A catchy guitar riff carries through the air, filling the relative silence of the outside service area.
Making a mental note to add whatever song is playing to your mix later, you work a tool in sync with the song rhythm.
Crrk, crrk, crrk
Another bolt on the steering wheel tightened, leaving 3 more to go.
This... is weird.
Well, not the fact that you're working on your car, but rather the fact that you aren't doing something else, given your location.
Leaning forward, you kneel on the seat, allowing your back to rest.
Your mind is still processing the events of the morning. It actually hasn't been all that different from your normal championship routine in terms of the events: Arrive, meet with the head of town, have a press conference, leave early to dodge the other teams from dragging you off to a bar or some other establishment, wait for the engineers to set up the work station and get to fine tuning your machine for the challenge ahead.
Everything was the same... except completely different, due to the presence of magical, talking horses.
Chatting to Mayor Mare has probably been one of the most surreal experiences you've had in your life, and the press conference went by in a daze as you tried to comprehend the mess of human telivision crews mixing with the pony reporters, who were rocking neck-mounted cameras that looked like they came straight from the 90s.
How they operated them was still a mystery, though it didn't give you much pause compared to the time you picked off a newspaper to read what the local press thought about you, only to have the black and white picture suddenly come alive and play out as if it was a youtube video.
Jesus, you are in a different world, A DIFFERENT WORLD!
That realisation was just starting to hit home.
Magic is real here, there are unicorns and pegasi, you even heard that a super powerful sorceress was responsible for moving the sun! There's so much to explore: food, history, even the basic workings of this world are probably completely different from your own.
So much to explore, but what were you doing?
Crrk, crrk, crrk
Oh, you know the answer to that question. You would have all the time in the world for tours and interviews once you've won this championship.
Up until this point you took pride in your statistically impossible win streak, but this was completely different. You woudn't just be getting a shiny cup to sit on your shelf, you would be writing history! Years after your time has passed, people and ponies would remember your name with reverence and joy. Young girls and boys will watch the footage, which by that point would be considered ancient, and marvel at your skill.
Maybe one of them would turn to their parents and say "One day, I will be just like that!"
And maybe they will not forget that promise.
Years later, having trained day and night, they will step onto the track and let off the breaks, speeding through corners and bumps, shaving off precious seconds until the beep of the finish line tracker announces the final result. And then, the record that you will set in the next two weeks would finally be broken.
The reporters would swarm the car and the driver, stepping out, would raise their hand to shush the crowd. Looking off into the distance, they would proclaim that all this time they were following in the footsteps of a legend, the one who all those years ago showed off what can be achieved with proper dedication, what beautiful dance can come as a result of true synergy between man and machine and how-
A tap on your shoulder snaps you out of the daydream.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't the lord of the road soundly sleeping in his lair again"
"Ah, Paul" You greet your team's manager "I'm not in any trouble, am I?"
"With how popular you are right now, you could probably blow up Malaysia without getting into trouble" The older man replies with a chuckle
Turning around, you force the most sour and judgemental look possible
"Do not ever try to reference memes again, especially when speaking"
Trying and failing to look hurt by your words, Paul covers his mouth with his hands
"That bad?"
"That bad" You reply, turning back to resume your work "Now, for real, what do you need? I don't believe you walked all the way here just to share your knowledge of the internet culture"
There were a couple seconds of silence before you got an answer.
"Just... Wanted to come check up on you. The team's having lunch and you haven't come out of service for a good two hours now"
Ah, here it is. You seemingly have this conversation every tour, so you have your response set out.
"Paul, you know I don't like eating with your team. Since I started getting the special treatment as a star, they haven't been all that friendly. And I know, it's all just banter and yadda yadda yadda, but I prefer my meals to be a time of quiet contemplation. Did I miss anything?"
You can practically see him shake his head as he gives his answer "Well, you forgot to include the date of when your talent got recognised, but apart from that you covered it all"
Well, at least he now accepts your point without arguing. Swapping out your tool for a different one, you can't help but notice the fact that he still hasn't walked away. You knew for a fact that he couldn't sneak in dress shoes - the hard wooden heels made too much noise, which meant that he currently was just standing there in the workshop, watching you work.
You were about to ask if he wanted anything else, but before you could...
"Your co-driver quit"
The roll cage revebrated with a low hum, a result of you smacking the back of your head into it as you tried to stand up to full height without exiting the vehicle. Ignoring the pain, you clamber out and stand face to face with your manager.
"Paul I swear, if this is a joke I will-"
You don't get to finish your sentence as he affirms, looking you right in the eyes.
"It is not a joke. She retired from the event, and you know exactly why"
There were so many words you wanted to say, so many rebukes to throw out, but you just clenched your eyes shut and slid down the side of your car. You did know exactly why and you knew that this would have been a problem, but you had no idea just how serious it would be.
A sudden spark of rage goes off in your mind. This was ridiculous! Incomprehensibly stupid! Something was up, either meddling from the opposing teams or just blatant betrayal, there is no way that... No, no.
It was a real problem. You have experienced it yourself when you admitted to liking unicorns - weeks of jokes, pranks and gossip from nearly every single member of your team. It started off innocent, but got worse and worse until the point you actually considered retiring from motorsport altogether.
With the developments in the last months and this championship being announced...
