Midnight Waltz - Midnight in Paris (Book 1)

Chapter 1 - Part 1

Chapter 1 - Part 1

- EYŞAN -

The Gemballa Hypercar and SSC Tuatara were revving down the road. No one had started the race yet, but this was just a show of strength. As the starter girls, we were standing by the track, chatting. The owner of the SSC Tuatara was eyeing us like a puma, probably picking one of us. The owner of the Gemballa had already chosen his girl. The girl sitting in the passenger seat wasn’t a must-have for street races, but sometimes she just became one, especially when one of the racers was the famous playboy Gustavo Auclair.

As Gustavo scanned us from head to toe, I turned away. I had hooked up with him once; I had no intention of making that mistake again. He was just one of those typical fools who thought he could own everything without question just because he had money. Everything was his, and it didn’t matter what it was. Besides... he was very rough.

He was a picarist. I would be happy if I saw his blood on my nails after scratching my man’s back. Being interrupted while working was never a fantasy of mine.

Anyway, he probably didn’t like me much either, so our one-night fling didn’t go anywhere.

I gathered my dark chestnut red waves with a scarf on top of my head and started scanning the people gathered by the roadside. Gustavo walked over to a girl wearing leather shorts, torn fishnet stockings, and a crop top. The girl had just started hanging around here. The main reason Gustavo probably chose her was that she was a fresh face. She was a petite girl in her early twenties. There had to be a reason for those high heels. Her long, straight black hair brushed her hips. She had closely set brown eyes, and it was obvious she had gotten a nose job. The overly sweet scent that spread from her made me wrinkle my nose, while the girl, who began grinning widely when Gustavo chose her, threw kisses to the crowd—mainly directed at the girls who wanted to get into Gustavo’s arms.

I turned my eyes to the cars and surveyed the drivers behind the steering wheels. As the girls slowly moved to the side of the road, I shifted my steel-like gaze back to the cars. The road was now covered in exhaust smoke. Walking like a model, I catwalked between the two cars and right into the middle. As the cars filled the street with smoke, a sharp, high-pitched whistle echoed. At the sound, I pulled the scarf from my hair and let it fall to my shoulders. When the cars zoomed past me at lightning speed, my scarf hadn't even hit the ground yet. With the wind from the cars, I freed my hair from my damp lips and let it fall messily down my back.

Looking back at the two cars leaving a trail of exhaust behind them, I walked slowly to the side of the road and saw Natt across the street. He had combed his wheat-colored hair back and was eyeing the girl next to him. The girl didn’t stand a chance. Natt was a very handsome man, but he was a bastard. His relationships were one-night stands, sometimes even just for hours. Plus, most of the things he did to make money... were illegal.

He was my roommate. Our eyes met. He gave me a salute with two fingers and winked, but kept talking to the girl next to him, as if he wasn’t interacting with me. I caught his salute in the air and, like everyone else, started shouting slogans and screams for the invisible cars as the music rose. Tonight, I was claiming the owner of the Gemballa, though I didn’t even know his name. So I just kept shouting "Gemballa!" Suddenly, I felt a man’s arm wrap around my waist. He wasn’t being clingy. There was another man with him, and he threw his other arm around the other man’s shoulder. Together, they shouted "Gemballa!" and whistled.

This crowd was the only gift my loneliness had given me. It was the only way I could meet new people and bond with them. As I put my hand around the man’s waist and got him to jump with me, I screamed without saying anything and added a color to the night’s harmony.

The noise of the cars' engines rose from the other end of the street, and the whistles grew louder. The music played in the background, and many, like the child next to me, had prepared colorful smoke bombs. The man pulled his hand away from my waist and prepared the smoke confetti. The car visible at the finish line was Gemballa. As the colorful smoke confetti floated into the sky, Gemballa's supporters began jumping and whistling, shouting victory cries. I joined them and started running toward Gemballa. A few people sprayed cheap champagne, soaking the celebrants. A man stepped out of Gemballa with a sharp jawline, full lips, a piercing on his eyebrow, and a small tattoo on his cheek, with a scary gaze. He gave a slight victory smile while biting his lip but maintained his silence and elegance. When the girl next to him started rubbing up against him, I thought, "I hope they don’t end up doing it here," because the girl seemed to have that kind of tendency.

Gustavo was driving into the street with no caution, just like the owner of the Gemballa. It seemed as if the street was empty. He was moving so smoothly, but no, there were plenty of people running away from the sliding car. As I bumped into the Gemballa, I glanced behind me to see its owner. His gaze briefly scanned me, but then he quickly stepped ahead and looked at Gustavo, who was sliding towards his car. Meanwhile, I took a few more steps back.

Gustavo's eyes darkened with anger. He slammed the door with such force that I felt the car shake. The girl who got out after him was running after him, while supporters began gathering behind Gustavo. Now, it was time for Gustavo, whether he wanted it or not, to hand over the SSC Tuatara's registration and keys. For someone who hated losing, this defeat was a heavy blow for Gustavo.

As Gustavo was handing over the registration and keys, a fire started in the middle of the street. This was an ordinary street in the ghettos of Paris. With its narrow, cracked roads, thieves, and downtrodden residents, the police would never even glance at this place. They would only come if undercover officers raided it or if a serious tip-off was received. Meanwhile, adventurous billionaires' spoiled children loved hanging out in this ghetto.

As the big show ended, the crowd began partying, pushing all boundaries. An old, dirty sofa on the side of the street was pulled in front of the fire. Normally, you would think it was infested with fleas or diseases and wouldn’t even go near it, but tonight, it was the throne of the Gemballa's owner. As the man settled into his throne, girls flocked around him. With incredibly loud music, alcohol, and the effect of cigarettes, couples began to engage in s****l activities as time went on. These scenes could be considered ordinary for a street race, but after accidentally seeing a couple in a secluded corner, my eyes began searching for Natt. This image was a sign that it was time to go home.

When the police sirens rose from the end of the street, the fire began to die down, and the party kids started running around in a panic. Naturally, I did too, but I had drunk way too much vodka, and my head was spinning. Plus, the high heels weren’t helping either. I was trying to move quickly, but it was making me nauseous, and Natt had probably already bolted by now.

I should have run, but I had no strength left to take a single step. I jumped into the nearest car and started waiting for the driver.

The owner of the Gemballa got into the car next to me, and when the door on my side opened, the man leaned over and slammed the door shut hard.

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Helloooo, I'm here with part 1 of the first chapter. How did you find it? I apologize for any awkward phrasing due to translation... But I'm doing my best, and I hope you like it. I look forward to your votes and comments 😘