Invisible String

Chapter 23: the past

Word count: 2293
It had been a week since Samaira got married. Life seemed to move on, but I was still grappling with my own unresolved issues. Samaira had mentioned Jeremy’s call, tempting me to re-engage with a past I had sworn off. The festival was approaching, yet I found it hard to muster any enthusiasm. Sometimes, the thought of contacting Jeremy back would flit through my mind, the reckless part of me whispering, "What’s the worst that could happen?" But deep down, I knew why I couldn't go down that path again.

————————-Flashback—————————

The memory was vivid, a stark reminder of a time when adrenaline and excitement coursed through my veins. The whole crowd had been cheering and hooting for none other than,

“Naina! Naina! Naina!”

The roar of the engines, the thrill of the race—it was my element. My red Ferrari 296 GT3 had entered the race pit with a screeching noise, the exhaust billowing giant plumes of smoke as I executed a flawless drift.

Beside me, a silver Koenigsegg Jesko Absolut stood proudly, its engine revving, announcing the presence of its driver, Jorge Hernandez. He was one of the best racers from another pit and it was his first race here today, alongside me.

I was trained by the best of the best, Jeremy Johnson. I was initially introduced to this place by my then boyfriend, and his bestfriend, Jeremy, saw the potential in me and trained me to be the racer I am today. He took me under his wing and taught me everything that he knew.

The competition between me and Jorge was fierce, with the crowd going wild, screaming and shouting, captivated by the spectacle, as they knew that Jorge was unbeatable, but so was I.

Samaira, my best friend, was in the audience. Despite our mutual love for racing, we had never competed against each other, valuing our friendship too much to risk it. Racing was our comfort, our escape, not something to drive a wedge between us.

As the announcements began, Jorge peeped out of his car’s window and asked me to lower my window as well.

“You know, I should probably give you a 5 second head-start. After all, you gotta respect a woman’s weaknesses.” He smirked at me and looked right ahead.

My blood boiled at his words and I was more determined than ever to show this mysoginistic scum exactly who he was up against. Aaj isko dikhana hi padega iska baap kon hai. 

As the flag waved, signaling the start of the race, he didn’t start the car and neither did I. I just took out my lip gloss from purse and started applying it. Jorge looked at me furiously and said, “I told you to use this 5 second head-start, didn’t I?”

“Oh I am,” I finished applying my lip gloss and looked out through the window, a challenging smirk on my face, “And now when we reach the finish line, everyone will know that you were beat by a woman.” I winked at him, and got ready to punch it.

Jorge and I floored the pedals, launching into the chaos. The crowd’s excitement was palpable as we battled it out, neither willing to cede the lead. The intensity of the moment was exhilarating, the roar of the engines and the blur of the surroundings melding into a symphony of adrenaline.

I gave him the lead purposely to make him feel as if he was winning, he was the overconfident type and I knew it. When the time was right I changed the gear and sped up on the curve with such great precision that he was dumbfounded. I could feel the thrill of the race, my car responding to every command with precision, I was close to winning this. I changed gears for another curve which was sharper than the other, pushing my Ferrari past Jorge’s car, a triumphant smile spreading across my face as the finish line loomed closer. But then, disaster struck. My car’s tire blew out, sending me careening out of control. The world turned upside down as my car flipped, and everything went silent.