A Little bit of Heartbreak can Always be Mended

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~(Y/N)'s POV~

         "So... How come he never came to see me when I was away from Mom... He was safe from her, we both were." I had probably asked over a million questions, most of them being redirected to having to ask Dad, the man's whose face I have never seen.

         "Well... that I don't have an answer to... The only reason why I know about your illegal habits is because of the memories that were downloaded into this body." Roman stated, cleaning a dirty dish from my meezly dinner of eggs and toast. He was always one to lessen my load. "I will admit, you were quite the hell raiser!" Despite the holoformic skin, I could hear his gears turn, literally, as he moved around, putting the slightly chipped dish in it's rightful cupboard.

         "Yeah, still am! But, I'm not exactly 'Knockout' without my Devil Car." I shrugged, and Roman laughed.

         "Devil Car?"

         "Yep," I popped the 'P', "And he calls me his Street Racer Darling."

         "Well it certainly fits!" my brother laughed again, and brought me outside, saying he wanted to see me as Wildstryke, which I had told him about earlier, along with any other tidbit of my adventures so far that he didn't know. I showed him the psychic patch, and how it worked, then opened my optics, their bright red still there. It was the only thing I couldn't bring myself to change. I blocked the water fall for him as I stepped out.

         "So this is the Cybertronian you," Roman admired, "Well at least you're not short anymore!" He gafawed, and I scoffed.

         "Shut it... I'm actually still short by Cybertronian standards."

         "Naw, you're alright." Roman assured, his black hair slightly ruffled from the breeze that had started to pick up.

         "Well... how much time you got on your fake skin?"

         "Another 20 minutes. Why?"

I devilish grin graced my faceplate, and I transformed.

         "HOLY SCRAP! YOU'RE A VIPER?!"

         "Frag yeah man! Though I still miss my old Mustang!"

         "Knockout's one lucky mech."

         "You're one lucky brother. You still remember our calling?"

         "Boogity Boogity Boogity!"

         "LET'S GO RACING BOYS!"

Like lightening we were off, and in town in less than five minutes. I knew there was a good racing site that started in 10 minutes, so we were making good time already.

     I rolled in, and spectators marveled at the new comer. Drivers came, and either admired my (F/C) and (SecondF/C) finish, or cursed at it as they realized how screwed they were. I found a parking space, and let Roman out so he could stretch his legs. I started to regret that choice as many a woman came and admired his 16 year old self. To my surprise, he turned them all away, claiming that he was only there for his sister, and that I could beat them in any contest of beauty.

         "You know, I don't think cars count in any beauty pageant." I whispered.

         "You know, I highly doubt Knockout became your boyfriend just because you could race." He whispered back, and I felt my cooling fans kick in, but I quickly shut them off as the call for the first race was announced. Bets were made, rules were set, and many prepared to break them as engines started to shake the ground, the air, once temperate, now hot with the burning of fuel and NOS mixing together. I waited for the race to start, the strong grip of my brother's servos on my steering wheel.

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