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Tommy was being chased.
That won't be a problem though, he's a fast runner anyways. What would be a problem though is that the people chasing him are also fast runners.
And ever since day one, they have already been pestering Tommy. Telling him that he doesn’t have a chance in the racing industry.
"Get away from me!" he yells, panting on the middle of the street.
"Why should we?" one of those bitches say.
"Because- because..."
Tommy didn't know what to say to make them Ieave him alone.
But then, across the street stood his pink haired saviour.
"Because," Tommy says slowly. "he's my brother!" he points at the pinkette.
"What?" one of the other men gasps. "The Blade is your what now?"
The Blade had always made himself a name as one of the best racers in the country. Maybe, at some point, Tommy idolised him. And now he's going to have to use him to escape from those awful bullies.
"My brother. Yep, you heard me right," Tommy smirks arrogantly.
"How are we supposed to believe you?" the bullies' leader scoffs. "Go on, approach him."
Tommy swallows his fake arrogance down until his throat goes dry. "I- uhm. You know what? Fine."
Shit.
What has he done?
Now he can't undo this.
He walks slowly to the Blade, anxiety on an all time high.
"Hey," Tommy calls out nervously. "My man!"
"What?" the older racer asks, confused
Awkward. All of this is fucking awkward.
"Dad says you're going to drive me home tonight," Tommy says, panicking.
He tries his best to have a silent conversation with the pinkette, his eyes practically crying for help.
Tommy glances quickly at the group of bullies and back at the Blade.
Hopefully he'll understand what Tommy is trying to tell him.
"Oh, yeah. I almost forgot about that," the Blade smiles at him, standing up from the bench.
Tommy's tense thoughts suddenly calmed down.
"See, I told you, idiots," Tommy beams at them.
“I suppose you guys are- uh…my brother’s-” the Blade cuts off, side-eyeing the blond.
“Tommy,” the younger racer whispers.
“I suppose you guys are Tommy’s friends,” the Blade continues.
One of them clears their throat egotistically. “Yes, we are.”
The Blade glances at Tommy, waiting for some sort of verification. Instead, the blond shakes his head lightly.
They were not the kid’s friends.
“I’m sure you’re very busy people, I don’t want to keep you waiting. Me and Tommy are going home anyways,” the Blade gives them a fake smile.
“Thank you, sir,” the leader bows his head slightly. "We'll let you off just this once. You got lucky this time,'' he snickers at Tommy underneath his breath as he ushers his friends away.
Tommy sees them disappear round the corner, as he lets out a shaky exhale.
"So, uh," the Blade starts saying, the fake smile disappearing from his face completely. "who were those people?"
Tommy lets out a tiny hiccup, realising how much explaining he has to do now. "I'm so sorry for that, sir. It's just that I needed a quick excuse for those assholes to leave me alone."
“Call me Techno,” the racer says. “Why would they bother you?”
“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out for the last four years. They’re from the opposing team,” Tommy shakes his head.
“Team?” the Blade- Techno apparently, said.
“Oh right, I’m a racer, a race car driver, actually, ” Tommy says sheepishly. “I’m a pretty big fan of yours,” he adds quietly.
“Really? Do you want an autograph or something?” Techno asks jokingly.
“I mean, you saving me from those bullies was already enough,” Tommy shrugs. “But if you insist…” he continues, failing to hide his enthusiasm.
Techno tuts at him in disbelief. “Where do I sign?”
Tommy looks at the ground with flushed cheeks, pointing at a red car seen in the distance.
The pinkette walks towards the race car while Tommy follows him meekly.
“I have a marker inside of the car,” Tommy informs.
“You have a marker inside of your car?” Techno looks at him, wide-eyed.
“Oh, you would not want to see the actual inside of the car,” Tommy shakes his head tentatively.
“Why not?” Techno asks.
“I unfortunately,” Tommy goes to the opposite side of the car, opening the door so that the mess inside would be blocked from view. “cannot tell you why.” he hands him the marker.
“You want me to sign on your car?” Techno questions.
Tommy nods his head slowly, pointing at the door to the driver’s seat.
Techno sighs. “Alright.”
He proceeds to write on the door with thin black cursive letters.
"Are you a cardiologist?" Tommy asks, bewildered.
Techno snorts. "A what now?"
"You know, those people who make fancy letters using their pen," Tommy explains.
“You mean a calligrapher?” Techno corrects with a laugh.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever that is,” Tommy grimaces, cheeks turning red once more.
