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Peter hit the road, leaving behind the car lot and a frustrated Sam Witwicky sulking in his new, old blue sedan…
The purr of Bumblebee's engine was music to his ears as he navigated through the city streets, the Camaro's wheels gliding smoothly over the pavement.
High above, hidden within the thick cover of clouds, Peter's ship silently followed, keeping pace with him as it remained cloaked from the world below.
As he drove, Peter's mind was already at work, trying to find a secluded spot where he could safely bring Bumblebee aboard his ship and return to the Red Room. He wasn't too familiar with the city, but the outskirts would surely offer a good location—someplace far from prying eyes…
The cityscape soon gave way to more open roads as Peter moved towards the city's outskirts. The buildings began to thin out, replaced by patches of open land, the kind of area where people rarely ventured unless they had a reason. It was quiet out here, with no other cars in sight, just Peter, Bumblebee, and the open road.
With the lack of traffic and the privacy offered by the emptier roads, Peter figured now was as good a time as any to finish up Bumblebee's repairs. His hands glowed with the familiar blue hue of the Force as he activated Mechu-Deru, focusing on the exterior of the car this time.
As the Camaro moved along the empty road, the faded yellow paint began to shine, the dents and scratches smoothed out, and the rusted parts renewed themselves, transforming the old, beat-up vehicle into a pristine version of its former self. The transformation was subtle yet remarkable—the car went from looking like a junker to a sleek, polished 2nd generation 1977 Camaro, every inch of it restored to perfection.
[Insert picture if you want.]
Peter couldn't help but grin as he leaned his head out the window to admire his handiwork. The car gleamed in the sunlight, its yellow paint catching the rays and reflecting them off its smooth surface. The engine rumbled beneath him, a low, powerful growl that sent a thrill down his spine.
He couldn't resist revving the engine, the sound echoing in the open space around him. With a grin, Peter pressed down on the accelerator, and the Camaro responded immediately, launching forward with a burst of speed that sent him zooming down the road, far beyond the speed limit.
Laughter bubbled up from Peter's chest as the wind whipped through his hair, the world around him becoming a blur. This was freedom, pure and simple—flying down an open road in a classic muscle car that could transform into a giant robot. It was the kind of thing every young boy dreamed of, and here he was, living that dream.
The radio flickered to life with a twist of a dial, and classic rock music filled the car, his new Camaro eating up the miles with ease.
🚨Play La Grange by ZZ Top 🚨
🎶Rumor spreading 'round in that Texas town🎶
🎶About that shack outside La Grange🎶
🎶And you know what I'm talking about🎶
🎶Just let me know if you wanna go🎶
🎶To that home out on the range🎶
🎶They gotta lotta nice girls🎶
🎶Have mercy🎶
🎶A-haw haw haw-haw🎶
🎶Heh, a-haw haw-haw🎶
…
..
.
Peter's foot pressed harder on the gas pedal as the music played, the Camaro roaring down the open road with exhilarating speed. The landscape blurred past him, the wind whipping through the open windows, but as he approached a bend in the road, he was forced to ease up on the gas.
Ahead, he spotted a group of teenagers spilling out onto the road, clearly in the middle of some sort of party by the lake. Cars were parked haphazardly on either side of the road, and the partygoers were crossing back and forth without much regard for traffic.
"…" Peter's brow creased ever so slightly, annoyed at the sudden obstacle in his path, but he slowed down to let them pass.
As the Camaro rolled by at a crawl, it drew the attention of the teens. Heads turned, eyes widened, and Peter could practically feel the wave of envy wash over them as they took in the sight of his freshly restored car. He caught snippets of their conversations, the excitement and awe in their voices as they admired his car.
Peter smirked but didn't pay much attention to the crowd. He wasn't here to impress a bunch of kids; he had more important things on his mind. Still, the attention was nice, a reminder that the Camaro was something special.
As his gaze swept across the crowd, he noticed what appeared to be a couple sitting in a car parked by the side of the road.
The girl was half-naked, while the guy looked like your average douchbag, sporting a sleeveless T-shirt and a backward cap. Both were aggressively locked in a sloppy make-out session, resembling facehuggers from the movie Alien.
"Eww…" Peter groaned in disgust.
Feeling the urge to puke, Peter moved on, dismissing the couple and the party as quickly as they had caught his attention.
The road ahead cleared as the last of the teens crossed, and with nothing more in his way, Peter hit the gas again, the Camaro's engine roaring to life and sending him speeding away from the lake.
