Disclaimer: I forgot to put one in the first chapter, so my bad. Anyway, any car manufacturers or names I did not create. The names of different rival groups or racers I did not create either unless I list them in my bio. And now here's my story.
It must have been somewhere around two o'clock in the morning, and I was sitting at my car, just staring at the dash board. It wasn't as if the car itself had just given me a total shock of amazement and excitement which would render me helplessly. Sitting in the car made me realize how much I had given up, not too mention how much more I could have gained. My past memories of racing just gave me a sense of non satisfaction to the point that I realized when I quit; I really wasn't finished with racing. What I had done was created an exile...an exile that wanted to return, but was looking for the ok. Looking for the key.
I was so deep in a state of trance, that the when I heard the buzzard in my apartment, I jumped and hit my head on the ceiling of the car. While walking towards the door and holding my head, I talked through the intercom. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Rick," and I pushed the button to let him come in. Rick was no only a racer in a group called Unlimited, but he was also a close friend of mine. The first time I met him was in a bar in downtown Tokyo, when me and some people from my job were celebrating someone's birthday. Rick was a calm, collected type person. There's never been any time where I've seen him lose his temper.
After he had made his way up the stairs, I opened the door and asked him something, "So what brings you here at two in the morning?"
"What does it matter? You and I both know that you weren't sleeping, seeing as how you answered the door way too fast."
"But still, it's two in the morning. What if someone was over?" Rick then let out a huge sigh.
"Listen, we both know you don't have a girlfriend, and you're not married. The only life you have now is your job, and when we go to the bar. And the last time we went to the bar was when, April."
"Alright...so two months of no bar. Anyway, I'm gonna go fix some coffee. You want anything?"
"I'll take a cup," I then headed towards the kitchen and started reaching in cabinets and drawers. "Listen, I know how you want to go back to racing."
"That's interesting; now tell me something I don't know."
"That's exactly why I came over."
"At two in the morning?"
"Ok! So I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by."
"At two in the morning?"
"Are you gonna let me finish or not?" I then shut up, and continued to make the coffee. "Things aren't as easy as they used to be. The 13 Devils aren't the supreme rulers of the highway anymore."
"That doesn't sound like it's that bad."
"That's because you didn't hear this part. There are thirty bosses now. And the head guy, you know, the boss of everything, it's not Speed King anymore. The new ruler is a guy who goes by the name Tyrant."
While walking over to Rick with two cups of coffee, I tried to collect my thoughts on what I was going to say. "Wait a minute. Thirty new bosses don't just..." he then cut me off.
"No. It's not thirty new bosses. How do I want to explain this...alright. The 13 Devils are still a boss group, only they don't have Speed King. There are three different boss groups that rule the highways. The 13 Devils are the lowest ranking group. Followed by them is a group called Mutiny. They have twelve racers, including Speed King. He's the leader of that group. Then the highest ranking group is called Tyrant's Armada. I'm pretty sure you can figure out who's in charge of that one."
"If that was as confusing as I think it was. But anyway, it's seems pretty awkward because it sounds like what you are telling me is some guy just walked in and took over just like that. And that sounds impossible, because I've never seen anything in my life travel faster than Speed King's car."
"Well one of the neighboring cities had highway problems. Cops were keeping too close of a watch on the highways. Racers got arrested almost every night. So the leader from that city came to Tokyo and talked to Speed King, only Speed King didn't know where to place him and his other ruling group members. So Speed King and the guy raced. A lot of people said ten seconds into the race, Speed King couldn't see the guy's rear bumper anymore."
"You do know these people have actual names right?"
"Well these are easier to remember. So after the race, they settled that since that guy's car was way more powerful than Speed King's, that he should be the soul ruler of Tokyo Highways. Five of his followers got placed into the Mutiny group, along with six other very powerful racers native to Tokyo. The guys other four followers, who are almost as hard to beat as him, got placed into the group Tyrant's Armada. And ever since, that's the way it's been."
"How much more confusing can you possibly make this?"
"You'll grow to understand it over time. And your coffee sucks."
"It's," and again he interrupted me.
"I know it's two in the morning."
"Actually I was going to say that the coffee's been here for about a year now."
"Oh, well that'll explain it. But still, after all of these changes. Plus there are about seventy new racers added to Tokyo, do you honestly think you want to return to racing?"
"Why is it so bad that I wanna return to racing?"
"Because you've already proven that you have the skill. That you possess the ability to defeat the one person who supposedly shouldn't be able to be defeated. It's almost as if you defied the laws of highway racing."
"Maybe I don't want to prove anything. Maybe I just want to go back to racing. Like you said, I don't have too much of a life right now," right then, Rick was staring at my palms.
"Let me see your hands."
"What's wrong with my hands?"
"Nothing just let me see them."
"You have two of your own. Look at those."
"Do you have something to hide?"
"I don't have anything to hide."
