The familiar smell of burnt rubber fills the air. So nostalgic it brings memories I didn't know I've forgotten. Car revs in the distance as the lights dangle on the desk from the passing cars on the track. A knock on the door catches my attention "Alex" said Don half way peeking through the door. "Are you ready for your race? Your race division is next".
"Yea, I'm coming" I replied, unable to hide the shaky nervousness in my voice. "You got this, your father was the same way when he first raced on the track" he said with a smile trying to reassure me and it almost worked if it wasn't for the crescending loud sound of the cars reeling around for their next lap. "We'll be here waiting whenever you're ready". I nod and he leaves, closing the door behind him. Reason I'm here to begin with is not because I've earned a spot in the meet but to make my father proud. He has a true racing heart, everything is a race to him but never had a competitor. He also wanted a son to pass his legacy too so when I was born he did not force it on me but…almost. I on the other hand hated cars and racing, racing cars. We were utter opposites and at times I wonder if we had anything in common. The older I got I realized we did have one thing in common, our competitive spirit and he knew it too. Teaching me how to disassemble and reassemble a car engine but challenging me so I'm persuaded to do so, the slick bastard he is. A memory I disliked turned into a one I cherished and it was a good father and child bonding experience. Eventually I learned how to drive at the age of 13 and working and driving grew on me. Soon I looked forward to our frequent vivid visits to car shows along with my dad racing with me cheering him on in the stands. Never thought I would be on the track as well wearing his number and his helmet. It was baggy because he was bigger and taller than I was and I'm now 22 and fully grown. My dad who's in a coma in the hospital from an accident he received from a race a few months ago at the first race of this season.

Doctor's appointed he's lucky to be alive, he may never race or possibly walk again. This would utterly destroy him almost to a point of death. He lived on the road. Speculation raged onward if he's going to continue racing so for the rivalry we both share I decided I will take hold of the mantle and race in his steed. It would be against the rules to switch drivers so I posed as him with a little help from coach Don and dad's manager, Howard Shrew. A voice over the radio from my race helmet pings in "your race is next. The team is still waiting for you Alex". *Sigh* I put on my helmet and headed to my car. Approaching the team filled with solemn fake smiles smeared across their faces like a little kid drew it, trying their best to cheer me up. "You got this Alex, you're the only one who can do this" a voice from the side coming from a tire boy. I nod in approval, "thank you, I really needed that". Another fun fact, my father's car was completely totaled from his accident so I had to use mine. We both have race cars so what's better than to use my own? Besides the stack of papers as long as my arm had to get signed which I didn't do. Well, most of it, just to register my car as a replacement. Soon I'm on the track with Don, my coach leaning in the window. "Ok if all goes well, don't take off your helmet, keep quiet, and win. I know you Jack are unfilial so race then get out of there. Heart reverberating in my chest, simplicity understanding the fear turning to avid. "Your father always wanted you on the track," Don said. "I know. I never expected it to be like this. I'd imagine we be here together as a team."
"Me too, me too. Oh and one more thing. Your father usually uses his turbo at the start of the race to get him in first place. All he has to do is maintain it". I couldn't help but smirk, "I appreciate the help, but let me do this my way." Now as the light lights up above, I see dad's new rival who actually poses a threat. The steel cage grenade, "Gauge Petkinski". Looking into each other's visors I can feel his gaze like daggers incandescent through his visor. The rumbling of cars vibrating can be felt in the stands and mine on my steering wheel.

*GO* The light turns green with Gauge immediately drifting his car in front of mine in case I were to try and used turbo which my dad would have undoubtedly done, but I didn't, I'm not dad. He didn't know that so he took off trying to gain the lead while I followed close behind him. Few laps around the track barely able to keep up with him let alone pass him and by the way he talks matches his derision attitude. The whole race mirrored this ending with me finishing second.
End of the race while making a few adjustments to my engine, I hear footsteps approaching half expecting it to be my manager or Coach. To my surprise it was Gauge or what the people like to say, "rage Gauge". It took me for a loop that he would come to my pit. He stops just two feet away "looks like someone lost their touch old man, it's time for the new generation to take over this track". In all honesty I wanted to take off my helmet and throw it at him with all my force but I couldn't, he didn't know my father, I mean Jack, was in the hospital in a coma as we spoke. Mainly him, I stood quite trying my best to ignore him. When he didn't get a rise out of me, he continues to ramble on. "you know this is my first win against you, good to know you can be beat. I'm coming for that crown by the end of this grand prix. That hurt a little knowing I'm responsible for my father's first lost against his rival, I'm not as good as he is. Before he exits I say "you can try". Keeping my father's competitive spirit along with mine alive. I couldn't tell his reaction because I never turned to face him but he told me something I would never forget. "Hey, it's good to have you back". He leaves without another word.

