"I don't know why I agreed to this, you're a terrible driver!" Octavia shouted as her sister once again dodged cars while driving between lanes at nearly 130 mph. Fidelle merely laughed it off, giving her brand new black Corvette another burst of speed to outdistance a particularly speedy Cadillac coupe.
"Just chill, Tavs," her twin instructed calmly, looking at her sister over her sunglasses. By this point Octavia was clutching for dear life at the assist handles, or as she often referred to them in front of her sister, the "Oh shit" handles.
Fidelle turned onto a back street, and finally slowed down, no cars in front of them on the road ahead. Octavia was relieved, albeit confused about why she did not choose to speed up. Apparently, Fidelle only liked to go 50mph over the limit when there were witnesses. It was no wonder she got into so much trouble.
Just as the teenager started to relax and compose herself, a white and blue blur sped past, leaving behind a cobalt streak of light. Once again, she found herself grabbing the "Oh Shit" handles.
Vinyl had to hurry if she wanted to make it to the school before she was late. She hopped over the railing with a practiced leap and fell the three flights from the top if the stairwell to the bottom, grabbing onto the last railing just before hitting the ground. From that it was just a short foot and a half to the floor.
Opening a door, she walked into the large garage bellow her house, stopping to contemplate which vehicle would be the best choice.
She passed by her fathers Griffith without a second glance, as well as her mother's Ferrari 360. Those fancy little sports cars weren't to her liking at all, not to mention the fact that she was forbidden from touching them.
The rest of the vehicles in the garage were hers; a cherry red 1959 Cadillac, her Noble M12 (painted black with blue stripes), one of her personal favorites a silver Nissan GT-R, and her old 1957 Gullwing Mercedes Benz. None of these would work for her right now.
Laughing, Vinyl pushed a small button on the wall beside her. It slid down into the floor, and a light flicked on, illuminating her pride and joy, a glistening white motorcycle with accents the same color as her two-toned mop of hair. This was like no other motorcycle, mostly because she had it custom built by her friend, Austin Gears, otherwise known as the best engineer in the country, Gearshift.
She grabbed her sleek white windbreaker and matching helmet from their respective hooks, and put them on before mounting her beautiful bike. She rarely got a chance to drive the thing, and marveled at how comfortable the seat was.
With the push of the ignition, the bike whirred to life, sounding like something out of the future Heh...maybe this thing really is from the future...How cool would that be?
The teenager pulled her bike out of the garage, down the driveway, and out the front gates of Staccato Manor. As she passed by, a few of the cleaning staff waved to her.
"See ya, Luke!" she shouted at the guard manning the stately golden gates as they closed behind her, a loud metallic ringing announcing the lock being slid into place.
From there it was only a few minutes down the road until the highway that would eventually lead to her high school. She had arranged for Henry to meat her there with her truck in only ten minutes, and if she wanted to be there on time for once in her teenage life, she had to haul ass.
The turn off of Staccato road loomed up ahead, and as soon as she made it around the corner onto the empty back roads of highway 7, Vallarie smiled deviantly and looked down at her dashboard. She was already over the speed limit, but at this rate, she wouldn't make it.
Her thumb rested on a little blue button, and as she pressed down the loud wailing sound of her bike signaled the feeding of the beast. And it was hungry.
She braced for the kickback as her sleek white motorcycle accelerated, leaving a streak of cobalt in its wake. Not only that, but as an added touch Austin had somehow with some amazing wiring Vinyl hadn't even known possible, created the effect of all DJ-PON3's skill with dubstep in one simple device he dubbed the Bass Cannon.
Magic and NOS mixed together in her engine to further the capabilities of this machine, producing her own loud soundtrack that trailed behind her in the most epic way imaginable to this DJ's ears. It was like riding down a highway of sound that just kept getting better. Highway of Sound...That's a great name for my next album! DJ-PON3, you have done it again...
Lost in her own inner ramblings, Vinyl almost didn't have time to react as a black Corvette sped along at a fairly slow pace in front of her, almost causing a collision that was sure to be deadly at least to the small woman on her Bass Cannon, as she had just decided to name it.
A sharp turn got her into proper position to pass the seemingly sluggish car, and as she looked over her shoulder she almost crashed from sheer shock. There, sitting in the passenger seat nearly scared to death, was the most breathtaking girl Vinyl had ever beheld. And from the quick glance, it had appeared that she had her twin sister driving her, but at the speed the rule-breaking teen was travelling, she could not be sure.
I have to find out who she is.