While the rest of the Underground world was still frozen on the montum of Blacklist his insane win, Nash stood there, sweating bullets over sothing way worse, a fucking giant door.
The place in front of him? Not a driving school, hell no. The Edison Elite Automobilist looked like so rich bastard’s private airport.
Polished steel gates, spotless concrete, grass so dark and perfect it looked fake, because it probably was. Victoria had to pull strings, pay sothing, maybe even threaten a few people to get him in here.
Because down where Nash ca from? Learning to drive was like walking into a fight. The examiners? They’d drag their feet, smirk at you, then straight-up ask for a bribe before they’d even think about passing you. And if you were stupid enough to flash real money? You’d be lucky if all they did was rob you blind.
Nash adjusted his jacket, black and silver, tight across his shoulders, as he stepped toward the gates. The scanner beeped when he slid his card through, polite as fuck, like this place had manners. He took a deep breath, tasted the clean, expensive air, and walked in.
anwhile, the whole money situation in Blacklist was changing fast because of the Raptors win, and it was shaking up how things worked for the team. For months, they’d been using Hangar 47 as their base, this giant old warehouse that slled like rust, old rubber, and sweat that never really dried.
It was ssy but it worked, until suddenly all these companies wanted to sponsor them after that crazy hundred-point win.
Down on the practice court, the sound of the ball hitting the hardwood echoed off the tal ceiling as Nia, Jaz, and Alicia finished their drill, breathing hard.
Alicia plopped down on a bench, wiping her face with the bottom of her jersey. Her boobs bounced a little since she wasn’t wearing a bra under her tight crop top.
"Wait, Jaz," she said, still panting. "Tell exactly what Dahlia said. Like, the actual numbers. Don’t ss around."
Jaz stretched her long arms against the weight rack, yawning big before answering.
"It’s insane, okay? I didn’t get it at first either, but..." Another yawn cut her off.
Nia smirked from her spot on the mat, watching Jaz’s sleepy face.
"Dude, why you yawning like a pregnant cat? Pulled another all-nighter?" she said, kicking her legs up.
Jaz rubbed her cheek, looking embarrassed.
"Uh... Miko and I were up till four arguing about that new ani. The main character’s transformation was trash and she wouldn’t shut up about the bad voice acting."
Alicia and Nia both froze, then turned to stare at each other.
"Hold up," Alicia said. "You’re texting Miko now? Since when are you two besties?"
Jaz’s face got red.
"Its... complicated... She’s actually cool once you talk to her! She’s pretty nice, and she knows so much about our stuff... And her husbandos’ choices are almost as good as mi..." She caught herself and cleared her throat. "A-Anyway! Dahlia said Vanguard sothing wants for their shoe ads, because I wrecked the Raptors’ defense or sothing like that. Big money. Like, really, really big money."
Nia flopped onto her back.
"Big money... like... big big money?"
Jaz nodded, Nia’s eyes beca full of stars.
"Holy shit, you’re gonna be rich!" she yelled, grinning but also kind of jealous. "You totally deserve it though."
Jaz’s eyes got brighter.
"That’s not even everything. Dahlia told that once the contracts are signed, our whole team gets raises. Nash talked to Victoria to make sure we got paid right."
Nia’s face softened at Nash’s na. That guy wasn’t just carrying them in gas, he was changing their whole lives upsidedown. Nia used to be stuck in the worst job, until Nash showed up, fucked her brains out, and handed her a new path.
Now look at them, Jaz was about to move out of her shitty apartnt, and Nia wasn’t so desperate girl anymore. She was hungry for more.
Alicia twirled one of her orange twintail, thinking.
"We won’t have to check prices at the store anymore," she murmured. "Maybe get a place that doesn’t sound like a broken vacuum."
Jaz shifted on her feet, her thick thighs rubbing together.
"I was thinking..." She scratched her cheek, looking away. "We could call the Baby-Boom girls and Nash to that restaurant we talked about yesterday. And then... you know. Celebrate like last ti."
Nia and Alicia burst out laughing at Jaz’s obvious horny hint about their locker room orgies.
"You just wanna get wrecked again, huh?" Nia teased, tossing a towel at her.
Alicia pulled out her phone, scrolling fast.
"Speaking of Baby-Boom, they’re killing it too. They’re on a two wins straight." She turned it off, eyes blazing. "But no way I’m letting them pass us. We’re stepping up training now. Co on, girls!"
All three nodded, bouncing back onto the court with that sa fire, ready to be unstoppable with Nash leading them.
A few days had passed since, Nash had been taking his driving lessons at the academy consistently, his diligency helping him master the vehicle chanics with ease.
