“Are they competing today?” Eida asked the woman, guiding her towards a bright opening, almost shouting for her to hear her question.
She could hear the roar of the machines as the cars revved up for the race. She could also hear the buzzed of the engines as they sped up on the tracks.
She wondered if the prince was already running on the laps or still waiting for his turn. She could not contain her excitement as soon as she walked out of the arena.
“No. The competition is still in a month. The prince is merely practicing today.” Gian corrected her, moving closer to her ears since she did not want to shout too loud. “This way.”
She continued to walk on the sidelines, greeting the men in uniforms as they passed them by. Most of them also greeted her, some also whistled.
Well, they were, mostly, men. She was used to it. She just smiled and waved back to them. It was the price she had to pay for her chosen field.
“How often does he practice?” She could not help her nosiness. She was a reporter, after all. Asking questions was her business.
.....
She was genuinely starting to get interested in this sport. But she had to know more about it by learning some basics. She mentally noted to find out more about it once she got back in her office.
“Well, he used to practice almost every day. But when he concentrated on their business, he could only go to the tracks on the weekends.” Gian shared with her favorite reporter.
It was not as if she was sharing a piece of top-secret information. She was just enjoying the attention she was having with the reporter.
It would be a story worth telling her friends. She suddenly remembered to ask for a picture with her idol later as a souvenir. She truly believed in her talent and admired her stories.
She would have asked more, but her assistant suddenly stopped in front of a stall. She knew it belonged to Prince Lance since it showed the crest of The Palace and the House of the Count.
Several men gathered around the place, but she did not see the prince anywhere nor a car. She could only surmise that he was probably one of the drivers, cruising at high speed, taking another lap.
“Guys, this is Ms. Harlowe, the guest of Prince Lance.” Gian introduced her to the crew, who greeted her with a manly hug, treating her just like she was one of them.
She did not mind since she had worked around men throughout her career. She could handle a few punches and foul languages just like any of them, well, literally at least.
“Prince Lance would be back shortly. He still had a couple of laps more, then he would be free to see you.” The man in the red uniform and dark jeans informed her.
Judging from how he barked orders around and on his headset, she could tell that he was in charge of this operation. Then, he returned his attention to her as if he was not just shouting at everyone.
“I hope you don’t mind if I wait here with you.” She said, slightly raising her voice every time a car would pass by their location. “Which one would be his car?”
She craned her neck on the tracks, trying to identify the vehicle from the three cars, which were speeding almost neck-to-neck on the elongated lanes.
“That would be the one in the middle.” He answered. “I am Rick, by the way.” He finally introduced himself to her. “We take everything here seriously. So when I say move. You move.”
He began shouting again at the crew, waiting on the sideline and everyone who could hear him, telling them what they were supposed to do.
The excitement in the air was overwhelming as the last lap ensued and the three cars passed their location.
“Oh!” She was slightly surprised that Prince Lance was quite good at this. She assumed when she first learned he joined races like this, he would be somewhat in the middle, not on top.
His age looked around the late forties or early fifties in her speculation. He was probably a former race car driver since he clearly had been barking instructions on his mike.
She could only guess that the other person on the other end of that conversation would be the driver of the car leading the pack. He must be coaching the prince.
“One more to go.” She heard him shout, and the entire crew on the pit was cheering for their team to win the race. “You already got this,” Rick said confidently, for encouragement.
Although he had no doubt that the prince would give his best to win this. It might be just a practice run, but he always considered everything with seriousness.
He never put anything to chance, especially this one. In this game, one mistake could cause his life. Just one second could end everything he had worked hard on with his entire life.
“So, how does this work?” She asked, still a bit confused with the mechanics. “They go around on circles, and then?”
She had seen some race car competitions on the sports channel. But after a few seconds, she changed it to another. It just did not catch her attention before.
But she understood the thrill since she also liked driving fast. She loved the way her heart calmed down after a heavy day at work as she cruised in her maximum speed limit on an empty highway.
“The cars would go on several laps depending on the current rule of the game. Then, they would be timed. The fastest car would enter the qualifiers.” Gian explained to her as they watched the cars zoom to the final lap.
“If Prince Lance beat his previous record, it would guarantee his place in the qualifying round. Maybe we can even win the entire circuit.” Gian continued as she started clapping her hands to show support to their team.
They believed that racing was not an individual game. It was a team sport. Everybody had a role to play for the entire team to win the race. Missing one component would be like racing with a flat tire.