=One Week Later=
[=Bayview International Airport | 12:19AM=]
"The Bayview International Airport and our staff welcome you to enjoy your stay. Thank you for choosing our airlines."
A robotic voice greeted the party of three - Brian, Roman, and Suki. With his thumb, Brian scooped the jet lag out of his eye and trudged further into the airport lobby, dragging his fatigue with him. Sure, his luggage was heavy, but the drowsiness he felt seemed to weigh a couple of tons more.
"Damn, Suki, why the hell is this so heavy?" Roman grumbled as he fought to secure her bag, as well as his own, onto his shoulders. "What'chu snuck Tej's goofy ass in here or somethin'?"
Not much helped to cure Brian's jet lag, not even the playful banter between Roman and Suki in his ear. That all changed when something snagged Brian's attention. A giant wall of glass formed the face of the airport lobby, stretching all the way from one side of the building to the other. Through the glass, Brian could get a glimpse of the massive cityscape that peeked through. That jet lag from before? Yeah, that was up and gone in just a few seconds.
A rush of adrenaline shot through Brian once he stepped up to the base of the glass wall, out the sliding entrance door, and into the Bayview air. Right by Brian's side, Suki, and Roman also took a moment to take in the city's presentation - Buildings with unconventional, almost utopian like designs. All under the blanket of a crimson sky. To cut to the chase, it was just a straight up gorgeous city!
Up on the mountains, "B-A-Y-V-I-E-W," spelled out in big bold letters, akin to the Hollywood sign in Los Angeles. Skyscrapers crowned with colorful lights to match the city's energy. Two skylights reached out to pierce the clouds. And the icing on the cake? - They could already hear the song of high revving engines singing through the streets.
"Man," Suki started, "It's one thing to hear about this place. But in person? Daaamn…"
She was right. And Brian let her know with a mutual smile. Something about this place felt like home already. A vibration tickled the front pocket in Brian's GReddy shirt. He flipped out his blue Motorola Razr and was pleased to see the text on his SMS - "Outside. Ready when you are."
"That's the cavalry, right?" Asked Suki, peeking across his shoulder at the screen.
"Yeah."
"Good, 'cause no way I'm hikin' to Rachel's place with all this stuff."
"Girl, who you tellin'?" Roman shifted the weight of one bag to the other, lest he make an ass of himself and fall on said ass.
Brian let his phone snap shut with a satisfying *snap* and got ready to meet their three teammates./
There was this roaring sound ripping through the walls of the airport parking hall, amplified by the spacious echoes. Every time the roar phased out, there seemed to be a screech that sounded like tires begging to be put out of their misery. With his luggage Brian narrowed his eyes through the hazy orange glow from the carport lamps, trying to get a better focus on the source of the noise. Now with a better view, Brian could see that it was a '69 Dodge Charger whipping up donuts with not a shred of care given to people trying to get to their cars. At the tail end of the last donut, the Charger seemed to have locked on to the group with its dim headlamps, and sped toward them.
"Whoa, whoa…" Roman offered his defense and spread his arms in front of Brian and Suki from the Charger speeding towards them.
It juddered to a stop just shy of their thighs, blowing wind across their clothes. The muffled rock'n'roll from the interior cleared up as the woman inside rolled down the window. Nothing screamed more "old-school" than the fact that she had to roll the window by hand. Then again, it looked she was a pro at it by not even breaking a sweat as her shoulder rocked up and down against the door panel. Once the cabin was open, a gust of smoke, courtesy of her cigarette, rushed into their curious faces.
Roman coughed and shielded his mouth with his bicep. "C'mon, now! Like a damn circus with all the smoke up in there!"
"Ah, it ain't gonna kill you," came the snarky response from the driver.
With the smoke all cleared up, the three of them could see up close the woman known as 'Angie.' More so known for her enthusiasm for American muscle. Even though Suki wouldn't be caught dead in anything besides an import tuner, she knew about Angie and appreciated her for her grit. It was tough enough being a woman into cars. But a woman into rough and tough muscle cars, competing with macho gearheads that were often toxic? It took guts.