The sudden burst of speed drew the attention of every partygoer, but Peter didn't bother looking back; he was too busy enjoying the ride, the music in the car blaring as he tried to forget the teenage facehuggers
The farther he got from the lake, the more the landscape opened up, the road winding through stretches of empty fields and dense woods. It was exactly what he was looking for—a secluded area where he could safely land his ship without worrying about prying eyes.
Just as he thought he found the perfect spot, a flash of red and blue lights caught his attention. Peter's eyes narrowed as he saw a police car up ahead, driving slowly along the road. It was an unusual sight, especially out here in the middle of nowhere, but as Peter got closer, he realized why.
Walking on the side of the road was a girl, dressed in a short skirt and a small shirt that left her midriff bare. Her long, dark hair swayed with each step, and even from a distance, Peter could see the tension in her posture.
The police car was creeping along beside her, the window rolled down as the cops inside leaned out, clearly bothering her.
Peter's hands tightened on the steering wheel as he watched the scene unfold. The girl was clearly uncomfortable, trying to ignore the cops and keep walking, but it was obvious she wanted to be anywhere but there.
Peter's lips thinned in irritation as he heard one of the cops yell, "Get in the car already, you stuck-up bitch! Don't make us drag you in!"
————
Earlier in the day…
After the final school bell rang, Mikaela Banes had been dragged to a party by her boyfriend, Trent.
Mikaela didn't mind going to the lake party; in fact, she welcomed it. Parties usually meant free food and drinks, which were always a bonus for her.
With her father in prison and her mother MIA since birth, the money from her part-time job barely stretched far enough to cover the essentials, let alone luxuries. Every opportunity for a free meal was one she couldn't afford to miss.
But tonight, she didn't even get to enjoy any of the food…
It wasn't long after they arrived that Mikaela overheard something she was never supposed to hear.
Trent, the same guy who had convinced her to go to this party, was standing with their friends near the water, laughing and joking around.
Mikaela hadn't thought much of it until she caught a few choice words that made her blood run cold.
"Yeah, she's my little felon," Trent said with a cocky grin, his arm slung around one of their friends. "Can you believe it? She actually told me she used to steal cars with her dad..."
Mikaela froze in her tracks, her heart sinking as she listened in disbelief to Trent spilling everything she had confided in him. "…"
"And get this," Trent continued, clearly enjoying the attention, "she works at the mall, right? But not just anywhere—Hotdog on a Stick! You should see the uniform she has to wear! It's this hideous, colorful thing with the dumbest hat I've ever seen. I'm not kidding, after work, she leaves that place smelling like a sweaty hotdog."
The group of teenagers erupted into laughter, and Mikaela felt like the ground had been pulled out from under her. She stood there, hidden just out of sight, her fists clenched at her sides as she fought back the tears threatening to spill over.
It wasn't just the fact that Trent was making fun of her—though that hurt enough on its own. It was the betrayal that stung the most.
Mikaela had begun to trust Trent, even confiding in him about her father, her criminal record, and the humiliating job she despised but couldn't escape.
After all, there aren't many people willing to hire a teenage felon...
But now, hearing him spill all her secrets to their friends, she felt nothing but anger and shame.
Tears brimming in her eyes, Mikaela turned and sprinted away from the party, not saying a word and not looking back. And no one seemed to notice her departure—not even her clueless boyfriend or the friends who had hurt her so deeply…
…
..
.
Minutes ticked by as Mikaela walked down the long, lonely stretch of road, her thoughts swirling with anger and hurt.
She had left the party behind, along with the people who had betrayed her. The last thing she wanted to do was ask Trent—her now ex-boyfriend—for a ride home.
The idea of sitting in the car with him after what he had said made her stomach churn. So, she chose to walk, even though it meant miles of trudging along this desolate road with no one but herself for company.
As she walked, she tried to push the memories of what had just happened out of her mind, but they kept creeping back in. The betrayal, the laughter, the feeling of being utterly alone in a crowd of people she had once considered friends.
She blinked back tears, refusing to let them fall. She wouldn't give them the satisfaction, even if they weren't around to see it.
As Mikaela walked, lost in her thoughts, suddenly, the sound of an approaching car drew her attention. She glanced over her shoulder to see a cop car slowly driving by.
Her stomach twisted in dread as the car came to a stop just a few yards ahead of her. The last thing she needed right now was more trouble, but it seemed trouble had found her anyway.
She kept walking, hoping to pass the car without incident, but as she drew closer, her heart sank. She recognized the two officers inside—the same two who had arrested her and her father. They were smirking, ogling her, their eyes gleaming with malice.