As he walked out of the glass terminal, adjusting the collar of his black-and-silver Blacklist jacket, a small group of wealthy Upperworld girls stopped talking near the main gate.
There was a tall, tanned girl wearing a silky top that probably cost more than most people’s rent, and a blonde girl in so fancy designer dress that hugged her hips just right.
They stared at Nash like he was so kind of rare animal, whispering fast behind their hands. To these spoiled rich kids, a guy like him, built like a fighter, from the dirty parts of the Underground, was like fresh at in their boring little world.
The tanned girl elbowed her friend, eyes lighting up.
"See? I told you it was him," she said, dragging out her words like rich people do. "That jacket, that walk. That’s definitely Nash Blaze. The one from the streams."
Before Nash could even make it to the sidewalk, the group moved without even thinking, sliding right into his path. The air slled like perfu, expensive, the kind you only get from those tiny bottles with foreign nas.
"Hey," the tanned girl said, stepping right in front of him and staring up with dark, interested eyes. "You’re Nash Blaze, right? The guy who wrecked the Raptors’ whole lineup on live TV? My big brother lost, like, a million credits betting against you last Tuesday. Seriously, that was the craziest shit I’ve ever seen on the network."
Nash let out a low laugh, totally calm, like none of this surprised him.
"Guilty as charged," he said. "Tell your brother I’m sorry about his wallet."
The group giggled, clearly loving how he didn’t even flinch.
"Oh, he’ll live," the blonde girl cut in, pulling out her shiny gold phone. "But can we get a picture? And your phone number, maybe? Everyone online’s freaking out trying to figure out where you train."
Nash tilted his head, grinning sharp.
"And what’re you gonna do with that info?"
The tanned girl smirked, stepping closer.
"A guy like you should hang out with people who get how good you are," she said, voice playful. "We can show you the nice spots up in the Spires. You can’t just live in those sweaty gyms forever, right? What do you even do when you’re not playing?"
"The gym’s where the work gets done," Nash said, grinning just a little. He wasn’t the kind of guy to get nervous around anyone, so his words ca out way too easy. Didn’t even need to check the system to land verbal critical hits.
"But I’m free after today," he added. "But only if you think you can keep up with ." He smirked. "The way I do things, on the court, off the court, it’s not exactly what you’d call chill. It can be... pretty intense. So yeah, watch out for addiction."
The blonde girl gasped, her cheeks turning pink so fast it was like soone had flipped a switch. She lifted her phone, fingers tapping quick to snap a picture of him standing there all confident.
"Oh, please," she said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "We can take whatever you’ve got, big guy. Just don’t leave us hanging too long."
Nash shrugged like he didn’t care, but his fingers moved fast as he typed his number right into their phones.
"We’ll see," he said, calm as anything, like he wasn’t even fazed.
A few feet away, two guys in fancy blazers leaned against a sleek car, faces annoyed like they’d bitten sothing sour. One of them muttered.
"Look at this nobody. Thinks he’s hot shit just ’cause he got famous for a week."
The girls didn’t even notice them, too busy watching Nash.
Then the other girl, the one with the dark eyes, leaned in close. Her lips, all glossy and red, pressed hard against his cheek, and when she pulled back, the lipstick stain was perfect, like she’d planned it.
Then, slow as anything, she curled one hand into a tight circle, the kind of gesture you definitely wouldn’t make in front of your parents, while her tongue dragged over her top lip.
"Call us after your ga, Nash," she said, voice low. "Trust , you’re gonna wanna say yes."
Nash gave her a smirk and nodded, then turned toward the curb where Victoria was waiting in that black Aethelgard Spectre, its engine rumbling low.
He slid into the passenger seat. Victoria didn’t take off her sunglasses, hands steady on the wheel, but Nash could see the smirk on her lips.
"Enjoying the high life, Blaze?" she asked. "Already got the Upperworld girls marking you up like so prize stallion. You really do like problems, don’t you?"
"It’s the problems that like ," Nash said easily, stretching his legs out in the spacious seat. "How’s the license coming?"
"Faster than expected," Victoria admitted, shifting gears as the car smoothly rged into traffic. "That’s what happens when you pay the academy prices. And since you learn fast, your special permit is getting pushed through early, the examiner already cleared you."
She slowed the car as they reached the highway.
"But the license doesn’t matter tonight. The Crimson Talons match is everything. The Underground’s streaming this live, everyone’s watching. I want you to make a statent."
Nash grinned, fire burning in his eyes as he looked at the neon-lit tunnels ahead.
"Relax. I’ll give them exactly what they paid to see."
Then he smirked, tilting his head back against the seat.
"And this ti? I won’t be the only one doing the work."
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