"Angie? 21st Street, right?" Greeted Suki, with a fist above the window seal.
Angie returned the fist bump and gave a half-assed smirk. "In the flesh."
Suki gave a smirk of her own, fully fledged and anything but lazy. Her smile beamed at the driver that looked either just too tired or too bored to care about Suki's admiration. "That's what's up, girl! It's so dope to meet you in person. You're an inspiration, for sure."
"Inspiration, huh?" Angie chuckled, flicked that cigarette out of the window, and spit on the ground.
Angie didn't respond to Suki's compliment, and no one could tell if the rude gesture was supposed to be some form of thanks or not. She seemed unpredictable and erratic, similar to how violently the chassis of her car shook as it sat in idle. A couple of sparks illuminated the abundant black mascara on her eyes; it came from the lighter she used to fire up another cigarette! Again, either intentionally rude or just straight-up oblivious, she took a drag and blew the smoke out her window, right towards them.
"So, we just gonna screw around with our thumbs up our asses? Or are we gonna get a move on?" Angie leaned a little further out of her window seal and looked the three of them up and down. "C'mon. Who's ridin' with me? How 'bout you, beefcake?"
The mild flirt was directed towards Roman, who seemed to have perked up a little bit, given the smirk he gave to Brian. Then again, this was Roman. And damn near any attention from a woman had him perked for sure.
Roman gave Brian a wink and nudged his shoulder. "First dibs, homie."
It's not like Angie was a knockout, but she seemed to scratch a sort of itch that teetered between hot rod pin-up girl and abusive ex-girlfriend, if you're into that sort of thing. In Brian's case? Yeah, nope. He wasn't. So he shrugged off the tease, and eyeballed the Mazda that sat parked across from them. Roman watched Brian veer off towards it, then returned his attention to the big muscle car in front of him.
"Man, this ooold school right here. What'chu know 'bout American muscle, girl?"
Angie chuckled at Roman's taunt as he plopped himself inside, and tossed the luggage on the backseat. "Buckle up tight, and I'll show you a thing or two 'bout what I know. Might put a couple of hairs on your chest." Angie threw a tease back, slapping her hand across Rome's bare chest, thanks to his open shirt or "blouse" as Brian liked to call it.
Suki smiled at their banter and looked over to Brian who was drooling over the green RX-7 that commanded attention with it's massive wide body kit and kanji vinyl that dressed across the majority of the car.
Out of the car came a young Japanese man that many drift aficionados knew as 'Kenji.' "Ah. The Bullitt from the East," Kenji greeted as he stepped out of his car and met Brian halfway with a handshake. "Nice to put a face to the name."
"'Bullitt from the East'? Man, don't tell me that's what they're calling me now."
Kenji smirked. "Not exactly, just a name that came to mind. I'm showing my appreciation. Good to know Rachel hired a driver with reputable skill."
"'Preciate the compliment. You're no joke either. I've heard about what you can do with that drift missile behind you. You gotta show me some tricks when we get downtime."
"Done deal. And you're welcome to take a closer look. Please, go 'head. She's not shy one bit," Kenji insisted, holding out his hand toward his car.
"Yeah, I'm gonna have to shotgun your rotary," beamed Brian, tossing his bag into the back of the Mazda.
Suki watched the two men carry on chatting about cars. For most car guys, they always seemed to speak the same language. So even by being complete strangers, as long as you were on the same wavelength, you were good to go. Suki hoped that it would be the case with the last car, an Aston Martin DB9, that sat parked purposely away from everyone else. It had better be, especially since she had no choice but to get along with this last mystery driver. Of course she was small, but she still didn't feel like cramping herself in the notoriously small backseats of the RX-7. And as for that Charger? She wasn't a fan of being tossed to the side in a giant metal box that probably didn't even have seatbelts. So, the Aston Martin it was.
Its custom marengo and white paint job must've cost half as much as the car, thanks to all the fine metallic speckles in the pigment. A fair amount of the body was custom as well, most notably the added bits of chrome that twinkled under the carport dome lights. The cherry on top was the ridiculously blinged out rims that couldn't gleam any brighter even if you drowned them in Black Magic. Right at the side of the driver door stood a tall, handsome man with a chiseled chin, and long trench coat. Maybe one of those guys that you'd find in a country club. And not just any country club. The ones where they'd shoot you for getting just a bit too close to the campus in your dad's Oldsmobile.
