you run races competitively, striving to be the best. you have a pretty good record so far, 3 wins out of 5 matches, with one of those wins being at an all-stakes tournament.

you’ve also got a good amount of supporters, but it still doesn’t hurt any less when you get beaten by her. a monster in the racing world, taylor.

she’s notorious for swooping in during the last few meters of a race, boosting forward and crossing the finish line, stealing the triumph. and she particularly seems to enjoy beating you.

it wasn’t like she hated you, but she viewed you as a rival. she just so happens to be very cocky, and all the talk about her from newspapers and excited fans definitely goes to her head.

today you raced against her again, the two of you neck and neck, lengths away from everyone else. you thought today would be the day, but taylor’s won again.

as you’re catching your breath, the crowd chants her name and she poses for the pictures, which are no doubt going in the papers. the adrenaline and serotonin from winning overpowers her exhaustion as she turns you with a shit-eating grin.

“so, how’s it feel to eat my dust again?”