The sun was gone. Night had fallen over the city, but both above and below, it was dotted with dots of brightness that refused to let it have its way. So, the metropolis remained restless, and in some ways, even more than during the day. It was like just as the world knew no pause, life would only keep moving, and it was indeed moving, with enough noise as if to cry its existence, just like right now, somewhere between downtown and the suburbs, in the Challengers racing club. And the noise was not just coming from people.
Cars, painted, tuned, remodeled to look totally different from their original appearances, all to become more sleek, more beautiful, and most of all, more powerful than ever. In here, they were the centers of attention, not the handsome men, nor the beautiful women. They came first, with everything else second, even becoming the deciding factors for any courtship that might take place, and the growl of their engines was the background music of the party, even more so than what was coming from the woofers.
The place, by itself, was raising the heat of the city to a higher level. And in such a heat-generating gathering, the enthusiasm reached a crescendo, all because of the centers of attention already locked in a growling competition of momentum on the track. An Alfa Romeo, remodeled to the point of making its original model indistinguishable, painted mostly blue, and a McLaren, one mostly white, just as vicious-looking as the other sports car.
Grumbling and growling as their tyres kept a tight grip on the asphalt, the two cars were vibrating to the anticipatory rhythm of what was to come. Each looked like a chained beast just waiting to be unleashed on the track, the tension surrounding them feeling thick enough to make space warp around them.
"Hester and Freddy look ready to eat each other! Maybe there is more than their bet on the line, but we! don't! care! Look at the way they are biting the track! Feel the tension between them! Hear the growl of their engines! All that matters is what they will show us on the track, right?!"
"Yeah!!!"
The crowd shouted loudly enough to suppress any other noise, and Lance, who was stoking the atmosphere on the stage, grinned before turning to the giant screen at the side. Looking at the predominantly blue Alfa Romeo and the white McLaren trembling from impatience with their tyres already smoking against the asphalt, he read the countdown out loud:
"Five!"
"Four!"
"Three!!!"
The crowd shouted with him, making him look back, before he smiled, and turned to the beginning of the race track a dozen meters away to continue, together:
"Two!!!"
"One!!!"
*VROOM!!~ SCREECH!!!*
Gone was the suppression, and in its place was ferocity unleashed. The two sports cars rocketed forward like unbridled beasts off to wreak carnage. In less than a second, they were already at the first bend, turning with barely any loss in speed, before their acceleration soared again, going beyond the previous peak in a single second. With a distance of barely a few inches between them, the tension from the starting line didn't explode, it didn't even get unleashed. It grew thicker, brewing like a storm, with the two looking like the horses of the sea god's chariot breaking through the stormy sea.
*SCREECH!!*
With a sharp piercing cry, the blue Alfa Romeo took the lead with a controlled drift, before biting the ground again to jump forward and regain the bit of speed it had lost. But the white McLaren was not having it, following tightly with a masterful handling that brought it right behind the Alfa Romeo, tightening the string of the tension so much so that it looked ready to snap.
Another place beset with the same tension, but already set ablaze, was the starting line. But that place, full of proponents of chaos, shouted while focused on the livestream of the race, excited, and even more so, only waiting for the tension as pungent as gasoline on the track to be set ablaze and burn as bright as it was burning, or even brighter. And Lance took the lead:
"Aaannd~ Hester takes the lead! But Freddy doesn't want to let him have his way! He follows tight behind him, ready to bite at him and tear his butt off!"
"Yeah!!!"
"Come on, Hester!!!"
"Don't lose, Freddy!!!"
"Wuuh!!!"
"Come on, Freddy!!! Don't be a wuss!!! Bite him!!!"
"Hester, don't give him a chance!!! Leave him in the dust!!!"
It didn't matter that even if the sound could travel all the way to the competing sports cars, the closed windows would keep it outside. It didn't matter either that the drivers were completely focused on the road. What mattered was the joy, the excitement, the exhilaration.
On the track, the competition continued. And it kept being about more than simple speed.
The two sports cars tried hard to outdo each other, pushing themselves for higher performance, for more skillful handling. Skids, drifts, even up to one hundred eighty degrees, and many other displays of skills and abilities that became a feast for the eyes of the spectators. Unfortunately, no matter what Freddy did, he never managed to cross the chasm of the first few inches he lost.
"And he lost… Freddy lost to Hester… Either his McLaren failed, or he failed… Nevertheless, he gave us a brilliant show, so let us all give it to him!!"
Starting with a sigh that mirrored the mood of the crowd, Lance ended his speech with a loud shout, and the crowd at the party responded to the raise of his hand.
"Yeah!!!"
Applause, shouts, cries… Everything to let out the heat the tight race had created. It didn't matter if the night was shaken awake. The competition had been amazing, and they had to let it be known.
Lance grinned:
"I can see many raring to go and be the next Hester! Don't worry, the night…!!!"
The response came like the wave of a tsunami:
"IS STILL YOUNG! AND WE WILL GO WILD!!!"
"YEAH!!!"
Lance's grin grew wilder, and he continued explosively:
"SO, WHO IS NEXT!!!"
And that… detonated the already boiling excitement.