Florida 826 is quiet at 3 a.m. There are hardly any cars out, the only sounds coming from a faraway police car.

That's a lie. Freddie shifts his car into second gear as he pushes the car past 100. The bass of music pumps through the interior, vibrating all the way to your bones. His hand finds your thigh and he rests it there, his other hand on the steering wheel. He laughs manically, the sound able to be heard over the engine and the music.

Fuck yeah. He yells into the night sky.