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My eyes move to where Axel stands. His dark eyes look almost bored as he responds to questions in what I’m sure are short, direct answers. He doesn’t flirt with the camera. He doesn’t say all the right things. I highly doubt his agent, Cash, lectured him before the race about what to say in his interview and definitely won’t remind him about it later, like mine did and will.
My agent banks on my good behavior. Cash banks on Axel’s wildcard factor. We are not the same.
His role, in my opinion, is much harder. He has to leave them wanting more. He doesn’t flirt and get to be cute. He has to push the limits. His job is to make them hate him so much they tune in to see him.
It makes no damn sense to me, but he’s mastered it. They can’t get enough of him.
The marketing team has spent so much time and money on making us the ultimate good versus evil story. The race between the bad boy and the pretty boy is on.
Who will win this epic showdown?
Only time will tell.
2
AXEL
I watch Sebastian Harris walk back to his trailer to change, my eyes tracking him far longer than they should, before I look back into one of the many cameras pointing my way. I can’t believe that fucker got past me.
I had him.
I so fucking had him, and then, at the last second, he managed to slip right past me and over the finish line. It’s eating at me as I stand here and answer the hundreds of questions lobbed at me.
The answer to them all is that I don’t give a flying fuck.
And while I do get by with a lot, saying fuck on the air wouldn’t go over all that well. I’d have to pay a damn fine and maybe even apologize. Who the hell has time for that shit?
I’ll save it for the next time someone really pisses me off on the track and I decide to settle it with fists. Which—whether they want you to believe it or not—is allowed because it’s good TV. The audience waits for two things during a race—a wreck or a fight. Who the winner of the actual race is, no one really gives a damn about but the racers.
The audience—they’re out for blood.
Most of the reporters, with their microphones shoved in my face, annoy the ever-loving shit out of me. But there’s one I don’t ignore when she holds up the microphone, her red fingernails on display, and her lips turned up in a smirk. “Always playing dirty, huh, Axel?”
“Now Leslie, that doesn’t sound like me,” I flirt shamelessly with my agent’s wife, a woman who I know later will likely have my balls if I push her too far during an interview. But she’s the only one in the media I’ve found not to be totally full of shit. Yeah, she likes to bait me. But she knows what she’s doing, and she goes for the jugular like none other.
I respect Leslie, and I know the feeling is mutual. “Right. That was a dangerous maneuver on the last lap.” Ah, the mama bear is coming out. She has a soft spot for Sebastian. Always has.
“Apparently not dangerous enough,” I shoot back, and I see the hint of a wicked smile on her face. She’s gonna get me back for that.
“Well, second place is good, but we all know you wanted that win. How do you feel about not getting what you wanted, Axel?” she asks, and I want to be pissed, but like I said, I respect her. All the other reporters have done nothing but kiss my ass. Leslie bows to no one.
“Aw, come on, Leslie. Don’t break my heart and tell me you’re a secret Sebastian Harris fan.”
Her eyes meet mine, deadly serious, but light enough not to go too off brand. “No secret about it.” No, there definitely isn’t. Everyone falls for that angelic, innocent act.
And believe me, it’s an act.
“Ouch. I’m wounded,” I deadpan. Then Leslie signs off, ignoring my antics before the cameras leave, and it’s just me and my agent, Cash, walking back to my trailer.
“You know, Leslie will get hate thrown at her after that shit.”
Yeah, my fanbase is rabid as fuck. Team Sebastian? They’ll tear her apart.
“Leslie can handle herself. And besides, she started it.”
“You in kindergarten now?” he shoots at me, and I grin, a slow, easy, genuine grin because I like Cash. And he also isn’t worried about Leslie. She doesn’t need to be taken care of.
“I fucking wish I was in kindergarten. My biggest worry then was trying to stay awake during naptime so I didn’t miss the movie.”