After working on my car and testing some upgrades that just delivered, I went back to the hospital as my daily routine to visit my father for any updates. Coach accompanied me too, bringing up my spirits as we talked to dad about the recent race. "Dad I did it, I raced, I freaking raced"
"Yea and and you'll be pleased to know you were right. Alex came second which is better than I thought compared to the other drivers but killed it out there". I could tell he was talking through dad to me which was sweet. "Thank you Don", he smiled. Placing my hand on father's arm in silence as the IV detects his heartbeat. Next race goes about the same and the one after that I come third. The fans began to question if Jack had lost his touch, if the accident had ended his career and maybe he should retire. Howard Shrew (our manager) keeps us updated and informs me "if you want to keep racing, you're going to have to start winning". I interject immediately "but I'm coming in top three. I never got lower. Placing both hands on his hips he continues "if you were any other racer that would be great but you're not, your Jack Heart. Jack doesn't get third or second at that".
"I'm trying," I pleaded. "I'm not my father".
"I know, I know. But if you don't come first in your next race then you're excluded from the championship cup and you or rather your father's title is forfeit". I have no choice but to be subservient, he was right. Next thing I know I'm back in my car on the edge of concaving to the tunnel vision of the finish line that's in my sights. Heart in my palm I recite a prayer. "Speed in my blood, finish line in my sight, I don't ask for luck, I don't ask for life, but to win this race with all my might. If you think I am lying, then I'll die trying".

*GO* This time I'm able to keep up with Gauge who we now share first place being neck and neck. Speed in my car was all I needed to keep up with him and with the help of coach (Don), I was able to acquire them. We bump into each other but none of us willing to budge, neither one of us wanting to give up the lead. If I can only get in front then I can win. A one lap race that I practiced on with dad so I knew it well like all others. Coming to a split in the road with me dead in the center of it, if I don't slow down or alter my course I will crash. Left leads to Glen, back to traffic off the race course while the right keeps us on it but as you know Gauge is preventing me from entering. He is either willing to knock me off the road or taking a gamble that I'm going to slam on the breaks. He was half, I hit the break last second for a quick second then went behind him to the other side of him. I was barely behind him and closing in on the finish line. I had no choice but to hang behind him to gain aerodynamic resistance to pull closer. I can hear Coach on in my helmet "NOW". That's when I shift beside him, gaining the lead in the process while looking at him as I pass finishing in first place. I never felt such euphoria pulling into my pit honking elatedly.

Shrilly hugging Howard and Don back in my pit I was caught by surprise when Gauge stopped by to congratulate me on my win. "Good race old man," he said, holding out his hand. I peered deep into his eyes scrutinizing him but he only smiled. I take his hand, being a little taken aback by his good sportsmanship. I came to realize he isn't so different from me and dad, just a competitive rival I can say. Lowering my head in acknowledgement "good race to you as well Petkinski, that was fun".
"Oh you won't be so lucky this upcoming race, time to knock you off the top". Magnanimous chuckle I responded "we'll see" but the next race would be taking place on bliss drift mountain. The mountain Gauge managed to tie with dad in. My heart sank during our embarkation enshrouded in the stiffness of fear with the only resonance coming from the beating in my chest. Thirty minutes before the race I sit in my vehicle destitute of hope, almost to the point of hyperventilating. Don approaches "hey kid, ready for the race"? When I didn't respond he knew something was wrong. "Alex, talk to me, what's going on"? I gaze at his concerned expression, "I don't think I can win. I can't win".
"Yes you can," Don tried to induce. Mind peregrinates as if he wasn't speaking. *Snap snap* "hey, you listening"? Don says. Exhaling "yes but it's improbable that I will succeed, I'm not fast enough". He looked deep into my eyes. "Today you have to be".

That was the motivation needed to get me back into the right headspace. When I turned the key, the car didn't turn on. "What's going on"? Again and again I tried, it wouldn't start. The car wouldn't start and after a moment's reconnaissance we found we'd been sabotaged. Sudden poignant overshadowed my perception. "It's over" I murmured, undeterred spirits beginning to fade until Don instills me with a revolution with one simple action. Another car lays dormant under a dark black sheet that I was led to believe to be a car in the works. He unraveled the tarp like a cape in the wind showing my father's car fully cleaned and fixed up. I couldn't help but gibber at the thought as he passed me the key. "I— I— I—", "I know," he responded. "Now you have a better shot at winning this, don't only win it for him, but also for you". Next thing I know I'm on the track in my father's car shaking from the engine recollecting in the memories where I used to sit in the passenger seat as Jack showed me the ropes to drifting and driving. I still remember the shrilly kickback the car induced when I stepped on the gas. Never thought I'd be behind the wheel of this erogenous vehicle. Light brines red, then yellow, then green, *GO*.

