Karma

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~Knockout's POV~ 

     We started for the racing arena. It was small, but can be used by the public, and by public I mean racers who have the money to get in. The government here had intended for the arena to be used for shows or concerts, but it was soon turned into a racing hub for rookie racers wanting their shot at glory. When we got there, the plan was thought out on how to crash the party. 

         "You don't happen to have any couple hundred dollars on you, do you (Y/N)?" 

         "Oh please. I asked to stop by the apartment for a reason!" 

She reached inside a backpack that had come out with her when we stopped by. 

         "The fee is 700, but I'm sure I can lower that to 550." 

         "And how are you going to manage that?" 

We were getting dangerously close the entrance. 

         "I'm prepared for 600." 

She still thinks she can lower the price? 

     The guard looked inside, eyeing (Y/N). 

         "You ready to pay?" 

         "Depends on who the piper is." 

         "Alright then, 450 please." 

If I could, I would have a hanging jaw right now. How did she do that?! 

     We left, and soon came to a young teen put a sticker on my windshield. 

         "If that leaves residue I will-" 

         "Have me clean it off for you. There's perks to having me around you know." 

She was more than right, but I don't know if she knew. Perhaps she will never know. In the mean time, I need to find the perfect target. We roamed around, many seeming to be on guard. They either heard of us, or have seen us in action. It was amusing to see some think that they could barricade our way by simply standing in our path. I would rev my engine, then almost run them over, it was most delightful to watch them wriggle away from under me and run back into the crowd. 

     Soon, we reached the end of the large line of cars. 

         "Hold it Knockout," I heard (Y/N) say, "is that a 1968 Ford Mustang Shelby GT 500?" 

         "That's rather specific... but, yeah." 

         "Stop." 

I complied, and watched as her face went from one of curiosity, to one of pure hatred. She stormed to the car, demanding to see the driver. When he came around, she slapped him. 

~(Y/N)'s POV~ 

         "YOU'RE THE AFT WHO STOLE MY CAR!" 

         "Um, excuse me?" 

The black haired 26 year old only stared at me, not recognizing me for who I was. I say past tense because that's not me anymore. 

         "Tyson, you better hope- no - you better pray to Primus that you win the next no rules match!" 

He just looked at me, obviously wondering how I knew his name, or even why. 

         "Wait a minute... You're that rookie Buster took on all that while ago! To bad he and his team left you after your car 'disappeared'." 

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