The Dodge Charger sat quietly near the edge of the performance stage, its headlights flickering nervously. It blinked rapidly, trembling ever so slightly on its suspension—clearly overwhelmed by the crowd gathered to watch. Rows of humans and cars alike waited in anticipation, eager to inspect every curve, every spec.

But the Charger wasn’t ready.

It hesitated, its engine humming low like a nervous heartbeat. Then, with a soft mechanical whir, its voice module powered on. The sound was deep and raspy, like gravel wrapped in steel.

“—I don’t want to go up there… in front of everybody!” it said, voice cracking with anxiety.

The crowd paused, surprised by the vulnerability. The Charger’s headlights dimmed slightly, as if trying to hide its face.

It wasn’t just stage fright—it was fear of judgment. Of being seen too closely. Of not living up to expectations.

And yet, even in its hesitation, there was something endearing. A powerful machine showing its softer side. A reminder that even muscle cars have hearts.