speed limit [c.h]

prologue

THANK U SO MUCHG FOR THE COVER 90shalsey

prologue

"You're on, old man!"

Zeraphina grinned at her dad as he threw the car keys to her, running to her beautiful, indigo-colored P Chevrolet Camaro SS RM 10, her statement coming out confident and strong, "I'm going to beat you."

Her father chuckled, walking over to his sleek, shiny black P Acura NSX RM, "You honestly think you can beat the king of racing?"

"Stop talking, old man," Zeraphina grumbled playfully, swinging the door to the drivers' seat of her car open, "just 'cause ESPN crowned you the Best Racer of the century don't make you the best racer,"

Israel laughed at his daughter, his eyes twinkling in admiration and so much love, "It kind of does, actually."

"Yeah, well," Zeraphina huffed, still not entering her car as she crossed her arms stubbornly, "We'll see. I'll beat you today, and I am getting your car."

"You can try, Zeraphina," Her dad mocked, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He quickly sat inside the drivers seat before laughing loudly.

He loved his daughter, more than anything in the world. She meant everything to him. She meant more to him than racing did, and that was saying a lot. He was wrapped around her finger, and frankly, he didn't care. He loved her.

Zeraphina sat inside her car and started her engine. Israel started his after, the noise booming throughout the neighbourhood. This caused different people to step outside their balconies and front porches, eager to watch the daddy-daughter match.

This happened almost every friday night for a year. She and her dad always raced at the same time, with the same route, and the same cars. Every friday night. They'd raced in the same route so many times, they could race with their eyes closed.

Undeniably, her dad always won. He'd kept the reputation of undefeated champion for over 11 years, and Zeraphina wasn't going to change that no matter how much he loved her. He wasn't going to simply let her win; no, she had to learn to do things on her own, and earn her own credit.

Her daughter had inherited his love for racing, and from the looks of it, he didn't mind one bit.

"I can feel it, dad!" Zeraphina yelled at her father through the loud noise of their cars, a smug smile on her face, "I'm going to win this time!"

"I don't think so, princess!" Her dad only laughed, revving his own engine up before his playful demeanor was gone, replaced with a soft expression, "I love you to infinity!"

"I love you to infinity!"

It was a tradition they had before racing. Cheesy, corny, call it whatever you want, but it was. When Zeraphina was a little girl, she would always beg her dad if she could come with him to watch him race, and because he loved her so much, he always gave in. Just before every race, he would walk up to his daughter, who was sat at the side bench with her babysitter, and say "I love you to infinity." and she would say it back.

Israel meant everything to her daughter, and so did she. It was a beautiful bond; one so close it was unbreakable, for the only thing they had was each other.

And when Zeraphina had started racing with her father, it had become a habit that before every race, they would recite those five words to each other.

It had never occured to Zeraphina that maybe the reason they did that was because no one knew what could happen to them during the race until the incident.

She gripped the steering wheel tightly, adrenaline pumping through her veins, spreading throughout her body. She felt so fierce, and bold, and the sound of their cars sounded like music to her ears. This was her passion; this was her everything. She was never going to let go of it. Ever.

"Ready!" She heard her neighbour, Patrick, yell just like he did every friday night, and she grinned widely. He was a 24-year-old man with ginger red hair and a bulky belly, always seemed to smile and had more wrinkles than Zeraphina had toes.

"Set!" Zeraphina's foot hovered over the accelerator, her teeth gritting and she was more ready than ever. She saw infinity. Racing was her infinity. Racing made her feel infinite, and powerful. She was ready.

"GO!"

Everything seemed to slow down as she stepped on the accelerator at the same exact time Israel did, the both of them zooming past Patrick and into the road, under the dark night with only the dim street lights, the moon, and the stars to accompany them.

Zerphina started laughing out loud, her hair blowing all over her face, the wind sounding so melodic and then, at that moment, she felt unstoppable. She felt everything, all at once. She felt happiness, excitement, everything. She put her emotions into racing, and she felt incredible. She felt indestructable.

She was an expert. She felt like one and she definitely looked like one. She moved so swiftly, so professionally, drifting and turning with minimal effort, and even with such incredibly high speed, she moved as if it was nothing to her. She was incredible, and she knew it. She memorized the path as if it were the alphabet, she'd rode through it so many times she could race with her eyes closed. Yet, every race felt just a bit more scarier, faster, more exciting than the last. With every race that she raced in, she felt more thrill. She absolutely loved thrill.

Zeraphina was so wrapped up in the addicting adrenaline, and the freezing yet comfortable wind, and the thrill, and the excitement, and the cold night, she shut her eyes. She felt like floating. She felt complete.

She felt so alive.

But she didn't hear him yell at her.

She didn't hear the truck honking infront of them.

She didn't even feel him swerve his car to hers, causing hers to fall to the side of the road and to the grass.

She didn't feel any pain.

She didn't hear the crash.

She didn't hear anything.

She didn't see anything.

She only felt darkness. She felt it hugging her, trapping her in its embrace, keeping her safe, and she had never felt more secure. She then realized just how tragically beautiful the darkness was.

And just like that, she had never felt more dead.

++

FAM IM SO SO EXCITED FOR THIS

ok so basicallY i was going through my dad's old camera and i saw racing photos of when he went to one back in singapore like 3848294 years agO and im like "what if calum was a racer lmao"

ANDG IM LIKE "HOLY FUCK YSES" IMAGINE CALUM RACING WITH A RED HELMET ON AND HIS HANDS GRIPPING THE STEERING WHEEL REALLY TIGHT HIS VEINS ARE POPPING OUT AND FUCK YO FUCK

anyway i hope you guys like this ha IM PRAYING THIS WONT FLOP I LOVE THIS

LOVE U FAM

ps if you are an expert in cars and racing and u annoyed when people have the wrong information abt those kind of stuff please dont read on bECAUSE THIS STORY IS PURE FICTIONAL AND FOR THE CARS I JUST SEARCHED ON GOOGLE "types of racing cars" PLEASE DONT KILL ME

but if u a expert in cars and racing nd u want to help me out pLEASE DONfkskf

ok i love you :D

$$,

jay.