This man known as 'Wolf', turned around just in time to receive Suki walking up to him. He folded one leather-clad hand over the other and propped his nose upwards, analyzing her as he did so. He wasn't a fan of her crop top or her studded jeans. But she got a pass for being cute. This was Suki after all. Everyone and their grandma thought she was cute.
Wolf proceeded to lower his gaze with an approving nod. "Hm. So, I see you're the smart one."
Suki's eyebrows pinched together. "Come again?"
"Just calling it how I see it," shrugged Wolf. "You chose my car. The only genuine car present at this time."
Suki snickered, cocked her hips at his arrogance, and tossed her head back towards the Charger and RX-7. "I dunno, man, those cars back there got a lotta attitude. They're doin' somethin' right to get noticed. Don't hate."
Wolf sneered. "You don't have to lie on their behalf. Who's gonna say no to twenty-one inch Löwenhart LC1's?" His open palm pointed toward the rims, all proper and polite as if he was a salesman. Poor Suki had to fight tooth and nail not to laugh in this guy's face. Even so, Wolf continued, his back perfectly straight as he insisted on his first observation of her. "Like I said. You're smart. And… easy on the eyes…"
So, he was a flirt too? And not too bad at it, despite being a bit cringe in other departments. But Tej would screw up his other leg, using it to kick Wolf's ass if Suki entertained the advance. So she ignored it and reached for the passenger door handle instead.
"Alright, let's get this over with," she muttered under her giggles. Together, the both of them hopped in the luxury coupe and wasted no time speeding toward the parking lot exit.
Brian watched from Kenji's passenger seat as the DB9 flew by. "Nice detailing on that Aston Martin. Who was that?"
"No one important. Just Wolf. Leader of the TFK. It's a famous gang of luxury car dorks that think they have the best taste in style. Buckle up. I'm gonna catch him."
Just like he promised, Kenji sped off in pursuit of Wolf who was already merging onto the highway.
Angie smirked when she saw Kenji speed off. "Looks like we got ourselves a race. Time to put those two little boys to bed."
"Easy, now, lemme throw this seat belt on real qui-WHOA!" Without mercy, she floored the car, sending an unsecure Roman crashing against the door panel.
Angie swung her car into a drift to merge along the highway, and the weight shifted to the other side of the car, now sending Roman toppling over to Angie's side and knocking into her arm. "Ergh! For shit's sake can you please stay on your side of the fuckin' car?!"
"Keep this bitch straight and maybe I could!"
It didn't help that her '69 Charger was a torque monster and ate asphalt for breakfast and whatever was leftover. Since they were on a highway, it was only a matter of seconds before Angie caught up to Wolf and Kenji.
Brian was taking in the sweet sound of that whirring rotary until it was interrupted by the deep grumble of a HEMI. "Huh? Could've sworn we had at least a five second head start on them."
"That's Angie's Charger for you. It's built like a drag car, which means that it can't even turn into a drive-thru. It doesn't help that she can't drive to save her life. She's a poor excuse for a street racer and a pain in my ass. Both of them," grumbled Kenji, referring to Angie and Wolf both. "And I'm about to remind them who's the best. Hang tight."
Kenji took a deep breath and positioned his thumb over a green button on his center console. Brian looked out the window to see Roman flipping him off in Angie's car, his bird teasing over the roof.
It made Brian crack up just a bit. "Even in somebody else's wheels, you'll still find a way to show off. Stupid ass..."
Brian felt a massive jolt and in just a second, Angie's Charger was left in the dust, and Wolf's car was an arm's reach away.
Wolf eyeballed his rearview mirror and scoffed. "So. They wanna race? Hmph. Idiots." Wolf took his gloved hands off the wheel for a second to crack his knuckles. Once he was comfortable, he put those fingers on the paddle shifters to get serious. Brian, of course, was looking forward to the race in good faith. He always looked forward to a race.