A few moments of uncomfortable silence later, he decides to speak again.
“So I’ll be going now,” Tommy gives the pinkette a wobbly smile. “It was nice meeting you, even this way.” he opens the car, getting in to start it.
“Wait, kid-” Techno cuts off with the sound of the car starting.
Tommy rolls down his windows. “Yeah?”
“Do you have a personal mentor aside from your team’s coach?” he asks.
“No, not really,” Tommy shakes his head.
“Then perhaps I could offer you uh…free training lessons,” Techno says hesitantly.
Fuck.
Fuck.
“Me? Free training lessons? From you?” Tommy gasps, mouth hanging open.
“I mean, if you don’t want to-”
“Fuck yeah!” Tommy cheers.
Techno beams at him “Meet me again here tomorrow. Same time. We’ll see how it goes.”
And the man walks off, leaving Tommy in the excited mess he was.
From then, Techno started training Tommy every day.
But if he wasn’t feeling like it, the older racer would be the one to take him on long drives in his own car instead.
“It would be really great to be drinking a milkshake or some shit right now,” Tommy suggests.
“You’re gonna get carsick,” Techno points out.
“Me getting carsick? I’m a fucking racer!” Tommy scoffs.
“Still, I’d rather you drink hot cocoa than a milkshake” Techno deadpans.
Tommy makes a ‘tsk’ sound, crossing his arms as he looks outside the window.
The annoyance from his face disappears as he gazes at the outside.
It was evening already, but the stars lit up the sky like how a lamp post lights up a street.
“Hey, Techno?” Tommy calls out.
“Yes, Tommy?” the pinkette replies, still driving.
“Have you ever been stargazing?” he asks.
“Never in my life,” Techno shakes his head.
“Let’s pull up for a second,” Tommy says.
“What? Why?” Techno questions.
“Just trust me,” Tommy smiles.
Techno pulls on the breaks, unlocking the car’s doors.
Tommy leaves first, dragging him outside and onto the large patch of grass just beside the highway.
There, Tommy sits on the ledge parting the field from the road. Techno follows right after.
“I want to race to the stars,” the blond says.
“Not when you already are one.”
“Hey, dumbass!” someone yells at Tommy.
“Ugh, not again,” Tommy groans quietly.
“I heard you’re getting trained by someone new, huh?” the leader raises his eyebrow, shoving Tommy back.
“I am, what are you gonna do about it?” Tommy breathes out, annoyed.
“You never give up with your petty comebacks, don’t you?” he rolls his eyes. “C’mon, tell me who it is.”
“What the fuck would I gain from telling you?” Tommy scowls.
“The question is, what would you not gain?” the bully smirks at him, evilly. “So tell me who’s the new moron that’s training you.”
“Me. I’m the new ‘moron’ that’s training him,” a new voice comes into the scene.
“Techno?” Tommy exclaims. He sees the pinkette walking towards them. At first glance, he’d seem intimidating, but as Tommy got to know him, the man is the kind of person who’d adopt a street cat if it walked on his porch on a random afternoon. And that was enough said.
“”What’s going on here?” the older racer asks, pulling Tommy beside him.
“This bitchass won’t stop pissing me off. I’m on my final straw,” the bully explains.
“You’ve gotten more confident these days. Last time I saw you, you were cowering like an idiot because you found out he’s my brother,” Tommy ridicules.
“Drop the act, Thomas. Your what? We all know you’ve been faking it all along.”
Tommy’s heart dropped.
Techno decides to step in. “Stay away from him nonetheless.”
‘Stay away from him nonetheless’ those words would echo in Tommy’s brain until his dying day. How the hell did he go from a lonely broke teen to the loud (and handsome!) student of his number one idol?
Anyhow, fucking score, dude.
"Why did you decide to train me anyways?" Tommy nudges at the group of bullies walking away, murmuring to each other. Don't those guys look like they have more potential?"
"Nah, they look like jerks," Techno replies.
Tommy cackles. "They really are."
"But in all seriousness, I decided to train you because the moment I saw you, I saw that determined look in your eye," Techno explains. "Don't you want to leave, Tommy?" he continues.
"Leave what?" the blond asks, confused.
"Leave your team," Techno answers. "I could move you to a different team, one where you don't need to interact with those jerks."
"Have I ever told you this was my brother's team? Why would I ever want to leave?" Tommy smiles.
"You have a brother?" Techno questions.
"Had. I had a brother. Until he went missing," Tommy tells him. "His name was Wilbur."
