My Extension Story

Hahn’s heart skipped a beat during the gearshift from fourth to fifth. His face sent through the back of his skull as Troy firmly planted his foot to the firewall. Gripping the seat with his sweaty palms, Hahn smiled uncontrollably underneath his helmet as he watched Troy thread the turns as if the car were glued to the circuit.
As he walked up pit lane, Hahn’s nostrils were filled the familiar pungent scents of burnt tires and ethanol, his ears filled with the roar of Japanese tuner cars racing around the circuit while his eyes were firmly fixed on the Sutton Brother’s Nissan S15 sitting in their pit garage. “Who was that piece of shit driver you were out with?” asked a croaky voice from behind. Upon turning himself around, Hahn was met with the short, stubby and quite well known face of John Boston. “Troy, of course?” replied Hahn. “And who exactly is Troy, because if this ‘Troy character is to drive that badly again, I shall be speaking with the track marshal’s to have him removed from this circuit!” again said Boston. “Troy is my dad John, so you had better watch what you say”. . “That man isn’t your dad, the man was Asian, which explains the bad driving but let’s be honest, you look to have about as much Asian blood in you as a Holden Commodore” exclaimed Boston with a content smirk on his face.
With that sly racist remark, not only was Hahn ready to roundhouse kick Boston through the nearest cinderblock wall, Hahn knew he was yet again, going to have to explain his life story to another in complacent racist douche-bag that really wasn’t worth Hahn’s two cents. Troy wasn’t Hahn’s biological father, his ‘step father’ many would say, Hahn didn’t know his biological father, not that he couldn’t, it was just Hahn decided he didn’t want to know him. “I see, well just watch yourself on that track” and with that gesture from Boston, he was gone, as quickly as he had appeared.
Back in the garage, Hahn crawled back into Troy’s pride and joy, his royal blue Nissan