Seth POV:
"I heard you're good at playing but I didn't know you're this much good to keep boys all over you, especially other's boyfriend. Anyway, congratulations on your championship!" - Becky
I stare at the text with tears prickle in my eyes. I wipe my tears and throw my phone on the bag when I hear the footsteps coming towards me. I take a deep breath and put the helmet on, not wanting to show my face to others.
I check everything one last time and show thumbs up to Dean, Roman, and Marek who are waiting outside for me. I tear my gaze away from them and go to the racetrack, wanting to feel the pleasures of my dream.
I glance at the front-row seat for Dean over the 400,000 screaming fans cheering for their favorite drivers. A slight smile tugs at my lips but it fades away when I remember about the text of Becky.
I grasp the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white and turn my gaze away from him. The air smells of concession foods and burned rubber and the only noise able to cut through the clamor of the crowd is the roar of engines.
When the flag has blown in the air, I take off the car and drive it fast on the track. I increase the speed each time and try to concentrate on the track, but my mind goes back to the text and starts to bother me.
It has been four hours racing but I feel like it's 24 hours racing because my mind is still stuck with that shit which tries to take my dream away from me. I suffer almost three hours and waste my time without doing anything.
Finally, my mind understands my situation and tries to help me forget about everything except where I'm and what I'm doing. It's almost late, but I don't want to lose hope. I notice right on time and get the car back on its track before it gets crashes.
Marek has told me speed is not important in auto racing, it's just a part. I put my all efforts and concentrate on the track, driving the car. In the end, I finish the race at fifteenth and leave the car with frustration.
I take the helmet off my head and leave the racetrack, not wanting to talk with anyone. I let out a sigh as I make my way to the back, feeling ashamed of losing the hope of Dean and others.
Dean POV:
I rap my knuckles against the door before pushing it open to see Seth. My heart drops to my stomach at the sight of him sitting on the chair with his head in his hands. I shut the door quietly and make my way to him, dropping to my knees in front of him.
I grab his wrists and brush my thumbs against his skin. "Hey," I say in a soft voice, offering him a slight smile.
He gives a tight smile, and his eyes are dull and tired. "Let's get out of here." I hiss and swallow the ache in my throat. The sight of him looking so tired and defeated isn't one that I like because it's heartbreaking and upsetting.
He sighs and clasps his hands briefly before standing up from the chair. He moves around and packs his bag in silence. He nods at me and then we make our way outside to see Roman and Marek waiting for us.
"We still have hope in you so don't worry. We have another seven rounds and we will take care of that." Marek says and places his hand on Seth's shoulder, giving it a light squeeze.
We make our way out to the parking lot through busy halls. The drive back to the hotel is quiet, and it's only broken when we finally pull up to the entrance. His sponsor and trainer don't come with us because they have some work there.
I sigh and grab his hand, lacing our fingers together to give him some comfort and solidity. When we reach our room, I pull him into a hug and whisper in his ear, "You're still my favorite."
He chuckles softly, "I better be."
I pull away from him and notice the worry in his face. I'm not sure it's because of the race or something. Whatever it is, I should make him feel good. I cup his cheeks and press my lips against his.
I tangle my fingers in his hair and pull his head in closer to mine, forcing my tongue inside his mouth. I feel shocked when he pushes me away and glares at me, "What are you doing?"
"Trying to make you feel good," I say to him and grab his hand, comforting him. He shoves me away and grits his teeth, feeling embarrassed. "I feel you're using me." He says through gritted teeth.
He tries to move but I don't let him and make him look at me, "Just tell it right at my face." He swallows hard and looks away, not having the guts to face me.
I'm sure something is wrong and I need to know what it is. As I try to know what is bothering him, his phone vibrates and makes him tensed. He glances at me before going to his bag and takes his phone out. I grab the phone from his hand in doubt and notice the text of what he has.