was exhausted, sticky, and unsure of what time of day it was.

He told her to 'Stay Peachy'. She read his print under her headlight. The memory came back like it was only yesterday when she was under a gazebo outside of the fancy Wheelsworth Inn.

Never in her life did she think he would actually follow her. He was quick— no surprise, and— Melise couldn't believe she was saying it, but charming.

Jackson Storm wasn't a prince-charming kind of car, or what many might say prince charming was. He had an image to maintain amongst the media following him. Maybe she was seeing things differently even when he gave her his time yet again at the airport... she had to thank him somehow that time around. But he didn't have to be kind that night in the garden. He didn't have to give her his time, he didn't have to tell her 'Stay Peachy'.

There was no doubt he had a 'ominous' atmosphere about him. Melise could remember her first days cruising with Shannon as she taped coupons to the IGNTR logo, and the trailer itself when it arrived. No one seemed to take Jackson seriously, and Melise on the other hand, went out of her way to give him a warm welcome. His sleek livery black paint decaled with 2.0 and deep blue neon was like a brand new game plan to the entirety of racing. When his engine revved, and his concentrated grey eyes looked at her, she felt smaller. His voice was confident and cool, like a guy who knew his way. Articulate and... handsome.

Melise bit her bottom lip. She couldn't believe what her thoughts were telling her.

It was one thing to watch him on the track, and another to have him right in front of her. Seeing the almighty racer her grandfather and others glorified with his large racing tires, and stoic stare looking her over.

He wasn't scary, just very bold and resilient appearing. When he spoke to her, he kept the same reserved cool nature he had with the Racing Network's meddling cameras. The calm way he spoke, like the entire world was boring, but she was somehow a tree of fruits in it. It warmed her engine more than she realized.

She couldn't understand him. Didn't a race car like him have more important things to do than sign the fender of a Honda? Or even talk to her... no one ever really talked to her.

Her glossy eyes took in the reality around her. She would never see Jackson again. Not in his fame growing world. After what she caused, his embarrassment and her headlight, she was lucky to even get the chance to apologize.

Maybe everyone else didn't see it, but he seemed lost, she knew that feeling all too well... it lead her right to where she was now, covered in a dark paintjob that took away her true carefree nature. He didn't need anyone to distract him now, they all told her so.

Melise was just glad she got the chance to nuzzle the guy who was willing to share his time with her, to give her words of advice in a simple autograph, even if it meant missing his own championship party. Jackson Storm wasn't a bad guy...

A steady and faint tapping coated the floor beside her. Melise opened her eyes to a watery blur. She hadn't realized her emotions got the best of her again as tears streamed down her hood and fenders, dripping on the floor and washing away more paint.

She glanced at the heavy tires resembling Storm's in the mirror. The weight of them made her axles numb.

How would he feel about all of this? A model for IGNTR's newest tires? Invading his life again? She put herself in reverse and pulled out of the studio building, into the darkness of night.

Melise was lost, digging for content wherever she went, and if fate gave her this opportunity, she was going to try her best. Her happiness mattered just like his wins did. She just wasn't so sure this was worth the grief.

Once her headlights flickered on, she merged to the far-right lane, moving slow and steadily home.