dream team oneshots

Another idea 4

Is this freedom?

A motorbike flew through the city a rider sat on it his grasp tight on the handlebars of his vehicle. His one escape, his only chance to be free. Adrenaline pumping through his veins, pure ecstasy filling his mind, almost nothing could take this feeling away from him now. Except-

Fuel. Fuck. He forgot to fuel it and now he was running on a tank with barely a drop left. There was a fuel station not far, he checked the tank once again and knew he could make it. He sped around the corners wind passing his bike at rapid speeds, even with the rush to get fuel on his back he could swear he was flying.

He soon felt himself slowing. Shit. He slowed to a stop beside the road his bike sputtering as it stopped, he leapt off and took in his location. Looking around, he knew the fuel stop wasn't too far, only a few blocks, George sighed in irritation, if he had noticed sooner, he would have made it easily, but now he had to walk. He strained lifting his bike and drawing it over to somewhere less conspicuous as he began to grab his keys wallet etc then beginning his walk through the sleeping city.

The cool night air hit his face and he walked down the street, a light wind flowing though his hair, he checked his pockets to grab a cigarette only to find an empty box. Sighing again and adding that to his minds shopping list.

Soon he found himself stood beside the fuel stop; he looked around taking it all in. Bright neon signs bounced off his eyes as they advertised different shitty and cheap products. He saw three guys stood there, drinking, a pile of vomit beside the door and a run-down car off to the side. All completed with the stench of the drunk it wasn't pleasant in the slightest. George strode forward stepping past the vomit and into the well-lit store. The cashier stood there, soft brown curls bouncing around his head as he nodded his head to the beat of a song only heard through his headphones, a bright purple jumper covered his frame sitting over top the store's uniform. George walked towards the counter and lightly knocked against the counter startling the employee.

"AH" he jumped in surprise before stuttering out "OH- HI UHM- welcome! Uh-, "he slowly regained his composure, taking out his headphones and putting them to the side.

"Sorry I had music on and wasn't expected many people at this time of night".

"No, don't worry about it, its fine" the biker spoke, a light British accent apparent in his voice.

"So, wha-cha need?" his voice matched his face and seeming personality, George was always good at that, reading people. "Do you have any fuel canisters? I didn't see any outside."

"Oh, yeah. They are in the back to deter thieves and stuff." He walked around the back leaving George alone at the desk. He looked out the window into the dark city. He takes breath, the scent of cigarettes and oil envelop his senses a taste of who his parents hate on his tongue.

"Here ya go!" The worker who now staring at his brightly decorated name tag assumed was Karl Jacobs, dropped an empty canister on the counter for the brit to grab "thank you. I'll be right back" he smiled as he walked out side to fuel up, his face hitting the damp air.

He walked to a fuel pump and kneeled down to fill it. As he watched the fuel fill and the price go up, he felt a pair of eyes on him, the feeling burnt his back and made his hairs stand up. Whoever it is wasn't good.

He finally stood up having decided the price was getting too high for his liking and the canister was filled enough. Sighing he walked back to the store intending to pay.

"Pump 4" he said plopping the canister down to grab his wallet. "Oh and a packet of Marlboros " he added

"Of course!" He turned to grab them from the shelf behind him.

The bell above the stored door ringed as someone entered. George looked over to see a tall masked man walked in. "What is that? A paper fucking plate?" George thought quietly staring at the man's weird fashion choice.

"Hey Karl" he spoke with a dusty tone, he sounded like he was in his 20s and he also towered over both men by a good few inches, it was quite intimidating.

"Dream" 'Karl Jacobs' stated turning around quickly with irritation in his voice

"Your not supposed to pick me up for a good hour, at least!"

"It's urgent-" the man George assumed was 'Dream' what an odd name.

"Well it can wait for five minutes while I ring up this customer. don't you think, Dreamy?" He spoke with a sickeningly sweet tone, squinting his eyes and slamming the cigarettes on the counter.

"Hurry" the taller spat before turning around and stepping to the side impatiently waiting for his 'friend' to be finished.

"Sorry about that" the employee chuckled awkwardly as he rushed to check out the biker. "Don't worry , let me just put that on debit" George fumbled around in his wallet also rushing as he felt he was in the middle of something he did not want to involve in.

As soon as he had payed he had sped walked out of the store, cigarettes in one hand and fuel in the other. As he exited the store he noticed the previous group had disappeared only to be replaced by people who seemed to be chatting among themselves before they saw George and decided it was funner to stare then chat. Not only did George just want to leave but he also saw at least five people, five people he DID NOT WANT to get into a fight with. So he decided to simply continue his speed walking away.

Soon he found himself back at his abandoned motorcycle feeling shaken. As he stood there he knew this day was important, he wasn't sure why but he knew.

Time seemed to fly as he thought about thus interaction and he stood at the doorway of his house his bike being parked in the garage and his gear still on. He fumbled with the door before finally unlocking the dark wooden door and walking into the place he calls home.

"Baby?" A soft voice called out as footsteps echoed down the hallway of the apartment "its late where have you been?" A short women appeared in the living room. Tucking her soft red dressing gown around her tighter she waited for a reply.

"Sorry ,Ev." He paused in silence unsure of how to proceed. "I just needed some air"

"Again? Sweetie you've been going out a lot more lately since..." she paused to not wanting to talk about that.

"No- its " George sighed "its not that it's work" he reasoned as he slowly walked closer to her. "You promise ?" She asked as he stood beside her.

"Of course " he softly ruffed her blonde hair squeezing a giggle from her soft pink lips.

Evangeline, a lovely young girl life similar to her lover George, loving parents, relatively wealthy, smart and pretty. They seemed perfect for each other.

"C'mon let's go to bed silly" she laughed lovingly at her partner

"Of course, but after i change" George whispered which prompted another giggle as she walked back to their room. The smile that George held only a moment ago faded quick. Good job, now hurry and get changed he thought sighing as he locked the door and walked to the room to get changed and join Evangeline.

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your mum