Racetrack Drama

Ryan looked at the chaos which was the racetrack. Old men, young men, females of all sizes were running around; working the ways of the sport which was Speed racing. The bells rang loudly as the cars took off, all the heads of everyone in the stands following their progression. Men with beer belly's shouted in anger, some in approval.

The adrenaline rush was amazing. The fact that this wasn't just racing, but underground street racing, was amazing. He'd do anything to get in on the action. If the cops were to become aware of these secret races, they'd be in amazing trouble. Considering they were in an abandoned airplane lane.

Then there was the Victory lane girls. In short-shorts, and small shirts. Their bodies amazingly figured. They walked into the roadway, holding their flags, motioning for the race to start.

It was a sight Ryan absolutely loved.

His friends cheered, wolf calls were made. But Ryan was noticing something else. While the racers were greeting fans, his eyes were set on one specific flag girl. Her hair was sleek brown, her beauty was amazing. She smirked across at him, shielding her face from the blazing sun. Her brown eyes sparkling.

the stupid race car driver had yet to go back on the field. Ryan looked at his roudy group of friends, all seemingly agitated.

And there, right across from him, was the car. It was now or never. Giving one more look to the amazing girl, he jumped the fence. He sneaked behind the buildings, finding a white suite to race in. The sound of an airplane ahead. Apparently this place wasn't as abandoned as he thought.

He got into the car, bracing himself for the moment his girl dropped the flag. She gave him a smile, raising her arm. A few more seconds, and...

Go!

He gassed the car, screeching as he was thrust into his seat. Everything was a blur. The announcers voice boomed overhead, but he didn't hear a thing. And then it happened.

The car exploded, his tires flying off. The car rolled, once, twice, three times aground. It was hectic. Was this Ryan's last day to live? Would his next breath be his last?

Screams and shouts surrounded him, his friends stretching to see him as paramedics laid him on a stretcher. The sound of running boots approaching. He opened his eyes to a smiling woman, as she leaned in to kiss him.

It was that woman. Her amazing smile pointed at him, as the paramedics prepared to take him off the track. He leaned up, his back searing in pain, and thumbed-up his friends.

After a short argument, and quick check up, he was declared fine. He joined his friends, walking off the racetrack.