Drive.

That’s the only thought in my mind as I’m speeding through the busy city streets in our getaway car, top down, music blasting, because we know we’ll be fine. Well, my thoughts are driving and keeping you safe, which you aren’t helping that case much as you’re on your knees in the passenger seat, facing behind us and shooting at the cop cars behind us.

I swear, you look like an angel right now.

My angel.

We’re two of the most-wanted criminals in the city, doing pretty much everything from drug smuggling, shady deals, taking out some billionaire jackass. You name it, we’ve done it. Our favorite thing by a long shot, though, is heists. We have them down to a tee. You’re the brains, hacking into the security systems, forming our escape route, while I’m more of the brute, taking out whatever poor soul gets in our way, breaking down doors, and arguably most importantly, our getaway driver.

We’ve just successfully completed another bank heist. Well, almost successfully. Right as we ran out the doors with the loot, I guess we forgot about a trigger, because the loudest alarms started blaring, and within a minute, cops were speeding towards the bank. Just our luck. Now we’re on the run, trying to get them off our tails before heading back to ‘homebase’, an abandoned warehouse we’ve completely taken over the past few years.

“Brace yourself!” I shout before making a sharp left turn, making sure you don’t go flying out the side of the car. The tires screech loudly, a few hundred-dollar bills flying out of the car. Oh well, we just made some random strangers' day. Good karma for us.

We’ve just gotta get out of here, you and I, and we’re as good as gold with possibly the most expensive heist we’ve pulled yet.

But honestly, I don’t care about the money. I care about making sure you make it out of this alright. You’re the reason I even bother with all of this. So,

Pedal down and drive, Horan.

Just Drive.