The night air was cool as Alex and David arrived at the gas station for their first shift. The fluorescent lights of the place illuminated the gas pumps and the small adjacent convenience store. Freddy, David's cousin and his new boss, was waiting for them at the entrance, arms crossed and a smile that boded ill.
"You're just in time! I thought you'd already regretted it," Freddy said as he wiped his hands with a rag that looked like it had spent more time on the floor than in his hands.
David tried to sound relaxed, though his nervous laugh betrayed him. "Sure, Freddy. We're ready for anything... I think."
Freddy looked at them with a mix of mockery and pity. "Ready for anything? Ha! That's what everyone says at first. But it's one thing to say it, and another to survive a night here. Before we send you out to the front lines, let's give you a little induction."
Freddy led them inside the convenience store, where there was a small room with a table full of papers, an old microwave, and a coffee maker that looked like it hadn't been cleaned since it was invented.
"Okay, guys, before you think this is all about filling up tanks and eating free fries, let me explain the golden rules of this gas station," Freddy said as he sat down on a squeaky chair.
Alex and David looked at each other curiously, as Freddy began his impromptu lesson.
Rule 1:
"Don't argue with customers, especially if they seem crazy. And trust me, this time of night is a magnet for weirdos. If someone asks you for gas for their motorized tricycle, you give them gas. If someone wants a coffee with salt, you give them salt. Don't ask."
David raised his hand like he was in school. "And what do we do if someone threatens us?"
Freddy smiled. "Easy. You run faster than Alex."
Alex snorted. "What?"
Rule 2:
"The bathroom. This is the most important rule. If you have to clean it, prepare like you're going into a war zone. Bring gloves, a bucket, and if you're lucky, your dignity. What's in there can traumatize you for life."
David frowned. "Can't we just close the bathrooms?"
Freddy shook his head, laughing. "No, kid. Bathrooms are sacred. Do you know how much sales you lose if you close the bathrooms? People who come to use them buy coffee, snacks, and sometimes even gasoline. Bathrooms are the heart of this operation. Even if they are a heart that stinks of ammonia and despair."
Rule 3:
"Don't drink the coffee we make here. In fact, don't drink anything that comes out of this store. If you do, don't blame me when your guts charge you the bill."
Alex raised an eyebrow. "So why do we sell coffee?"
"Because we're a gas station, not a five-star restaurant," Freddy said with a laugh. "People like to suffer, and I just give them what they want."
After the brief induction, Freddy led them to the front of the store and pointed to the door of the men's room. "Alright, boys. This is where your real training begins. One of you is going to take on the men's room, and the other one is left to serve customers. Who wants to be the brave one?"
Alex looked at David, expecting him to volunteer, but his friend quickly raised his hands. "I'm the PR guy. You're the shop's apprentice. I think this fits your skills more."
Freddy nodded, smiling. "Good choice, David. Alex, welcome to your first confrontation with the most feared bathroom in town. Remember: wear gloves, and if something moves, don't touch it."
Alex took the bucket and gloves with resignation. He opened the bathroom door and the smell hit him like a slap in the face. "My God! What the hell happened here? Is this a bathroom or the set of a horror movie?"
David, standing outside, couldn't help but laugh. "Come on, Rivera! You're a warrior. You can handle this."
Freddy added, amused. "Remember, kid. If you survive the bathroom, you survive anything in life."
-x.X.x-
While Alex dealt with what he could only describe as a "bacteriological apocalypse," David was in the service area, dealing with equally peculiar customers. The night seemed to attract the strangest characters in town, as if the gas station were a magnet for the unusual.
The first to arrive was a man in striped pajamas, with disheveled hair and one eye half closed. He staggered to the refrigerator, pulling out three cans of energy and a package of oatmeal cookies, as if they were his lifeline.
"Anything else?" David asked as he checked out the purchase.
The man stared at him for a few seconds. "Yeah... do they have alien repellent?"
David didn't know whether to laugh or worry. "No, but I can offer you some bug spray."
