One shots

Control

Literally it's past five in the morning where I'm from. I love the fast and furious movies. I love my cars more especially old American muscle cars. But this piece was inspired by three things. A leather jacket, a song by Sean Kingston and last but not least a quote from a legend.

"If you have everything under control, you're not moving fast enough."-Mario Andretti

The hidden abandoned roads of San Juan were roaring with life. Music flowed loudly from basing speakers of cars. Cars and drivers lined the on going roads with cars. Impalas, Chargers, Camaros name it it was there. Cars old and new flooded swirling around the dead of human street creating a track.

Women and men stood around. Bodies were meshed as some danced. Bodies grinded, legs twisted around as arms flailed around in the most sensual of ways. Hips twisted and hands roamed freely, while they laughed. The atmosphere hot and steamy. Most were clad in leather, beachwear and shorts, as the night heat set their skin ablaze. But not more than the race that was about to start. Luis was a stupid fool going up against Sebastian. But he wouldn't deny that he was good and is best friend.

Sebastian Cortez. The name was well known for many reasons. Owning the best garage in the whole of America. Being the biggest name in the underworld of racing. The man police were dying to crack down on though they never had anything on him meaning they never could. He was a god walking in his time. Leaving a legacy behind. And he never had lost a race.

He stood alone in low riding jeans. His torso and chest tattoos covered by a black tight fitted shirt. His arms flexed, bulky muscles on show,as he stood leaning against his car, a 1967 Chevy impala in matte black, his pride and honor, while waiting for Luis. His tattoos on full show as they spiraled around his arms down to his hands. Blue eyes took in the environment with cocky enthusiasm. He had this and he knew it.

Sophia sat at the bar. No friends no acquaintances. She had a clear view of the starting line yet could see no man. Woman crowded the scene and so she sat in her comfortable silence. She could seek out whoever she wanted later if needed, But for now she would sit her juice in hand being the sore thumb sticking out.

Her dress the longest dress any of the races had probably seen. Even though it ended at mid thigh. The strapless khaki bodycon was flattering. It hugged her curves and the slight slit showed just a little extra leg. Her body toned and lean it complimented her tanned skin. Hair in a messy bun on top of  her head she stuck to wearing only diamond studs for jewellery. A leather jacket sat across her shoulders.

Her makeup simple. Eyes lined with eyeliner and mascara. Her lips painted a rosy pale pink. Effective as her features accentuate but she looked still like herself. Soph received stares and glares. She stuck out like a sore thumb compared to the girl's who seemed to practically wearing their underwear. Men stared as if she was a prize to be won. She payed no attention.

She knew  who was racing from the growing crowd.

Seb could feel eyes, but couldn't see them. Shaking out of his thoughts just in time to see one of his greatest friends Luis pull up. He admired how Luis already knew he didn't have a chance to win but was willing to give the crowd what they wanted. The rivalry between them would forever be sweet.

Nodding at Luis through his open window, the pair smiled like goofy teenagers. Walking around his own the crowd parted like the red sea for the legend. But Sebastian took the chance to analyses the faces. She wasn't here. And he didn't know how to feel.

With Sebastian returning only last night. Soph still hadn't been able to talk to him. He was gone before she woke up and her conversation was urgent. She felt sick to her stomach and tried to calm her nerves.