With such force I was propelled forward taking the lead. I hadn't had a game plan other than gaining the lead and keeping it but this is bliss drift mountain. Gauge is known for drifting, the only person who could possibly out pace dad in that category. The first turn we drift slowing down that last possible second, it was a little wide but managed to maintain the lead. Gauge follows close behind as we approach the on coming turns. Barely maintaining the lead Gauge soon overtakes me. With every drift he gets further and further away. By the halfway point it was clear he was going to win and I almost lost hope…until I saw dad in the stands spectating the race on the oncoming screens. He wore that smile he always wears when he's calm and collected, the face of a proud father. A voice over the intercom roars to life motivating the crowd in a roaring state "it's Jack Heart, can you believe it fans. But if he's here then who's driving his number"? Energy instantly rejuvenated me and I felt motivated. Sure I wasn't better than Gauge or my father but where they lack I progress in witt. Gauge sees the teleprompter and it throws him off in confusion giving me the opportunity I need to catch up, I recollected when he slowed down a bit his breaks for a drift. I mastered the timing in a matter of seconds and soon I was in his ass almost clipping the back of his number but he sooned regained his composure. As the fans stand to an uproar as we approach our final turn. If I don't overtake him here then this race is over. A thought occurred and I would have discarded it if not for the dire situation I'm in. It's all or nothing and if I fail I might end up in the hospital like my father.

If I fail, I'm sorry. As Gauge slowed I went on the outside for a wider drift, I can almost hear his voice "dumb move". That's when I risked it. Used every ounce of nitrous zooming passed him as we made eye contact through the visors. As this happens I overlap him and take the lead passing the finish line moments after, the crowd goes wild, jubilation filled me as they cheered in glee. I won, omg I actually won, I did it. "Unbelievable folks, what an amazing turn of events to the conclusion of one of the most magnificent races ever seen" the announcer screamed. "This one is going in the history book". At the winner circle Don and Howard shower me with praise I wasn't prepared for. Don, who is already in the process of picking me up, says "I knew you had it in you. Good job kid". A group hug initiated and I almost cried. Gauge walks up disappointed with a sad look on his face. "Hey, good race out there. You really proved yourself".
"Thank you, you are an excellent racer and you have good sportsmanship" I responded. We give each other a well respected handshake. "Make sure to come back next year for a rematch, I guarantee you it won't happen again". I smile "no promises". That's when dad walks up like a hero and a wide smile stretches from ear to ear. "I'm so proud of you" as he goes for a hug. That made my knees buckle and the tears I've been fighting back broke free from their restraints. "It's ok, let it out". I finally took off my helmet and everything stopped. Everything went quiet for what I can say was about a minute until the announcement broke the silence "ladies and gentlemen, I don't believe this. We were just informed that the contender racing in Jack's place is not only his kid, BUT HIS DAUGHTER! Who would have believed it folks, unbelievable". This only fed the audience's bliss. Dad, confused, asked "how did you play that off"?
"Oh me"? I shrug. "I always kept my helmet on and I equipped the helmet with a voice changer".
"You are my kid. Come here". We hugged.

Gauge comes back astonished. "I would have never known, if I did I would hav—"
"Gone easy on me"? I rebuttal. "Possibly but I see why you did it. Hey maybe I can get" he stops and coughs. "Get your number". I couldn't help but smile. "Oh, if you can beat me in a race".
"Us" dad intervenes. "Us in a race. I'll be damned if I'm left out of a good race".
"You're on," Gauge says. We exchanged information and he went on his way.

6 months later me and Gauge race down an airstrip looking at each other as we fight for the lead. I throw hand gestures his way to distract him with no avail. I even go to the point where I pretend to almost crash into him yet he does not flinch, he calls my bluff. As he slowly pulls away from me the sound of another car comes alongside us. It was Jack coming to occlude. We almost forgot about him then he makes a peace sign leaving us behind to catch up. The race ends with our competitive spirits clashing and end up going out for pizza. Life was pretty smooth sailing from here on out. Gauge refused to call my dad Jack and stuck with "old man" and it sorta stuck. As for Gauge and I. Well you can say our hearts are still racing together.
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