The man nodded, as if that were enough. "That'll do."
A little while later, a woman arrived with a small dog in a stroller. There was something in her expression that suggested she wasn't completely in touch with reality. As she checked the fries, she began to argue with the dog.
"No, Max, you can't eat that. You know what the vet said," she said seriously, as if the dog had spoken.
David watched in silence, trying not to make eye contact. As he approached the counter, the woman leaned toward him and whispered, "Don't pay attention to him if he starts talking to you. He's a little nervous."
David nodded slowly. "Sure… no problem."
The absurd calm was broken when a modified Subaru WRX pulled into the gas station with a roar that echoed throughout the place. Its blue paint gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and the sound of the engine made all the other cars look like toys.
David straightened his posture, trying to look professional. When the driver rolled down the window, the smell of gasoline and exhaust filled the air. It was a man in his mid-thirties, wearing a leather jacket and a tired but energetic look.
"How much should I put in?" David asked, keeping his composure.
"Full tank," the man replied, adjusting his sunglasses despite the hour. "I'm going to the meeting on the highway. It's a great night to race."
David couldn't help but look at the car in admiration. The sporty rims, the custom exhaust, even the little details on the headlights showed that this man knew what he was doing. "Joint? Sounds interesting."
The man nodded, smiling. "Of course it is. It's where you find the real car geeks. You should stop by sometime... well, if you have anything to drive."
David shook his head, laughing. "Not yet. Alex has a car, but it's... in progress."
The man let out a laugh, pulling out his cell phone to check something. "Ah, the old 'in progress.' We all start out like that. Tell him not to give up. Maybe someday we'll see him on the track."
As the Subaru roared back and disappeared down the road, David felt a mix of inspiration and envy. He poked his head into the bathroom to share the moment with Alex, who was still fighting the horrors of the place.
"Hey, Alex!" David shouted, peeking in. "The driver of a Subaru said he's waiting for you at the track someday. That is, if you survive whatever you're facing in there."
Alex, leaning over the toilet with the rag in one hand and the bucket in the other, answered without even turning around. "Don't talk to me right now, David! I'm cleaning something that seems to be staring at me."
-x.X.x-
Later, when they were finally done with the initial chores, Alex and David sat in the back of the gas station to take a breather. The night air was cool, and from their spot they could see the main road illuminated by the headlights of passing cars. Every so often, the roar of a powerful engine would break the calm, causing them both to look up in curiosity.
The first to pass was a Mitsubishi Evo IX, its engine roaring as the LED taillights left a reddish flash on the road. The turbo whistle echoed just before the exhaust belched out a jet of smoke that smelled like pure gasoline.
"Can you imagine owning something like that?" David asked, pointing at the car as it disappeared into the distance.
Alex smiled, though his gaze reflected something deeper. "Sure I do. But first I need my Civic to at least start. It looks more like a decoration than a car now."
David laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "You'll make it, bro. This job sucks, yes, but if we stick it out, you'll have that car ready in no time. And when you do, you'll be the one roaring through here."
Alex nodded, though the impatience inside him was undeniable. He wanted to be at these meetings, a part of this world filled with roaring engines and flashing lights. Not just watching from afar as another spectator.
Around midnight, a familiar sound broke through the constant hum of the road. It was a deep, powerful roar, a sound Alex would recognize anywhere. It was Marcos' black Skyline R33, which lit up the gas station with its bright headlights as it slowed down to turn in.
"Look who's here!" David exclaimed, with a mix of surprise and excitement.
The Skyline pulled up beside them with a soft but imposing purr. The RB26 engine sounded like a sleepy beast, and with every slight touch of the accelerator, the exhaust spat out a thunderclap followed by a small flash of blue. Marcos rolled down the window and looked at them with a smirk.
"What are you kids doing? Playing at being adults?" he asked as he drummed his fingers on the steering wheel.
Alex crossed his arms, unable to hide a sarcastic smile. "Working to pay off what I owe you."
