“Am I livestreaming from the passenger’s seat?” I asked. Considering the race was a literal marathon, it made sense that I’d ride along.
“Yep. It’s easier to have someone do it than just have my phone stuck to the dash.”
“Sounds good. Are you in it to win it?” I was curious about the stakes.
“I just want to win some money so we can party.” He shrugged. “Top racers get money, though some of the buy-in goes to charity or something.”
Oh, okay. That’s probably why the race was allowed. Even after midnight, Manhattan was still pretty busy.
“We’ll live it up regardless,” I promised. I’d planned on covering him, Fiona, and Saoirse on our trip anyway, since I’d invited them. Though my friend Dusty had arranged for our flight, villa, ski passes, and event tickets.
I took pictures of all the cars and sent them to Dusty. He was doing a show in Philly tonight.
Dusty
Where are you?
Me
Hale’s racing in Manhattan After Midnight. I’m along for the ride.
I sent him Hale’s racing channel, which wasn’t under his actual name, so his sisters didn’t lecture him about being reckless.
Something I understood, having three sisters who often told me to make good choices. As if on cue, one of my sisters texted. Anita and I were closest, even though she was eight years older.
Anita
At the airport. Be safe. Make good choices. I’m excited for the cruise, but low-key jealous of your trip.
My sister Anita and her pack were taking our mother on a two-week cruise for Christmas. This morphed into the rest of my family going with them.
Me
Have fun. I will party half-naked in the snow while eating cheese for you.
Anita
For the sake of whoever you’re sharing a room with, please go easy on the cheese.
Honestly, I’d been wanting to go to this music festival for years, but Christmas was a huge multi-day affair in my family. Them going away for the holidaysandDusty being a headliner at the festival?
Meant to be.
As we left the parking garage and lined up, Hale got on his phone and went live.
“Hey, it’s Hale-strom and I’m live from Manhattan After Midnight in New York City. Look at all these cars.” Hale panned his phone. “The race is about to start. My buddy C-Man’s going to take the camera. See you on the other side.”
I took the phone as engines revved. The race started and we sped off through the marked course. Thrills shot through me as we careened through the streets of New York. Going this fast through the city was a rare luxury. Also, dangerous.
Danger and I were good friends.
The city flew by in a cacophony of sounds and lights, people waving and taking photos of us as we sped by. The tracker gave us our positioning in the race compared to the other cars.
The route for the Merry-thon had been designed to have the least impact on traffic. Runners went through Roganfort Center–a massive performing arts complex. We couldn’t race our cars across the courtyard, so this route led through the parking garage.
“Fuck.” Hale moved to one side of the road, not stopping, barely avoiding another car as someone ran across the street, nearly getting hit, cars honking.
There should be barriers set up for the Merry-thon. The traffic lights and crosswalks were also being controlled to keep accidents from happening.