All of it was perfect.
Just a little too perfect…
Brian had a sixth sense for the street, like his DNA was in every grain of asphalt around him. It was enough to know that something was a bit off.
Something was approaching.
He saw it when the wind shifted, and his gaze locked onto a set of lights in the distance.
Traffic cars? Not likely. Their movements were a little too sporadic. Normal pedestrian traffic didn't suddenly veer into the oncoming lane and raise their speed. Then the tip of Brian's left ear tickled a bit. There were other modded engines approaching behind them. What was going on?
"Whoa, hold up, Kenji," Brian warned, throwing his eyes over on Kenji's shift knob.
There was an instinctual urge to downshift the car himself, but he was reminded that he was still the passenger here. The others saw it too, especially with Wolf being the first to put on his brakes, lest someone scrape his precious clear coat. The modded cars from behind the team sped past, and teetered close to their sides, urging the group to slow down even faster.
"What the hell?!" Angie slammed on her brakes as hard as she could, but the weight of the classic muscle car kept them moving, screeching all the way until her front bumper barely made contact with the tailpipes of the unwelcome guests.
Then the oncoming lights broke off to the left, some to the right, but all of them forming a ring around Angie, Wolf, and Kenji. A small crowd of people came seemingly out of nowhere to show their support for the surprise show that caught the three drivers on their toes.
"Aye, man, what the hell is this?!" Shouted Roman.
One car. No, make that two. Add another. Three cars sped by rockin' the big bad "Eastsiders" text; adorned with the text were depictions of a Fenrir, Wyvern, and Phoenix, exclusive to each car.
Suki noted the bold black and white text on the side of the cars. "Shit. It's the Eastsiders." A dreadful sigh escaped her throat. She knew exactly what this stop meant. Everybody knew the Eastsiders, the most popular street racing crew in North America, headquartered right here in Bayview. "Looks like we picked the wrong night for a joyride," she groaned.
Last but not least was the leader... an orange Skyline.
Yeah. That orange Skyline, depicted by a roaring Griffin on its side.
The three "lesser" Eastsiders cars joined in the drift train that surrounded the foreign drivers. A few people from the crowd tossed themselves up on the trunks of the drifting cars, not giving a care if their feet got squashed by the shredding tires that nipped at their Shelltoes. To them, having a skid mark from the Eastsiders on your body was a badge of honor. The rest of the mobsters skipped up closer to Kenji, Angie, and Wolf's cars, sizing the drivers and their passengers up like certified gangsters.
Was this surprise concert some kind of joke?
Brian cracked his neck as he stepped out. Time to find out.
Finally, the drift train stopped so that the ten or so cars could trap them in a ring of colored metal.
Out of the lead car came cocky smirks beaming from a couple that radiated the utmost confidence - Eddie and Melissa. The infamous street racing duo strutted around toward the bonnet of the R34, where Eddie leaned up against it and his girlfriend against him, wrapped up in his arms. The rest of Brian's crew stepped out of their rides. Neither member of the team were phased by the fanboys that got in their faces and tossed out insults.
Within the small crowd, there was Chad with his yellow Celica GT-S. Then Todd with a silver Lancer ES. And don't forget Kurt and his killer ride, a white RSX. All of them together, with their leader and his second-half, combined to make one intimidating group of racers that carried themselves more like thugs. Even the air seemed to shush itself into a whisper, breezing across one tense shoulder to another.
Finally, Eddie punched through the tension with his brash voice. "Welcome to Bayview!" Dropping his sarcasm, he threw his head to and fro at his posse and chuckled. "Is that what I'm supposed to say or somethin'?" A few chuckles from the crowd sprinkled through, probably to suck up to Eddie's performance.
Eddie glossed over Brian and crew's cars, as well as the anxious looks on their faces; from Suki's pinched eyebrows, to Wolf's curious head and arm dangling out his driver side window. "Man, get a load of these lames… seems like the rumors about Rachel whippin' up a dream team was true. Damn. I knew the bitch was desperate. But this is just… sad."