Marcos let out a laugh. "Six hundred dollars doesn't pay for itself, kid! I don't know if the men's room will give you enough for the next month, though."
David, who was staring at the Skyline with shining eyes, chimed in. "This car… bro, it looks like it could tear up the highway if you wanted to. How do you keep from flooring the gas all the time?"
Marcos smiled, proud. "Who says I don't? If this baby ain't roaring, I ain't living."
Vanessa, sitting in the passenger seat wearing dark glasses, leaned over to look at Alex. "Come on, Alex! Don't let them intimidate you. You're going to pass me on the highway in that Civic one day."
Alex looked at her, then at the Skyline, and let out a snort. "Yeah, right. By then, this car will be a museum piece. Maybe we'll even see it in a documentary."
Vanessa laughed, as Marcos honked the horn as if he were announcing a race. "That's if I don't die of boredom waiting for you first! By the way, have you told Alex how much you spent on the turbo?"
David, intrigued, asked, "Turbo? What turbo?"
Marcos grinned like a mischievous child. "Ah, only the best money can buy. HKS, fine tuning, and a boost that would make your bike explode, David."
The Skyline roared again as Marcos touched the accelerator. The sound of the engine filled the gas station like a roar of thunder, and the exhaust released a flare that briefly illuminated the back wall.
When Marcos finally turned on the high beams and prepared to leave, he left one last comment. "Good luck, kid! Remember: effort always pays off, but don't take too long. I don't want to see that Civic in the shop all my life."
The Skyline pulled out of the gas station with a screech of tires, leaving a trail of smoke and the smell of burning rubber. David stared with his mouth open. "That car… bro, it's a dream come true."
Alex, though a little jealous, couldn't help but smile. He watched as the Skyline disappeared into the distance, probably on its way to a car meetup on the highway. He sighed, but not in frustration. It was more of a sigh of motivation, a reminder of why he was enduring that night shift, the apocalyptic bathrooms, and the constant exhaustion.
"Someday, David," Alex muttered, looking at his friend. "Someday we'll be the ones leaving this gas station roaring."
David raised his water bottle as if toasting. "To that day, bro. But in the meantime… who's going for another coffee? I think the next customer gets the medal for weirdo of the night."
"You know?" Alex said, breaking the silence. "It's not just the racing. It's the effort, the journey to get there. Every piece I put into the Civic, every hour I spend working, I feel like I'm building something of my own. Something no one else can take away from me."
David nodded, fully understanding what he meant. "Yeah, that makes sense. Plus, imagine how epic it will be the day you walk into one of those meetings, put the Civic next to a Supra or a Skyline, and someone says, 'Who owns that beauty?'"
Alex chuckled. "Yeah, sure. Or rather, they'll say, 'How did this piece of junk get here?'"
David gently pushed him on the shoulder. "Don't be pessimistic, Rivera. If you put your spin on it, that car will be your calling card. You know what? You could even give it a nickname."
Alex looked at him, thoughtful. "A nickname? I'd never thought of that. Do you have any ideas?"
David was silent for a few seconds before bursting into laughter. "Yeah! 'The Duck Destroyer.' Because if it doesn't start, at least it can scare away the animals in the park."
Alex shook his head, laughing. "You have the worst taste in names. But hey, when it's ready, we'll see."
The conversation drifted to other topics as the night progressed. They talked about how they would spend the money they were going to earn, about the parts Alex would need to buy, and how far away they were from being part of the world they saw passing by every night on that road.
"Do you think it's worth all this?" David asked at one point, his tone a little more serious.
Alex looked at him, then at the road, where a sports car roared past towards the horizon. "Definitely. It may seem far away now, but one day we'll be there, David. One day we'll stop looking from here and we'll be the ones everyone else looks at."
David raised his soda as if toasting. "To that day, bro. To that day."
Alex raised a bottle of water he'd taken out of the fridge. "To the Civic. And to me not killing myself when I finally start it."
They both laughed, letting the night go on.
End Of Chapter 9.