Racing Through Stars!

Freen sat on her couch in the dim light of her small apartment, turning Billy's business card over and over in her hands like it might give her different answers if she looked at it from enough angles. His phone number was scribbled on the back in messy handwriting, and she'd been staring at it for the past hour, completely torn about whether to take his offer or throw the card in the trash and pretend this conversation had never happened.

She'd spent most of the evening weighing all the risks in her head. What if the police showed up during one of these races and caught everyone involved? What if someone got seriously hurt and she was somehow held responsible? Honestly, the possibility of getting arrested didn't worry her too much - she'd been in worse situations before, and she knew how to handle herself. What really scared her was the thought of Nam finding out what she was doing. Nam would probably lose her mind if she knew Freen was getting back on a motorcycle to race again, especially in some underground street racing scene that was probably dangerous and definitely illegal.

But the truth was, she needed the money more than she needed to avoid taking risks. Her rent was three months behind, her bank account was in the red, and she had bills piling up that weren't going to pay themselves. She made a mental note that whatever happened tonight, this was just going to be temporary. She'd make enough money to get back on her feet, and then she'd get out before things got complicated. And this time, she wasn't going to let anyone - especially not some girl with emotional baggage - hold her back the way Heidi had.

She grabbed her phone and Billy's card, took a deep breath, and typed out a message before she could change her mind.

Freen [7:08pm]: I'm on my way.

She stood up from the couch and walked to her closet to change clothes. She pulled on a white t-shirt, black jeans that fit her like they were made for riding, her old leather jacket that still smelled like motor oil and memories, and a pair of sneakers that would give her good grip on the bike pedals. Her phone buzzed with Billy's reply just as she was checking herself in the mirror.

Billy [7:10pm]: Alright. I'll be waiting for you here...

Freen locked her apartment door and walked down to where her motorcycle was parked in the narrow alley behind her building. The bike started up on the first try, which felt like a good sign, and she pulled out into the busy Bangkok traffic. The familiar weight of the machine between her legs and the sound of the engine beneath her made something in her chest feel lighter than it had in months.

As she got closer to Billy's garage, she could see him standing next to his own motorcycle near the entrance, and even from a distance she could tell he was smirking like he'd known all along that she'd end up calling him. Freen pulled up next to him, killed her engine, and pulled off her helmet, shaking out her hair.

"I thought you'd given up on racing for good," Billy said with a chuckle, clearly enjoying the fact that he'd been right about her not being able to stay away.

"You know I need the money, Billy. So are we just going to stand here talking, or are we actually going racing tonight?"

"Now you're talking like the Freen I remember. Follow me," Billy said with a grin, slipping his helmet back on and getting ready to lead her wherever these underground races happened in the city.

Freen and Billy rode their motorcycles through the narrow streets of Bangkok until they reached an old warehouse on the outskirts of the city. They parked their bikes inside the massive space, and immediately Freen was hit by the overwhelming smell of gasoline mixed with burning rubber and hot metal. The sound of engines roaring and revving echoed off the concrete walls like thunder, and she could feel the vibrations in her chest. She'd forgotten how intoxicating this world could be, how it made her blood pump faster just being around so much raw power and speed.