I gently pressed the start button. The button lit up in the color green, signifying it was working. At that moment, I heard a noise that was so loud and beautiful. It made me realize how much of the world there was to see and experience. And this was just a car. A machine designed to carry you from point a to point b. Now imagine what kind of things existed, let alone experiencing them, even just knowing about them was like a dream. But now, I could enjoy the experience of being able to taste this magnificent feeling, at least in my dream.
Once the engine started, I lifted my head and looked out the window. In my rush to wake up from the dream, I hadn't even glanced at the sky. The sparse clouds and the blinding rays of the sun startled me for a moment. It was nice to see a dream so vividly. Maybe I could live everything to the fullest now.
Suddenly, I remembered I might not have much time. I needed to hurry. So I leaned forward and glanced at the gas and brake pedals. Pressing the brake pedal with my right foot, I gently pulled the gear lever to "D." Then, after lowering the handbrake, I slowly lifted my foot off the brake. The car began to move forward slowly.
This wasn't the first time I'd driven a car. Before, my father would let me practice in backstreets so I could learn gradually. But this felt entirely different. A Brugati truly doesn't feel like an ordinary family car. It's not just about looking at it from the outside. Sitting inside and controlling it is a whole other experience. The comfort of the cabin as the car glided, the engine's satisfying growl. It was one of the best feelings I'd ever had. Sure, driving a Brugati for the first time played a big role, but that didn't make the moment any less irreplaceable.
But I had to push aside my excitement. I still had things to do after enjoying this beauty. Fly, go to an amusement park, eat sushi, and more. So I focused ahead through the windshield. Gently pressing the gas pedal, I steered toward the exit of the neighborhood and onto the main road.
I was moving slowly, nearly out of the neighborhood. The main road was now in sight. I didn't think to signal or check the mirrors. Honestly, I didn't have to. Those rules exist for traffic safety, for people to understand each other. Who would understand me? How would I understand anyone? There was no one left to understand.
Without thinking, I turned the wheel right and merged onto the main road at a slow speed. It was true that the main road wasn't ideal for high speeds. The asphalt wasn't high quality and it was kind of uneven. Plus, being a city road, there were too many curves. But this didn't disappoint me. It'd be reckless for someone still learning to drive at high speeds. First, I'd get used to handling the car at normal speeds in the city. Later, I'd test it on the outskirts.
So I pressed the gas a bit harder and began moving along the right lane toward the city center. I'd only increased the speed to around 50 km/h.
Since I wasn't normally the one driving, this was my first time paying attention to the city from behind the wheel. Actually my focus wasn't on sightseeing. I just wanted to stay alert. But I could tell how different the city looked from here. Especially how empty it was. The traffic lights flickered in random colors, creating a strange rhythm.
The lights of shops and buildings were all on as if it was still nighttime. Even though the city was empty, it didn't feel abandoned. Like everyone had vanished just minutes ago. It was nothing like the scenes in movies—no crumbling buildings, no overgrown vegetation, no animals roaming.
Hold on a minute. Where were the animals? Our city was popular for having a lot of cats and some dogs. Had they disappeared too, or just the humans?
Suddenly, I remembered I was still in a dream. A dream. No matter how real it seemed, it was just a dream. I pulled my left hand off the wheel, reached for the window button, and pressed it until the window fully opened.
Once it was down, I stuck my left arm out and felt the wind against my skin. It was a strange sensation, one I'd never felt before. If my dad were driving, he'd scold me for risking my arm outside the car. But what could happen now? Worst case, even if I crashed, I'd just wake up. True, I didn't want that, but it boosted my confidence. No risk of death, no injuries. I could do whatever I wanted.
Trusting this, I decided to floor the gas pedal. I'd already been driving for nearly 15 minutes and reached the city center. It was time to pick up speed.
I was tired of driving slowly. I'd only pushed it to 80 km/h. A Brugati isn't meant for these speeds. It's a machine built for velocity.
I began pressing the gas pedal all the way down. The engine's roar intensified, screaming. The cabin was soundproofed, but the engine was so loud, no car could've muffled it.
I stared at the road but could barely see anything clearly. The car suddenly accelerated. Everything was happening too fast. I gripped the wheel tightly, trying to react quickly.
The speedometer startled me. I was going 120 km/h. The city speed limit was half of that!
But it wasn't enough. I wanted more. I needed to get out of the city. But I didn't know the roads well. I knew what to do, but it was risky. I could check my phone for directions, but that might distract me and cause a crash.
"Who cares," I muttered to myself.
I was in a dream anyway. Worst case, I'd wake up.
I grabbed my phone from my pocket and opened the navigation app. I needed to zoom in to see which route to take. As I reached to adjust the map, I realized. I'd forgotten something. The most important thing.
To check the fucking road.
I raised my head to look at the road. I wish I wasn't looking.
When I saw the road fork ahead, my heart seemed to stop. No, it didn't stop. It pounded so hard I thought it'd burst out of my chest. 1, 2, 3… Each beat was distinct, countable.
Maybe it was the adrenaline or the surreal scene, but my breathing slowed. Like my lungs were refusing air.
The fork split into a bridge on one side and a regular road on the other. Distracted, I wasn't steering toward either. Hurtling toward the fork at 150 km/h, I couldn't tell if the closing distance was real or just fear stretching time.
My hands locked up in terror. One gripped the wheel, the other clenched the phone like I wanted to crush it. I couldn't think. What was there to think? My body ignored me, each part scrambling for its own solution.
I forced my mouth open as wide as I could, gasping for a deep breath. Maybe my last breath.
My attempt to breathe seemed to work. I thought I knew what to do. At least, I hoped.
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and clung to the wheel. The speed was already over 150 km/h, and I needed to brake. But as I tried lifting my foot off the gas, something felt wrong. My foot wouldn't move. I couldn't budge it.
"Shit, Shit. Move…" I screamed.