One of the cops rolled down the window, leaning out with a leering grin. "Well, well, well, look who we have here," he drawled. "Little Miss Criminal, all alone on the side of the road. Need a ride, sweetheart?"
Mikaela clenched her fists, doing her best to keep her composure. She refused to acknowledge them, knowing that any response would only encourage their behavior.
So, she quickened her pace, trying to ignore the growing fear in the pit of her stomach, but they just drove slowly beside her, not taking the hint.
The second cop chuckled, his voice thick with mockery. "Aw, come on, don't be like that. We're just trying to help. You don't want to end up like your daddy, do you? Locked up and forgotten?"
"Or worse," the first cop added, his tone darkening. "You never know what kind of people you might run into out here. Best to let us give you a lift. Keep you safe from all the bad guys, like your father."
Mikaela's heart pounded in her chest as she kept her head down and continued walking. She knew better than to get in that car. The last time she'd been in their custody, they had made her life a living hell, and she wasn't about to let them do it again.
But they didn't stop.
The cop in the passenger seat leaned out further, his eyes roaming over her body with a lecherous gaze. "Come on, don't make us ask again. You wouldn't want to upset us, would you? Just get in the car, and we'll give you a ride..." he said, his words laced with a double-edged meaning.
Mikaela felt a tear slip down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away, determined to keep walking, even as the fear and anger built up inside her.
But then, one of the cops grew impatient. "Hey, we're talking to you!" he snapped, his voice taking on a more aggressive tone. "Get in the car already, you stuck-up bitch! Don't make us drag you in!"
Just as Mikaela felt her resolve beginning to waver, the low rumble of a muscle car's engine filled the air behind her. She turned her head slightly, just in time to see a yellow Camaro approaching from down the road. The car honked its horn loudly, and the driver, a young man with a confident air, stuck his head out of the window.
"Hey! Why don't you idiots drive the speed limit or get the hell out of the road?" the driver shouted, his voice carrying an unmistakable authority. "You're blocking traffic!"
Mikaela's heart skipped a beat as she realized she might have just been saved. "!"
The cops cursed under their breath, clearly annoyed by the interruption. They exchanged a glance before pulling off to the side of the road in front of Mikaela, still not willing to let her go.
But Mikaela wasn't about to let this opportunity slip by. With newfound determination, she turned and hurried toward the Camaro, stepping directly into the street to prevent the driver from leaving.
"Please," she said, her voice trembling slightly as she met the driver's gaze. "Can you give me a ride? I really need to get out of here."
The driver—who looked to be around her age, raised an eyebrow as he looked at her. For a moment, he stared at her face, as if something about her was familiar. Then, almost as if something clicked in his mind, he nodded, pointing to the passenger seat.
"Hop in," he said.
Mikaela felt a wave of relief wash over her as she hurried around to the passenger side, opening the door and sliding into the seat.
The moment she closed the door behind her, she felt a weight lift off her shoulders. She was safe—or at least, safer than she had been out on the road.
The man who had saved her reached for the gear shift, trying to drive off, but before he could, the two cops exited their car and blocked the Camaro's path, before approaching the passenger side window.
"Hey, you can't just drive off with her," the first cop said, his voice full of authority. "We need to speak with that girl. She's a felon, and this is police business. Why don't you just leave her here and go on your way?"
Mikaela tensed, her heart racing as she looked over, fearing that he might comply with them and throw her out of the car. But to her surprise, he remained calm, his expression unreadable as he looked at the cops.
"Do you have a warrant?" He asked, his voice steady and firm.
The cops exchanged a confused glance. "No, but—"
"Then you can f*ck off," he cut them off, not giving them a chance to finish.
With that, he slammed his foot down on the gas pedal, and the Camaro's engine roared to life, kicking up a cloud of dust as they sped away, leaving the cops behind.
Mikaela couldn't help but smile as they raced down the road, the wind whipping through her hair from the open windows. She barely held back a laugh, the tension of the moment melting away as they put more distance between themselves and the cops.
…
Back on the road, the two cops cursed as they scrambled to get back into their car, but when they tried to start the engine, nothing happened…
The car remained dead, the engine refusing to turn over. Frustrated, they tried the radio next, but it too was unresponsive, as if something had knocked out all the electronics at once.
"F*ck!" one of the cops yelled, smacking the dashboard in frustration.
They were stranded, and there was nothing they could do about it as the yellow Camaro disappeared into the distance, leaving them behind.
A/N: 2900 words :)
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