"Then let me see them," and I reluctantly put out my hands. He flipped both of them palm side up. "I know you're not suicidal, and besides those aren't cut marks. You've been clinching the wheel of your car haven't you?"
"It's not like its law saying I can't. Besides, who else doesn't?"
"But you've been clinching it too hard, too long."
"I guess you have a point."
"You're right I have a point. And maybe you're right."
"Right about what?"
"Maybe you should go back to racing."
"I don't know. I think I should, and at the same time, I feel like I shouldn't."
"Well what do you have to lose?" I couldn't help but thinking that I had a lot to lose, when the reality of the fact was that I honestly had nothing to lose but money if I lost a race. I had already lost my reputation, I had lost my life, and now I was losing a grip on the real world. There would be nights where I would go to sleep in my bed, and walk up in my car. I knew and could agree though I didn't have anything to lose.
"When should I start?"
"Whenever you feel would be best for you I guess. You could start tomorrow night if you truly felt you wanted to."
"I guess I'll start sometime this week."
"Sounds like a plan of some sort. Well, I'm out of here. I think I've overstayed my visit. Besides, I gotta stop by a bar and drink something to get rid of the taste of your moldy coffee."
"I'll keep that in my mind when you want something." Rick got up and started walking towards the door, and then he stopped and turned around.
"Before I forget, the real reason why I came over was tell you something. Well, more like give you something," he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small folded sheet of paper. "This Speed King's number. He said he wanted to meet you in person and talk to your for a minute. I'd give him a call tomorrow through out the day, because nine times out of ten, he's probably still racing."
"Thanks," I then closed the door behind Rick as he left. Even after meeting with Rick, talking to him, and what he told me, I still felt the compulsive urge to walk back to the car and do nothing but think. Only at that point, I knew that if I was honestly going to return to racing, I had to drop the past. I knew it would be a thorn in my side, and it wouldn't allow me to stay sharp and focused.
While scratching my head, I just sat down on the sofa, and started watching TV. I knew I had to go sleep, and if anything, that would be the only thing to keep my mind pre-occupied, but I just felt as if the TV was more relaxing. It was so relaxing, that I ended up lying down on the couch and falling asleep anyway.
The next morning I woke up groggy, and tired. I also woke up late for work, and just ended up calling in sick. I started to reach for the remote to turn the TV off, and I noticed the sheet of paper Rick had given to me last night. If anything I knew that that phone number was my ticket to finally making me ready to go back to racing on the highways.
I had the key, and was standing right in front of the gate. If I was ready, without mass hesitation, I would turn the key. And that's exactly what I did.
It must have been somewhere around two o'clock in the morning, and I was sitting at my car, just staring at the dash board. It wasn't as if the car itself had just given me a total shock of amazement and excitement which would render me helplessly. Sitting in the car made me realize how much I had given up, not too mention how much more I could have gained. My past memories of racing just gave me a sense of non satisfaction to the point that I realized when I quit; I really wasn't finished with racing. What I had done was created an exile...an exile that wanted to return, but was looking for the ok. Looking for the key.
I was so deep in a state of trance, that the when I heard the buzzard in my apartment, I jumped and hit my head on the ceiling of the car. While walking towards the door and holding my head, I talked through the intercom. "Who is it?"
"It's me, Rick," and I pushed the button to let him come in. Rick was no only a racer in a group called Unlimited, but he was also a close friend of mine. The first time I met him was in a bar in downtown Tokyo, when me and some people from my job were celebrating someone's birthday. Rick was a calm, collected type person. There's never been any time where I've seen him lose his temper.
After he had made his way up the stairs, I opened the door and asked him something, "So what brings you here at two in the morning?"
"What does it matter? You and I both know that you weren't sleeping, seeing as how you answered the door way too fast."
"But still, it's two in the morning. What if someone was over?" Rick then let out a huge sigh.
"Listen, we both know you don't have a girlfriend, and you're not married. The only life you have now is your job, and when we go to the bar. And the last time we went to the bar was when, April."
"Alright...so two months of no bar. Anyway, I'm gonna go fix some coffee. You want anything?"
"I'll take a cup," I then headed towards the kitchen and started reaching in cabinets and drawers. "Listen, I know how you want to go back to racing."
"That's interesting; now tell me something I don't know."
"That's exactly why I came over."
"At two in the morning?"
"Ok! So I was in the neighborhood and I thought I'd stop by."
"At two in the morning?"
"Are you gonna let me finish or not?" I then shut up, and continued to make the coffee. "Things aren't as easy as they used to be. The 13 Devils aren't the supreme rulers of the highway anymore."
"That doesn't sound like it's that bad."
"That's because you didn't hear this part. There are thirty bosses now. And the head guy, you know, the boss of everything, it's not Speed King anymore. The new ruler is a guy who goes by the name Tyrant."
While walking over to Rick with two cups of coffee, I tried to collect my thoughts on what I was going to say. "Wait a minute. Thirty new bosses don't just..." he then cut me off.