"Only thing that's 'sad' here is your garbage excuse for a crew, punk." This came from Kenji, who seemed more offended than anybody, especially with a pissed off look on his mug and his fists balled at his sides.
"Say what?! You wanna run that back?!" Shouted Chad.
Right behind him was Kurt hollering, "You might wanna check that mouth, kid!"
"Boys! Chill!" Eddie commanded. "Let the little man have his time in the spotlight," Eddie teased, referencing to Kenji's possible Napoleon complex.
Kenji didn't really have such a thing. He just never liked someone insisting that they were better than him. To Kenji, he himself was a god on wheels.
With his hands in his pockets, cool and collected, Brian flicked his head up toward Eddie. "How you doing, Eddie? Big fan."
Eddie didn't return the kindness. He kept silent with an unamused glare while his right-hand-girl did the talking.
"Everyone's a fan. Get in line." Melissa's arms were crossed and her gaze off toward somewhere else in the crowd, as if Brian and his company weren't even worth her direct attention.
Their egos were so inflated, just like Rachel promised, to the point where it was more cringe/corny than cool. Brian chuckled and continued, "Booke sent you here to run us off?"
"Booke? Him? Hell no. Yeah, it's true he hooks us up here and there, but you don't see him here now, do you?" Eddie playfully looked back and forth, pretending to look for his superior as he finished his threat. "Nope. He ain't here. It's us you should be worried about."
A playful quip from Roman eased the tension. "That's funny, 'cause from what I heard, y'all gots' to pucker up and smooch on Booke's ass just like everybody else in this town."
"Ah-haha!" Angie burst out an unapologetic laugh with a single clap to rub it in.
Melissa broke free of Eddie's arms and raised her voice. "Alright, y'know what, I've had enough of the disrespect! Who the hell do these posers think they are?! Don't they know who the FUCK we are?!"
"Easy eaaasy," Eddie's hand pulled Melissa back against his chest. A kiss found its way onto the back of her neck, soothing her, albeit for a moment. "Don't stress over no wannabees from outta town, babe. Just be cool." Eddie removed his kiss so he could give a teasing smile toward the group of foreign racers that stared daggers into him. "It's all good. You can be heroes if you really wanna. Just remember… when shit hits the fan, don't cry and whine about us not givin' you a heads up."
"'Means don't blame us for what happens if we catch you in the City Center again," Melissa finished, turning her back so she could strut towards the passenger door of her boyfriend's car. "Blame yourselves and Rachel Teller's petty little agenda."
One door slam later, and the Eastsiders and their mob threw out an angry cloud of smoke as they departed.
Yikes.
So much for a warm welcome.
[=Rachel's Garage | 12:52AM=]
Loud echoes from a hodge-podge of engines reverberated in Rachel's back alley. Mixing with the orange hue of the lit night sky, was a bright purple light that beamed from Rachel's garage door. Once everyone stepped out of the three cars, the garage door rolled open. Inside, the lead lady in question stood with her hips cocked in excitement at her hard work paying off.
As everyone walked over to her, she smirked and greeted them. "Mm. Look at you all… my crew. God, this feels good. I bet you're spent, huh? Let's get you inside."/
Now, finally inside Rachel's home, the group of six followed her deep into the cozy abode. They reached what appeared to once be a living room, but was now runamuck with boxes of shiny new chrome parts for cars.
Rachel turned around and held up her hands. "This is where the magic happens."
"'Magic,' huh? Where's our red carpet?" Roman joked. "You makin' us feel like we hollywood up in here with all this praise you givin' us."
Rachel returned the joke with a smile, came up to him and shook his hand. "Roman Pearce, right?"
"Yes ma'am," he answered with a smile of his own, a little too enthusiastic and on the verge of a flirt.
"My bad, Roman, y'see the red carpet will have to wait. You won't believe how busy I've been, so mind the mess."
Rachel then found Suki and made her way over to her as well.
"Get the fuck out!" Suki exclaimed with one hand of her mouth. She used the other hand to shake Rachel's. "Oh. My. Fucking. God. Rachel Teller? You are totally the shit! Y'know that, right?"