It must have been hell on earth for her.
With that thought echoing in you mind, you look up to the spare chassis parts on the wall opposite to you. There, on the front wheel arches, were two lines of text. The top line was occupied by your racing pseudonym, while on the bottom line sat the name of your now ex co-driver.
J. Horsey
"Hey, it's not all bad news"
You practically teleport into a standing position at hearing those words.
"Not all bad news? NOT ALL BAD NEWS?! Paul, do you understand what's happening? I literally can't go on stage, and even if I could, we can forget about anything but the last position. Any co-driver, even a mute co-driver would be better than..."
Your voice trails off, as you look at the grin your manager is giving you.
"I know, I know, and that's why I already sorted out a replacement"
Well, working with a new co-driver is far from ideal, but you could at least enter the competition and pick up some points while the higher ups tried to get Horsey back.
"Who?"
Somehow his grin grows even larger, as he takes a hold of a tyre rack by his side and pushes it away.
There, on the tarp floor of your workshop stands a yellow horse.
Having been exposed, it shrinks to the floor and hides behind it's pink mane.
You look at it.
Then at Paul.
Back to it.
And back to Paul, who's slowly backing away.
Extending your index finger, you point at it and open your mouth to speak, but having found no words, you close it again.
"Well, I'll leave you two to get to know each other"
It isn't until the other man disappears from view that you regain your ability to speak.
"Hey, Paul! PAUL! COME BACK HERE!"
The only response you get is the sound of quickly retreating footsteps.
No, no, no, this can't be happening. Come on, think, there needs to be something you can do...
Maybe you should just follow Horsey and retire? No can do, this is a once in a lifetime opportunity and you can forget about being signed by any high-profile team following a stunt like this.
Maybe you can just roll with it? Ah, but the media will put you through a meatgrinder. Between your previous and new co-drivers, you are going to become the topic of ridicule far beyond the motorsport discipline you compete in.
Ugh, come on brain, work for just a bit today!
"Um, excuse me mister, are you doing alright? You look a little bit pale..."
Oh that's right, time doesn't stop while you think, does it?
Right now, pull yourself together, you've worked with Paul for a good couple years and although he likes to make decisions on short notice, you can't deny that it saved your skin multiple times. At the very least you aren't going to get disqualified due to lack of staff on the team, so breathe in, breathe out and talk to the horse.
"I am... perfectly fine, just... still getting used to the local culture"
Nailed it.
"Oh, that's good. I would have felt terrible if I scared you, even if it was by accident"
Hm. Her voice is surprisingly nice. It doesn't make talking to a non-human any less weird, but still.
Right, where were you again? Ah yes,
OH MY GOD THIS IS BAD, REALLY REALLY BAD, IT DOESN'T MATTER WHAT YOU DO FROM HERE ON OUT, EVERYTHING ENDS IN A LOSS!
Wait okay, okay, you need to do something and do it quickly...
Aha, Idea! Start a rally school, right now, in this town. You have about 2 hours, so you'll have to speed a class through the co-driver course in one and a half hours, condense the 4 months of required experience into a 20 minute drive, and hire the best performing student! This is an absolutely flawless plan and OH MY GOD, WHO ARE YOU KIDDING THERE IS NO GETTING OUT OF THIS!
Looking up, you once again focus on your new co-driver. Now that you are feeling calmer, you can see that your initial assesment of "horse" was, in fact, incorrect.
Folded close to her body, are two wings which camouflage themselves against her coat colour. Your brain picks out a memory - a short segment from a documentary on Equestria, which went over the basics of this world. The pegasi were commonly considered as the most athletic pony race, which hopefully meant that your new companion had at least some experience with high speed competitions.
"Sooo... Since we are going to be working together, we should probably introduce ourselves" You mutter, prompting two yellow ears to swivel in your direction
"Um, yes... That would be fair..."
"Right then, I'm-"
You stop yourself right as you were about to let your name slide out. Remember, this is only temporary, while the management finds a proper replacement. The last thing you want is for this stuff to follow you home and into your personal life. Better to stick to your tried and tested racing pseudonym.
"...Anonymous. People call me Anon"
"Oh, that's a very interesting name. I don't think I have ever met a pony with it"
The silence started to build, as you tried to establish eye contact with the pegasus.
"So, uh... I never got your name"
"Oh..."
She sheepishly rubbed one of her front legs over the other. You guess this would be like crossing your arms for a human?
"I'm... um..."
Wow, this is taking a long time. You're no stranger to awkward introductions but for real now, it's not that hard to introduce yourself, is it?
"My name is... Fl- Fluttershy"
Alright, thank god that's done.
"Nice to meet you... Fluttershy"
Like all other pony names you've encountered so far, it felt weird to say but you weren't about to discuss it, in case it's considered a taboo or something like that.
"What do you say, we go have some lunch?" Thinking about the customs of this place made your brain slde into the 'dealing with press and important people' mode, which at the very least made talking easier.
"A- Alright"
Picking yourself up, you head for the mobile dining hall, your new co-driver following you close behind.
Precisely 1 millisecond after you reached your destination, throwing the loose piece of tarp playing the role of a door aside, the entire hall exploded into cheers, laughs and whistling. Rubbing your eyes while you moved to the food station, you ignored the noise to the best of your ability.
This was going to be a long championship.