At The Aros Garage

Demi drove her defeated Honda back into its rightful garage, parking. This was midday, or at least seemed like it, a yellowish sky, low sunlight. This garage was "neatly junky," with boxes, engine parts, tools and other random car maintanance junk in it, aside from the other cars, which were like hers in that they were decorated, but in a somewhat classy way. It read in big letters "AROS" above it, with those two funky dot things over the "O". She got out, slamming her door shut once again and running her hands- which were still gittery over the loss- through her hair. Her passenger got out as well, smiling as if he were some kid who was just told a big secret. He looked like he wanted to burst. Demi stared at him- it took everything within her to keep from hauling on him, besides the fact that King, Team Aros boss, stood there, watching them. He wore this leather trench, fitting yet loose dark jeans and a white dress shirt, wearing had dirty blonde hair and a beard of stubble that didn't seem ever to go away, nor did he want it to. He had to be at least 45 and yet he didn't act or seem it one bit. He'd been waiting there for Demi for at least ten minutes. To most, being ten minutes late was passable, but not to King. He was running one of the most elite racing teams in the US, not some goody two shoes law firm out in Missouri somewhere.

"Hard day at the office?" King asked, walking towards her.

"Yeah," Demi answered, twisting her mouth as she said it matter-of-factly, giving off the attitude formerly given to Akina.

"Lemme guess," he said, standing in front of her, for intimidation purpose. With every word that then proceeded to flow from his mouth her attitude grew more "in check".

"You- wound up in a race- to some girl in a dressed up Nissan- and you lost. So, you were late because you got stuck in traffic because you were busy pouting."

Demi was taken aback.

"Have I got that right?" he added.

"Yeah," she answered, but this time as though she knew who she was talking to.

"No excuse. Here. Six thirty. Not seven," King said, then walked away.

"But I'd really like to meet this girl," King replied, looking up at her.

"Do you have any idea where we can find her?" he asked.

"I can look," Demi answered, mad as hell all over again. She turned back around to her car, this time leaving Korean wonder boy. She started her engine, then looked at King, who stood next to her car.

She couldn't believe it. One little face-off against this unrestrained street racer and now her boss wanted to sign another girl on. King leaned over into her window.

"Believe it," he said, then stood back up as Demi peeled out.