Chapter 2 - Chaos In Motion
957 Words
Tiana’s POV:
Music blasted through the car, loud enough to drown out everything else.
Exactly how I liked it.
I was playing Decepton by Tigre.
Such a catchy song, I can't even lie.
The bass hit deep, vibrating through the steering wheel and straight into my chest as I sped through the streets of Manhattan like the rules didn’t exist.
Because honestly, they didn’t.
At least not for me.
But for every other psychopath out there.
The night air rushed in through the opened window, cool against my skin, tangling my hair as the city lights blurred past in streaks of gold and white.
Fast.
Loud.
Free.
I laughed, one hand loose on the wheel, the other tapping against the door in rhythm with the music.
This was living.
Not whatever version my father kept trying to force on me.
My phone lit up on the passenger seat.
I didn’t even need to check.
I grabbed it anyway.
"Talk to me."
“Tell me you’re not doing something stupid right now.” Logan said immediately.
I smirked. “And what if I am?"
“Tiana.”
“Relax.” I said, taking a turn a little too fast. “I’m just driving.”
“Yeah, that’s exactly what I’m worried about.”
“You worry too much.”
“You don’t worry enough.”
“Well." I said simply.
He sighed. “Where are you even going?”
I glanced ahead, barely focusing. “…Nowhere.”
“That’s not a place.”
“It is for me.”
“Tiana—”
“Logan,” I cut in, smiling, “live a little.”
“I like living. That’s why I avoid getting in cars with you.”
“Rude thing to say.
“True.”
I rolled my eyes. “You love me.”
“Debatable.”
I gasped. “Wow. Fake friend.”
“Very.”
I was about to reply when another call came in.
My smile faded instantly.
Dad.
Of course.
Logan noticed the silence. “What happened?”
“…He’s calling.”
“Oh.”
That one word said everything.
“Pick up.” Logan added.
“…Yeah, like I don't know what to do.”
The call switched.
“What?” I said.
No greeting. No softness.
“Tiana,” my father’s voice came through, sharp and controlled. “Where are you?”
“Out.”
“I can hear that. Where exactly?”
“Why does it matter to you?”
“It matters because you’re my responsibility.”
I scoffed. “That’s funny, dad.”
“This wasn't a joke.”
“It never is with you, you're boring.”
Silence.
Then—
“You were seen earlier.”
I frowned. “Doing what?”
“Driving recklessly. Again.”
I smirked. “Define recklessly.”
“Speeding. Ignoring signals. Drawing attention.”
“Wow. It’s almost like I was driving.”
“Tiana.”
There it was.
The warning.
I didn’t care.
“You act like I committed a crime.”
“You will if you keep this up.”
“Relax. I’m fine.”
“That’s not the point.”
“It’s always the point.”
“No,” he snapped slightly. “The point is you don’t think before you act.”
“Oh well, guess who I learnt that from? You!”
"You're insufferable, tee."
"You don't think before you breathe."
“That’s called responsibility.”
“That’s called being boring.”
A pause.
“You need to start taking things seriously.” he said.
“There are consequences.”
“Then deal with them yourself, don't involve me.”
“Tiana—”
“I’m not a child.”
“You act like one.”
I smiled, but there was no humor in it. “And you act like I belong to you.”
“You’re my daughter.”
“Exactly. Not your project.”
Silence again.
Heavy.
"The last time I checked, you have your life and I have mine."
“You’re pushing your limits." he said.
"Every damn time dad."
"Can you stop being such a child?!"
“You’re pushing my patience.”
“Tiana.”
I pulled the phone away.
“As much as I love you dad, I hate the conversations we have."
“I'm done."
And I hung up.
Just like that.
No hesitation.
I tossed the phone onto the seat and exhaled.
“…God, you know, most times, I hate that man with my guts, ugh." I groaned.
The music filled the space again.
Louder now.
Or maybe I just needed it louder.
I pressed harder on the accelerator.
The car surged forward.
Faster.
The lights blurred into streaks.
Everything moving.
Everything spinning.
Everything—
mine.
I smiled again.
Because this felt right.
No control.
No rules.
Just me.
I glanced at the phone again.
Then back at the road.
Then away—
just for a second.
That was all it took.
Headlights.
Too close.
Too sudden.
My eyes snapped forward.
“Wait—”
I slammed the brakes.
The tires screamed against the road, sharp and violent, cutting through everything.
Time didn’t slow down.
It sped up.
Too fast to think.
Too fast to react.
Impact.
The force slammed into me, throwing me forward as the airbag exploded against my chest, knocking the breath out of me instantly.
Everything stopped.
The music.
The movement.
The world.
Silence.
Heavy.
Thick.
I sat there, frozen, hands gripping the wheel as my chest rose and fell too quickly.
My ears rang.
My head spun slightly.
But I was awake.
I blinked slowly, staring ahead at the damage.
“…Oh…”
My voice came out quiet.
Barely there.
“…shit.”
- Writer