Rachel giggled. "...And you've... got quite a mouth."
Suki sheepishly looked away, blushing slightly. "Yeaaah, my bad."
"It's all good, don't apologize. I dig the attitude. Gonna need it for our crew."
"Yo, time out. Can I, like, just lose my shit over how cool it is to be in your crew? You're such a-"
"-Such an inspiration, yadda, yadda,-" came Angie, rudely interrupting them, "-I swear this girl never shuts up." She discarded a box of Alpine speakers that sat on top a chair, and placed herself in it. "Rachel, hun, you've got an air mattress or somethin' for me to crash on?"
"An air mattress, Angie? I'm not runnin' a five star hotel here, but I at least have spare beds for you all. C'mon, who do you think you're workin' for here?"
"For real? A'ight. Hook us up then." Said Roman.
"You got it. Follow me."
Per her instructions, they all followed her up a spiral staircase to the second floor of her home. On the way up, Rachel slowed her stride and looked back behind her to address the group. "By the way, I thought you'd all be here by midnight? What was the hold up?"
"We ran into your favorite person." Brian answered directly behind her.
"Who?"
"Y'know? Your other half? Your dark side…? The one I'm in love with?"
Picking up on their inside joke, Rachel chuckled as the image came to mind. "Ohhh, you mean Melissa? Pfft. Don't ever compare me to her. That girl and I are not even in the same league," Rachel commanded somewhere in between a stern and playful voice.
Brian couldn't tell if she was joking or being serious, but he took it for what it was. A part of him was just glad to be in Bayview and to see Rachel again. Though, he hadn't expected her to look so much more… "down to earth," for lack of better words. Rachel was in an uncharacteristically rustic outfit. Her hair was put into a ponytail. She wore old jeans that were probably reserved for handiwork, and a faint layer of sweat topped it all off. Though, Brian did appreciate the "behind the scenes" look at a more approachable Rachel that lacked the expensive clothing and makeup that made most men think twice about executing a cold approach.
"The rest of the Eastsiders were present as well," mentioned Wolf, speaking up with his prim and proper dialect that sounded so alien compared to literally everyone else. "Those idiots… you could see those eyesores they call 'cars' from a mile away."
Angie snickered. "You're one to talk. Like your car is any better, bought with daddy's money."
"Yes." Wolf responded confidently. "My British classic is better than cars designed to appeal to a couple of kids."
"Whatever floats your boat, Wolf. I'm just sayin'. Nothin' can match a HEMI."
"Then I truly feel sorry for you."
Now, at the end of the second floor hallway, Rachel turned around and addressed everyone's banter. "Nice to hear you all gettin' along. You'll need it, at least for the night. It's not much, but, it is a place to kick back until we can lock-in a place of business for our team. As much as I'd like to use my own garage, they're just isn't enough space for everybody here full time."
"It's cool, Rachel," Brian reassured her. He glanced behind him, toward the group, and continued. "I think I speak for everyone here when I say we appreciate you looking out for us. You got our backs. And that goes a long way."
Rachel paused to appreciate Brian's thanks, as well as his smile. "I appreciate you, Brian. And all of you, really. Can't describe how good it feels to see you all together. I wish I could give you all a proper welcome, but it's late. I'm tired. And I'm sure the rest of you are even worse off than me." Rachel pointed to the guest rooms in the hallway. "Bunk up for the night, and we'll talk basics and get to know each other in the morning. I'll have a nice breakfast for everyone ready too. My treat."
"Now that's that Hollywood treatment I was talkin' 'bout. I'm lookin' forward to it. Aye, get us some donuts too. Y'know, the ones with the jelly in the middle!"
"You're killin' me, Roman," chuckled Rachel. "Sure thing. I'll hook you up."
"Shut your greedy ass up, man," Brian laughed and finally dismissed himself and his bro from the group.
For his first night in Bayview, he imagined himself making his name known, perhaps even feared by the locals. But instead, Brian opted to close his eyes and dream about it instead. After all, it didn't take much effort for him to make his dreams a reality. And sooner or later, Rachel, his fellow racers, and all everyone else would come to find that out for themselves first hand…