Techno felt his throat close up.
Was that why Tommy looked a lot like Wilbur? Was that why Tommy reminded him so much of his old best friend?
"Wilbur was your brother?"
"You knew Wilbur?" Tommy asks.
"Not just knew. We were best friends," Techno says.
"That asshole never told me about you," Tommy scoffs. "Not that he tells me about anything, really," he adds, quieter this time.
Swinging his legs on the bench where he first met Techno, Tommy felt himself get pulled into a tight hug.
"But he told me about you and how fond he was of you. Every time he talked about you, he smiled brightly," Techno says, remembering his friend's stories about his 'little gremlin brother'.
"I miss him," Tommy says, sniffing into the pinkette's shoulder.
"I know," he nods in understanding, stroking the younger boy's blond hair. "I do too."
"Never forget what I taught you, kid," Techno pats him on the shoulder.
"I'll win this, I'm sure of it," Tommy proclaims confidently.
"You will," Techno reassures.
The blond waves at him, entering his car which was parked a few meters from the starting line.
"I can do this," Tommy whispers to himself. "I've done this so many times before."
But why was he nervous?
"Good luck, bitch boy," the leader of the bullies yells from his car. "You'll need it," he smirks.
"What the fuck do you mean by that?" Tommy scrunches up his nose.
"Oh, you'll see," his smirk grows even wider, even more evil.
Tommy opens his mouth to speak but was cut off by the referee yelling.
"3, 2, 1, go!"
Tommy steps on the accelerator. He zooms past the starting line, hair flying from the sudden gust of wind.
As always, he was ahead of his opponents.
For some reason, what the bully said to him gave him a bad feeling in his gut. The twists and turns of the road made that feeling churn into something even more horrible.
But alas, he shakes that feeling off, seeing another sharp turn in hindsight.
And right there, after another turn and below the slightly elevated land, was the finish line.
His opponents were far, far behind him.
Unnecessarily far. Unnaturally far.
He should stop over thinking.
Tommy turns the steering wheel towards the right.
Why isn't it turning?
Why the fuck is it not turning?
Brakes.
Tommy steps on the brakes.
And the car doesn't slow down.
Why wasn't the car slowing down?
He feels around for the hand brakes. With sweaty shaking hands, he pulls on them.
Why wouldn't it budge? Why is it stuck?
Why does the car keep going forward?
He crosses the barrier dividing the racing track from the field. Up ahead, there was a huge rock set on the ground.
"Please, please, please," Tommy keeps pulling on the hand brakes, feeling warm tears fall down his cheeks. "I don't want to die, I don't want to die like this."
"Not like this," he sobs, watching the gigantic rock come closer and closer into his view.
But he couldn't do anything.
Should he jump out of his car? He really didn't want to see his car get smashed into pieces. But what else could he do? He doesn't want his bones to be smashed into pieces either.
Tommy takes a deep breath and unlocks his car.
Except it doesn't unlock.
"Fuck," Tommy bangs his hand on the steering wheel. "Fuck!"
"Tommy!" he hears someone yell from the distance. "Leave the car!"
He looks behind him. "I can't!" he shouts back. "I'm sorry."
When he turned back around, it was too late.
"You're the only number in his contact list."
"I am?" Techno asks.
But what really did he expect from his late student?
"I guess I am."
"Would you like his damaged car scrapped?" the lady says.
"I'd keep the salvageable parts," he replies.
"Alright," the lady nods, leaving the counter.
Techno walks back and sits on a chair, sighing heavily.
"You should have listened to me," he whispers, pulling out his phone to stare at the picture of him and Tommy in a car. "You should've listened to me when I said that you should have left that team."
"Techno?" someone says.
He turns around, only to face a man with dark brown curls almost covering his face.
"...Wilbur?" the pinkette manages to croak out.
"Is it true? Is my brother really dead?" the brunette says, voice strained.
Techno didn't know whether to feel sympathy or anger towards the man before him.
"Your brother," he forces a broken laugh. "The brother you abandoned?"
"I..." Wilbur trails off, having no excuses.
"He went through hell when you weren't there," Techno informs coldly.
Wilbur gulps in shame.
"I went through hell when you weren't there," he follows.
"I'm sorry," Wilbur apologises.
'I'm sorry'. Those were Tommy's last words to him. But Techno shuts the memory out.
"Sorry is not enough."
He glares at the brunette one last time before he tosses him a car key.
Tommy's car key.
Techno turns from him and walks away, never turning back.