The abandoned lot buzzed like a weekend party disguised as a competition. Music thumped from someone's car speaker, people placed small bets with overconfidence, and the smell of burnt rubber mixed perfectly with roasted beef from a vendor who clearly did not care about legality.
Three cars lined up for the next race, and beside the silver coupe stood a slim figure checking her side mirror with the calmness of someone tying shoelaces, not preparing to outspeed two grown adults.
She tightened her gloves, rolled her shoulders, and exhaled like she had done this a thousand times.
Because she had.
"Hey, Mira, you ready"
She smirked without looking up. "I was born ready. They are the ones taking forever."
The engine purred under her fingers, smooth and alive. Her gloves tightened, hands ready. Every part of her body was calm, focused, ready.
The referee raised a hand. "All racers, engines on."
Mira tapped the wheel gently, feeling the familiar vibrations beneath her fingers. The asphalt hummed through her seat. She knew this course better than anyone.
Three. Two. One. Go.
The cars shot forward. Tires squealed. Engines roared. Mira shot ahead, hugging the first curve perfectly. But the other racers were close. Too close.
The red car in the middle swerved suddenly, cutting her off. Mira barely adjusted, tapping the brake, then leaning into the drift to stay ahead. The crowd gasped. That was no accident.
The silver car on her left tried to squeeze her off the lane, nudging her wheel aggressively. Mira's pulse spiked. One wrong move and the car could spin. She countered instantly, steering just enough to avoid collision, feeling the tires scream in protest.
"Cheaters," she muttered under her breath, a grin tugging at her lips. Perfect. That's what made it fun.
The racers pressed harder. Mira leaned into every curve, anticipating their moves. The red car tried another cut, nudging her slightly from behind. Mira shifted just enough, balancing the throttle and steering perfectly, keeping the car on the inside line.
The finish line came into view. The red car made one final desperate attempt to push her off. Mira anticipated it instantly, moving smoothly to the side, letting her momentum carry her forward, and crossed the line just ahead. First place.
The crowd erupted. Spectators yelled, some cheering, some groaning at lost bets. Mira stepped out of the car, chest heaving, gloves still tight on her fingers. She looked at the other racers. Their faces were a mix of frustration and grudging respect.
"You think running me off will help you?" she said calmly. "Try again next week."
They muttered under their breath, glaring. Mira didn't care. She had won. She had stayed alive, stayed ahead, stayed perfect.
Mira leaned against the hood of her silver coupe, chest still heaving, gloves tight in her hands. She let the adrenaline settle, feeling the hum of the engine in her fingers.
A tall, dark-skinned man approached, muscles visible under his t-shirt, tapering into jeans. He stopped beside her, hand brushing lightly against hers.
"You crushed it," he said.
"Thanks," she replied, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear.
He leaned down, kissed her briefly, then stepped back. "I told you, first place. Always."
She smirked, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Yeah. It's just a race."
Before she could relax, a man stepped forward from the edge of the crowd. Slim, confident, his presence calm but deliberate.
"Hi. Great moves out there," he said.
Her boyfriend tensed immediately, stepping slightly in front of her. "Who are you?"
"I'm Billy," the man said, watching her closely. "Think you can handle real pressure?"
Mira blinked, uncertain. "I…what do you mean?"
Billy didn't answer immediately. He just held out a hand. "I have a job. Can you handle it?"
Kris narrowed his eyes, moving closer. "We're not interested. Don't waste our time."
Mira hesitated, glancing between the two men. Her brow furrowed. "Wait…why me? I don't even know you."
Billy stepped closer, calm, deliberate. "I know you."
Mira frowned. "Excuse me?"
"You're Mirabel Stilinski," he said, eyes locked on hers. "Twenty-four. You live at 1427 Central Avenue. You had two brothers—one dead, the other convicted for murder. Your mother is an addict. Your father left. You're basically alone."
Her stomach tightened. "How…how do you know that?"
Before she could finish, Kris stepped in, placing himself slightly in front of her. "Oh, so you're a stalker? That's what this is?"
Billy's gaze flicked to him. "Who are you again?"
"Kris. Her boyfriend," he said, jaw tight. Then he looked at Mira, incredulous. "Didn't you see that too? While stalking her?"
Mira grabbed his arm gently, stopping him. "Kris…let's hear him out."
Kris hesitated, frowning, but stepped back slightly. Mira's eyes never left Billy.
"I'm not here to scare you," Billy said evenly. "I'm here to offer you something. Cash, opportunity, a chance to actually use your skills. I know you can handle it. That's why I came."
Mira shook her head slowly, uncertainty written all over her face. "And I just…trust you because…you know everything about me? That's not comforting."
Billy shrugged lightly. "You don't have to trust me yet. I'm just telling you the facts. You survived everything life threw at you. You're precise, smart, capable. That's why you're here."
Kris crossed his arms, glaring. "She doesn't need your money. Walk away."
Mira hesitated, glancing between the two men. Her mind raced, weighing every word. Why him? Why now? What's the catch?
Billy's voice cut through the silence. "I'm offering you a job. Real money. Real stakes. You drive, you make decisions, you get results. You're good, but this is bigger than any race you've ever run."
She chewed her lip, eyes narrowing. "And if I say no?"
"You walk away," Billy said simply. "But this opportunity doesn't come twice."
Kris stepped closer again, tension in every line of his body. "Mira, seriously. We don't even know him. Don't do this."
Kris stepped closer again, tension in every line of his body. "Mira, seriously. We don't even know him. Don't do this."
Mira grabbed his arm gently, pulling him a few steps to the side, keeping her voice low. "Kris…listen. I know it sounds insane, but think about it. This isn't just some random offer. This could be an opportunity, something bigger than races, bigger than what we've been doing. We could innovate, push boundaries, actually make what we do matter. And I can handle it. I know I can."
Kris frowned, arms crossed. "Innovation? You're talking about illegal stuff. Risking everything we have."
"I know," she said, holding his gaze. "But staying the same isn't safe either. We're skilled. We know what we're capable of. This…this could actually put us ahead instead of just surviving week to week."
He hesitated, conflicted. "And you're sure about this?"
She nodded slowly. "I'm not saying yes yet. I'm just saying it's worth listening."
They turned back toward Billy. Mira stepped forward, eyes locked on him. "Alright. We'll listen. But I want to make one thing clear, this isn't just about me."
Kris's jaw tightened. "Yeah. I'm part of this too. If she's in, I'm in. You understand that, right?"
Kris's jaw tightened. "Yeah. I'm part of this too. If she's in, I'm in. You understand that, right?"
Billy's eyes flicked between them, calm, assessing. "I understand," he said slowly. "But here's the thing. I don't need two drivers."
Mira's brow lifted. "Then why are you even saying that?"
Billy smirked faintly. "Because you left me no choice. But I'm sure we can work something out for you."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a slim, black card, sliding it across the hood toward them. "Call me when you're ready. I'll be in touch."
Mira glanced at Kris. He looked conflicted, torn between caution and curiosity. She nodded slightly. "We'll think about it."
Billy gave them a final look, unreadable. "Good. Don't take too long. Opportunities like this…they don't wait."
With that, he stepped back, blending into the edge of the crowd again, leaving Mira and Kris standing by the car, the night suddenly feeling heavier, full of possibilities, and danger.
Kris finally exhaled. "This…this isn't just a race anymore, is it?"
Mira shook her head slowly, still staring at the card in her hand. "No. It's…something bigger."