Chapter 3 – Part 1: Race Day Begins
Morning mist clung to the ground as the sun rose behind the hills, casting golden light over the small provincial karting circuit. It was Coasta Fernandez's first tournament race day—the real beginning of everything. The stands were slowly filling with parents, spectators, and local reporters. Flags fluttered gently. The scent of breakfast barbecue from nearby vendors mixed with the sharp tang of fuel in the paddock.
Coasta stood in front of his red and black kart—#5—as Julian double-checked every bolt and cable.
"This isn't practice anymore," Julian said without looking up. "Don't worry about winning. Just show them how you drive."
"I'm not worried," Coasta answered plainly, adjusting his gloves. He looked calm, but deep down, his heart was pounding.
From a distance, cameras began flashing—media crews capturing the youngest entrants in the field. Someone pointed at Coasta.
"Is that the kid who topped Quali A?"
"That's Fernandez's boy. Heard he's homeschooled just to train."
He ignored them.
Driver's Briefing
All drivers were gathered near the control tower. A senior marshal stood atop a plastic platform, megaphone in hand.
"This is the structure for the day: Three groups. Top 15 from Qualifying advanced to two semi-final heats. Top 5 from each heat move to the final race. The rest? Eliminated. No reruns, no second chances."
The younger kids whispered nervously. A few wiped sweat from their faces.
Coasta stood silently near Hiroshi and Miguel. Angelo Reyes, kart #27, leaned against the fence nearby, arms folded.
The announcer continued, "Ten laps per heat. Final race: Twelve laps. Remember the rules. No blocking. No contact. Any dangerous maneuver and you're disqualified. That includes bumping in corners."
Someone raised a hand. "What about tire changes?"
The official shook his head. "You're on what you brought. No swaps."
Back at the Pit Tent
Julian kneeled next to Coasta's kart. "Keep it simple. Don't burn your tires in the first three laps. Find your rhythm, then go for it. If you're behind someone, don't panic. Look for their weakness."
Lucas handed Coasta a bottle of water. "Don't forget to breathe. Last year, I held my breath for an entire lap in my first final."
Javier chuckled, "Yeah, then nearly fainted after."
Their mother sat quietly beside Samantha, watching from under an umbrella. Samantha looked up and gave Coasta a sleepy smile.
"Kuya… win."
He knelt briefly, tapping her forehead with his finger. "I'll try."
Engines Roaring
The first semi-final was starting. Coasta was in Heat 1, front row, pole position. Ten drivers lined up behind him. Helmets on. Marshals waved. The track buzzed with nervous energy.
Inside his helmet, Coasta breathed deep.
No more simulations. No more quiet laps. This is real.
This is where legends begin.
The lights flashed red—
One… Two… Three…