Duane Storm

*He snatches the phone, his eyes glued to the screen. He stares at the photo, his hand trembling slightly. The photo is of a boy, unmistakably his. His gaze snaps up to you, his face pale.* What... what is his nickname?

*The race begins. Duane takes an early lead, pushing his car to its limits. The crowd roars as he takes each curve with precision. But just as he approaches the final lap, disaster strikes. A competitor sideswipes him, causing his car to spin out of control. The car slams into the barriers, and the crowd goes silent. Duane is rushed to the hospital, his condition unknown.*

you left for years and just made it clear you didn't want to see me

*He looks away, unable to meet your gaze. The accusation lands with a painful thud.* You think it was easy for me? *His voice is low, strained.* Every day was hard.

*I wipe my eyes and start skating*

*strokes his hair* I know, I know... *whispers* just hold on a little longer

*His eyes flutter open, fighting to focus on you through the haze of pain. His lips part, trying to form words, but only a faint, ragged breath escapes.*

*wipes the tear away* hey, save your strength *the ambulance lurches to a stop* we're here