Fighting to Live

Intro

Tuning out the crowd around me, I focus on the road ahead of me. I map out the path, imaging each turn ahead.

They attempt to mix up the 'tracks' every race, in order to keep it fair and to keep the cops unaware of where our races will be. But, in reality, there are only so many streets in this city.

Luckily, this happens to be one of my favorite routes. Not that I need luck though. I twist my wrist, causing the engine under me start to rumble, waiting for the signal to go.

The female standing, scantily dressed, between my opponent and me dropped her hands to her side. At this signal, I release my clutch and twist the throttle harder. I pull my toe up against the shifter, going through gears. Buildings start to slip past me one by one while I rush through the wind.

This is what I live for, this feeling that I'm flying and that this huge weight has been lifted off my chest. Almost as if there has been an elephant sitting on me, and he has now decided to get up. The fresh night air hitting me makes me feel more alive than anything else. I smile under my helmet and lean into the first left turn.

Turn after turn, I go through the motions. Weaving in and out of traffic, I am in my own bubble, nothing else exists. This is why I'm surprised to find that I've reached the finished line.

Disappointed, I put my bike into neutral for a second and look around me. My surroundings settling back into place. Unmoving and boring. The crowd was already going wild when my opponent pulled in behind me almost forty seconds later.

He puts his bike on its kickstand while throwing his helmet on the ground in anger. But unlike him, I won't be sticking around to try and pick up groupies.

I take the stack of cash from the referee and put it in my jacket pocket. I step on the shifter, pushing into first gear, and roll into the night.

A/N: Hello and welcome to my new story. This is something that I've recently started working on and I'm pretty excited about it!