“Mr. Shaw, which car do you think Mr. Vaughn should wash?”
Selene’s voice was laced with mischief, her eyes bright with anticipation. She had no doubt Adrian would make this worth watching.
Adrian turned to the staff and said, “Bring the car Mr. Vaughn will be washing.”
A garbage truck rumbled onto the track, its faded paint streaked with grime.
Most of the spectators remained in their seats, craning their necks for a better look in Luna’s direction–no one was leaving as long as she was still here.
When the crowd caught sight of the filthy garbage truck, excitement rippled through the stands. Phones came out, ready to capture every moment of the impending spectacle.
At that moment, a staff member received a slip of paper, cleared his throat, and spoke into the microphone:
“As per our earlier agreement, since Luna has taken the championship, our CEO, Mr. Vaughn, will not only present her with three brand–new cars–he’ll also become her personal car washer for the night, offering a hands–on cleaning service!”
His announcement boomed across the stadium, echoing through speakers worth more than most people’s homes.
“So tonight, our CEO will be washing a garbage truck for Luna right here, live! Let’s give Mr. Vaughn a big round of applause!”
He wiped his brow as he finished, inwardly sighing. The Shaws were old money, and the Vaughns even more so–he couldn’t afford to offend either. He silently prayed: “Let Vaughn take it up with Shaw if he’s angry. Please, leave us regular folks out of it.”
With the staff egging them on, the crowd burst into applause. Harrison Vaughn was in the spotlight now, and the giant screen above the stands stayed lit, the cameras and production crew clearly ready to broadcast every second of Harrison’s humiliation.
Meanwhile, Felicity was still pushing her motorcycle toward the finish line, sweat soaking through her heavy racing suit. She regretted not just running–she could’ve made it in under half an hour. Instead, here she was, still trudging along, her steps growing more awkward by the minute.
1/3
21:39
“Let’s go,” Adrian said, wrinkling his nose. “It reeks here.”
Harrison bristled. He knew Adrian’s words were meant for him–a pointed insult.
Selene, unsurprisingly, had no interest in watching Harrison wash a garbage truck in front of everyone. If he refused, he’d just make himself the butt of every joke. She followed Adrian out, not once glancing back.
“Bye, Luna!” Dames called after her, voice full of longing.
But Selene didn’t look back. She climbed into Solarius, and as it pulled away from the arena, Felicity tried to slip off the track–only to be stopped by Adrian’s people.
A staff member called out over the mic, “Miss Thompson, you still have two kilometers to go! Let’s cheer Felicity on, everyone!”
The spotlight swung back to her. Instantly, Felicity covered her face, mortified to be the last one dragging herself down the track, her feet blistered and raw.
Before the race, she’d bragged about making Luna crawl to the finish. Now, it looked like she’d be the one crawling if this kept up.
Harrison wasn’t about to disgrace himself scrubbing a garbage truck. He called over some men to do the job for him–no one dared force him otherwise. He stood off to the side, arms folded, supervising the wash. That was as far as he was willing to compromise.
By the time Harrison left Bellcrest Mountain, Felicity had collapsed in a sobbing heap at the finish line, knees buckling under her.
Harrison took Dames back to the Vaughn estate. Dames, still giddy, gripped an imaginary steering wheel and mimicked the roar of an engine all the way home.
It was late, but Dames was too excited for sleep.
“Daddy, you forgot to get Luna’s phone number! But it’s fine–she’ll have to come by to pick up her cars, right? That means I’ll get to see her again!”
Eventually, he was coaxed to bed by the house staff.
Harrison spent nearly an hour in the shower, scrubbing every trace of that garbage truck stench from his skin. Finally, satisfied, he wrapped himself in a towel and dried off.
He climbed into bed, but sleep was anything but peaceful. In his dreams, the roar of racing engines filled his ears, deafening and wild. He was behind the wheel, Luna perched in his lap. Clothes rustled, breath quickened, and the car spun out of control on the track.
01:39
Suddenly, Luna whipped off her helmet. Her dark hair tumbled down like a waterfall, strands wrapping around his pounding heart.
She braced herself on the driver’s seat, leaning in close.
But the face that filled Harrison’s vision wasn’t Luna’s–it was Selene’s, cheeks flushed, lips parted.
Boom!
Harrison jolted awake, gasping for air, staring up at the ceiling as his heart thundered in his chest.
He sat up abruptly, still shaken, not yet able to process the absurdity of his dream.
And then, suddenly, he noticed something.
Harrison threw back the cov