"No. It's not thirty new bosses. How do I want to explain this...alright. The 13 Devils are still a boss group, only they don't have Speed King. There are three different boss groups that rule the highways. The 13 Devils are the lowest ranking group. Followed by them is a group called Mutiny. They have twelve racers, including Speed King. He's the leader of that group. Then the highest ranking group is called Tyrant's Armada. I'm pretty sure you can figure out who's in charge of that one."
"If that was as confusing as I think it was. But anyway, it's seems pretty awkward because it sounds like what you are telling me is some guy just walked in and took over just like that. And that sounds impossible, because I've never seen anything in my life travel faster than Speed King's car."
"Well one of the neighboring cities had highway problems. Cops were keeping too close of a watch on the highways. Racers got arrested almost every night. So the leader from that city came to Tokyo and talked to Speed King, only Speed King didn't know where to place him and his other ruling group members. So Speed King and the guy raced. A lot of people said ten seconds into the race, Speed King couldn't see the guy's rear bumper anymore."
"You do know these people have actual names right?"
"Well these are easier to remember. So after the race, they settled that since that guy's car was way more powerful than Speed King's, that he should be the soul ruler of Tokyo Highways. Five of his followers got placed into the Mutiny group, along with six other very powerful racers native to Tokyo. The guys other four followers, who are almost as hard to beat as him, got placed into the group Tyrant's Armada. And ever since, that's the way it's been."
"How much more confusing can you possibly make this?"
"You'll grow to understand it over time. And your coffee sucks."
"It's," and again he interrupted me.
"I know it's two in the morning."
"Actually I was going to say that the coffee's been here for about a year now."
"Oh, well that'll explain it. But still, after all of these changes. Plus there are about seventy new racers added to Tokyo, do you honestly think you want to return to racing?"
"Why is it so bad that I wanna return to racing?"
"Because you've already proven that you have the skill. That you possess the ability to defeat the one person who supposedly shouldn't be able to be defeated. It's almost as if you defied the laws of highway racing."
"Maybe I don't want to prove anything. Maybe I just want to go back to racing. Like you said, I don't have too much of a life right now," right then, Rick was staring at my palms.
"Let me see your hands."
"What's wrong with my hands?"
"Nothing just let me see them."
"You have two of your own. Look at those."
"Do you have something to hide?"
"I don't have anything to hide."
"Then let me see them," and I reluctantly put out my hands. He flipped both of them palm side up. "I know you're not suicidal, and besides those aren't cut marks. You've been clinching the wheel of your car haven't you?"
"It's not like its law saying I can't. Besides, who else doesn't?"
"But you've been clinching it too hard, too long."
"I guess you have a point."
"You're right I have a point. And maybe you're right."
"Right about what?"
"Maybe you should go back to racing."
"I don't know. I think I should, and at the same time, I feel like I shouldn't."
"Well what do you have to lose?" I couldn't help but thinking that I had a lot to lose, when the reality of the fact was that I honestly had nothing to lose but money if I lost a race. I had already lost my reputation, I had lost my life, and now I was losing a grip on the real world. There would be nights where I would go to sleep in my bed, and walk up in my car. I knew and could agree though I didn't have anything to lose.
"When should I start?"
"Whenever you feel would be best for you I guess. You could start tomorrow night if you truly felt you wanted to."
"I guess I'll start sometime this week."
"Sounds like a plan of some sort. Well, I'm out of here. I think I've overstayed my visit. Besides, I gotta stop by a bar and drink something to get rid of the taste of your moldy coffee."
"I'll keep that in my mind when you want something." Rick got up and started walking towards the door, and then he stopped and turned around.
"Before I forget, the real reason why I came over was tell you something. Well, more like give you something," he reached in his pocket and pulled out a small folded sheet of paper. "This Speed King's number. He said he wanted to meet you in person and talk to your for a minute. I'd give him a call tomorrow through out the day, because nine times out of ten, he's probably still racing."
"Thanks," I then closed the door behind Rick as he left. Even after meeting with Rick, talking to him, and what he told me, I still felt the compulsive urge to walk back to the car and do nothing but think. Only at that point, I knew that if I was honestly going to return to racing, I had to drop the past. I knew it would be a thorn in my side, and it wouldn't allow me to stay sharp and focused.
While scratching my head, I just sat down on the sofa, and started watching TV. I knew I had to go sleep, and if anything, that would be the only thing to keep my mind pre-occupied, but I just felt as if the TV was more relaxing. It was so relaxing, that I ended up lying down on the couch and falling asleep anyway.
The next morning I woke up groggy, and tired. I also woke up late for work, and just ended up calling in sick. I started to reach for the remote to turn the TV off, and I noticed the sheet of paper Rick had given to me last night. If anything I knew that that phone number was my ticket to finally making me ready to go back to racing on the highways.
I had the key, and was standing right in front of the gate. If I was ready, without mass hesitation, I would turn the key. And that's exactly what I did.