Kris took the lead. Even though he drew a wide arc in the new section of the track he dove into, he managed to barely flirt with the colorful strips at the edge of the track, then push himself back to the center of the path.
Behind him, the dark, light-swallowing SUV swung itself around the corner with an unchanging oppressive steadiness and a jarring smoothness. But it remained behind. For once, it had been left behind, and that was all that mattered.
And Kris, looking at that sight through his rearview mirror, could not suppress the grin that grew at his mouth, full of a mix of savagery and satisfaction. And he pressed down harder onto the accelerator, turning into a happy white blur that pushed the two meters of advantage he had managed to clinch straight to a five meters lead.
He had to suppress the burst of joy threatening to rip a wild laughter out of him all in order to focus on the track and keep going stronger, faster, and harder.
Back on the stage at the beginning of the track, Lance opened his eyes wide at the scene transmitted in real time through the cameras and exclaimed explosively:
"Wouah~~!!! What a show of wild recklessness! That, everyone, is the dogged determination of a little brother categorically refusing to remain in the oppressive shadow of his big brother! And it seems like he is about to succeed!!! Kris Lenner is about to rise above his brother!!! Kris Lenner is about to beat the man, the myth, the legend!!!!!!"
"WOOHHH!!!"
"Kris! Kris! Kris! Kris! Kris! Kris!..."
The wild response got Lance grinning, and he sharply cut through the excitement like ink dropping into clear, untamed water:
"But I still support ALEX!!!"
"YEAH!!!"
"A~LEX!!! A~LEX!!! A~LEX!!! A~LEX!!! A~LEX!!!"
The crowd which had been supporting Kris just now suddenly swung to the other side with an even louder chant. There was not even any attempt to hide the revelry in the chaos. Supporting the underdog to get more excitement could never go wrong, neither could following the hype to drive the fire higher.
Observing the scene, Sharon almost failed to suppress a twitch at the corner of her mouth amidst the unapologetic chaos-loving chaotic crowd focused on expressing its desire for chaos. And the worst, as she turned to the side, her lips finally twitching with suppressed, speechless laughter, was her own friend enjoying the display of chaos and embracing the sweat-inducing heat, body and soul:
"A~lex!!! A~lex!!! A~lex!!! A~lex!!! A~lex!!!"
_ _ _
_ _ _
On the screen beside the stage, Alex could be faintly seen raising an eyebrow through the windshield of his oppressive vehicle. He seemed to laugh as he looked up, almost as if he could spot the camera overhead in that fleeting moment, then his arms moved, both the right one resting casually on the armrest and the left one expertly wielding the steering wheel. And that was all he did.
The needles jumped on the dashboard. The dark SUV seemed to receive a kick in the backside, and it jumped forward to clinch back one fifth of the loss. Then… there was no then.
With an interesting monochromatic color scheme, the competition gained a strange choreographed atmosphere. When Kris drifted into a corner, the dark beast behind would soon follow. When he took advantage of straight lines to push his acceleration as much as possible, the lingering ghost that he never managed to shake away would do the same, and lose not an inch more than before, though not gaining back any more of the previous loss either. And that was what was infuriating.
Kris's grin didn't last on his face before fading to let a tight expression take its place. And the tight expression didn't last either, before it turned into a silent show of anger as he ground his teeth while sneaking looks toward the back.
The dark beast remained infuriatingly steady. It seemed to be mocking him, almost like how a cat would play with a mouse. Its dark maw with bright headlights seemed to be laughing at him, pointing at him while sneering at his efforts.
He had one of the fastest cars in the world, one made for speed, for the track, light and easy to handle. But despite that, the lumbering weight rolling down behind him never seemed to behave as it should have by lumbering.
The race should have been easy. If anything, his lead should have made Alex restless even if not panicked. But now he seemed to be the clown. He was in the lead, but he was the one under pressure.
He hated it.
Suppressing something deep inside with a heave of his chest, he clenched his hands over the steering wheel, then made a harsh turn, drifting into the new corner with smoke, a screech, and a growl:
"I refuse to believe it!"
The Ferrari SF90 Stradale XX jumped out of the last bend with the burning determination of someone ready to lay down his life for the win. And he could see the end just in front.
Looking into the rearview mirror, Kris grinned with satisfaction, seeing his chances rise up like they were riding a rocket. He had to suppress a laugh this time, a wild laugh at the opportunity to crush Alex that was just in front waiting for him.
With a bright face with a light proportional to the dark resentment he had been nursing till now, he pushed down hard, and the Stradale responded to him. He was close. He was so close. And there was no more dark ghost on his heels. It didn't matter when it happened. He had finally thrown the haunting monster away. And he was about to be the winner.
He was ready to celebrate. He would have already started if the joy was not weaker than the desire to stomp the victory onto Alex's face.
Just a few hundred meters. He was almost there. And he would be the first to reach there.
If only he had been able to hear the crowd at the entrance of the track. And if only he had the same clearer view of the track and the situation of the race. If only time could slow down for him to see the scene behind him better.
If only there was no 'if only'...