Page 14 of Knot So Fast
I'm deep in the race now, side by side with my gaming boyfriend—at least that's what I call him, though we've never met in person.
His username flashes on my screen:WolfPack_Alpha, which I've always found both mysterious and oddly attractive.
Mine readsSugarSpice_OmegaSpeed, a combination that usually gets me some interesting reactions in the gaming community.
"Coming up on sector three," his voice crackles through the headset, distorted by the voice modulation technology we both use. "You ready for this turn, Sugar?"
"Been ready since we started, Wolf," I shoot back, pressing harder on the accelerator as we approach the sharp chicane that's been the downfall of many racers. "Question is, can you keep up?"
The turn approaches fast—a brutal left-right combination that requires perfect timing and nerves of steel. I brake just slightly, feeling for that perfect moment when physics and skill align. The car responds beautifully, hugging the inside line as I navigate through the chicane with the kind of precision that comes from years of practice.
"Fuck!" His curse explodes through the headset as I see his car in my peripheral vision, spinning out of control.
He went too early, misjudged the braking point, and now he's paying for it as his virtual car slides off the track in a shower of sparks.
I can't help but cheer as I cross the finish line in first place, my heart pounding with the familiar rush of victory.
"And that's how it's done, baby!"
The final leaderboard appears on my screen: me in first, three other random players in second through fourth, and my gaming friend sitting in a disappointing fourth place on the global leaderboard.
"I hate you," he groans through the headset, but I can hear the amusement in his voice beneath the manufactured defeat. "That was a perfect line through the chicane. Where the hell did you learn to drive like that?"
"Natural talent," I tease, pulling off the VR headset and running my fingers through my hair. "Plus, I've got something you don't have."
"Yeah? What's that?"
"The killer instinct of someone who's got nothing left to lose."
There's a pause, and I wonder if I said too much.
We've been racing together for months now, but we keep our personal details pretty surface-level. He knows I'm an Omega living in Monaco, and I know he's from Croatia—which I find oddly coincidental since that's the same country Lucius is from. Sometimes I wonder if he has the same dirty blonde hair and those beautiful blue-green eyes that turn me on in ways I probably shouldn't admit to a virtual stranger.
Their voices are completely distinguished by the technology we use, so I can't even imagine what he really sounds like.
But I like to think it's deep and smooth, maybe with just a hint of an accent that would make my knees weak if I heard it in person.
"Want to hit the global playground?" he asks, breaking me out of my wandering thoughts. "Something more casual? I need to restore my wounded ego."
"Your ego will survive," I laugh, but I'm already navigating to the global racing room. "Fine, let's go play with the casual drivers. Maybe you'll actually stand a chance."
The global playground is exactly what it sounds like—an open racing environment where players from around the world can drop in and out of races, chat, and generally just have fun without the pressure of ranked competition.
It's my go-to when I want to relax and not think too hard about winning or losing.
We enter a lobby with about eight other players, their usernames floating above their virtual cars in a rainbow of colors and fonts.
The track loads—a street circuit that winds through a virtual version of Tokyo, complete with neon lights and towering skyscrapers that cast long shadows across the asphalt.
"Nice to have some company tonight," Wolf says as we wait for the race to begin. "Sometimes these random lobbies can be pretty toxic."
"Tell me about it," I mutter, adjusting my car's setup for the street circuit. "Being an Omega with 'Omega' right in my username tends to bring out the worst in some people."
As if summoned by my words, the voice chat crackles to life with the sound of some asshole clearing his throat.
"Well, well, well," comes a nasal voice that immediately sets my teeth on edge. "What do we have here? An Omega playing racing games?" The usernameAlphaDestroyer69appears next to the voice, because of course it does.
"Yeah, what's next?" another voice chimes in, this one belonging toDominantDick_42. "Omegas thinking they deserve to be on actual race tracks? They don't even exist in real racing for a reason."
