Accelerate

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Strangers can wind up becoming the most important people in your life, or so it is believed. As a driver, Kai met all types of people daily. No matter their race, sexuality, identity - everyone had a story of their own. One woman had sobbed out pleas into the receiving end of her phone for her fiancé to take her back after she had cheated, another man had droned on about how much he hated his job, a non-binary person had boasted about how shaving their head made them feel more free after being thrown onto the streets by less than accepting parents. Heavy rain pattered the windshield of the taxi, skies grim with dark clouds and thunder rumbling signaling that the storm had no intention of leaving and would be staying the night. This was definitely not the first time he'd driven in bad weather, and since his shift was ending soon he figured that no types of characters would be out in these conditions. It was late into Thursday afternoon, nearly evening time and around then the amount of patrons willing to ride home became more scarce. Kai taps the steering wheel as he waits for the red light to flash green, yawning and feeling thankful for the fact he'd made a quick Starbucks dash an hour ago. A restless night of studying for his college exams had made it hard to stay energized through this nine to five job, but the pay was necessary if he wanted to keep his comfy dorm. If it meant that he could finally have his own space away from the craziness of weird roommates, so be it. Slow, but steadily, he weaves through vehicles and downs the cappuccino. The extra vanilla foam he'd requested is like the most perfect ending to his day, and it seems as though nothing could ruin his content mood.

Speak of the damn devil - it's as though he'd manifested his own ruin by lifting his hopes too high. Just in the nick of time, a minute before he can at last clock out, he spots a woman on the corner dressed in an odd ensemble. A beige trench coat and Louboutins, crazily waving her arms back and forth to flag him down. No umbrella, too, which is evident in how she stands there looking like a sad puppy abandoned by its owners. Pathetic and in need of help from a kind stranger, and of course he couldn't just drive by without feeling some type of nagging guilt. This once would he let it consume him, and pay forward an act of kindness by sacrificing his time to ensure she got home safe in this downpour. "Where to?" he cries over the noise as she clambers into the backseat, throwing her purse into the footwell and grumbling expletives under her breath.

"853 Hayweather Street, and step on it. I don't have all day!" The nerve of you to have any type of attitude, especially after he'd gone out of his way to look out for your wellbeing. "Half the damn taxi drivers in this shit city drive like they belong in a retirement home, and I'm not about to take an hour and a half to get to a house that's only fifteen minutes away."

"A thank you would be nice." If you wanted to start your ride off on a sour note, then he would return the less than polite treatment. "I tote people like you wherever you all ask me to go like a chauffeur, and of course I get people like you in my backseat who don't know how to be a decent human being. But whatever." It wasn't enough that he struggled to make friends in school and had a fractured relationship with his family, he needed it from people he didn't know too?

"Oh, I know plenty about that." You kick your heel into the back of his seat as if to chastise him, and rifles through your bag to find your matte red lipstick so you can reapply it as it's a bit smudged. "If I didn't, then I wouldn't be willing to put up with your rude ass just to win my ex back. Figured I'd surprise him by showing up in my birthday suit, since the last time we were in a relationship he claimed I was never sexy enough for him."

"First of all, any man who would be stupid enough to tell a woman that doesn't deserve her in the first place. Every woman is sexy in her own way, and you don't need to prove yourself to some loser who's too blind to see that in the first place." The rearview mirror allows the both of you to exchange glances, and as he gets a better view he realizes that if he looks past the soaked locks of hair and mascara puddled in the corners of your eyelids, you're quite attractive. "I think he's lucky to have the attention of someone like you, honestly."

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