[center][h2][b]Joel Nicolosi[/b][/h2][/center]

The hours following the race went by quickly for Joel: The podium celebration and the champagne spray, the official post-race press conference and numerous interviews with local and national press. [i]Everyone[/i] wanted and interview with him and Tommy. He remembered talking to at least two people from ESPN on separate occasions as the cameras flashed and crowds continued unendingly. Tommy was used to the limelight and the sportscasters had some fun bringing up his NFL days while Joel was getting tired of answering the same questions over and over. He barely had an opportunity to really celebrate and only managed a few quick words with his dad, Marlin and the rest of the crew before being whisked away to talk to another microphone and camera. When he finally made it back to the hauler, the large trophy and plaque commemorating their victory was laying in one of the bunks where Lou had placed it. Joel didn’t even remember handing it to him. 

Glancing at his watch as he woke up from a short doze, Joel eyed the big trophy in the bunk across from him with a sheepish grin. He was still in the bottom half of his race suit and knew he had about an hour or two to get ready for the sponsor’s gala. There wouldn’t be any time to head back home for anything extra, but the hauler’s amenities were ample and built in consideration that the drivers should ride as comfortably as their car. The all black designer suit they’d brought back from Ginza was hanging in one of the narrow storage closets. He chuckled to himself at how Tommy had been forced to buy it back in Tokyo and the night’s festivities would mark only the second time it had ever been worn. Still somewhat groggy, he pulled himself up from the bunk and grabbed a cold Red Bull from the refrigerator to help wake up. There was apparently a night of free boozing ahead and he wanted to be able to enjoy it fully. That, and he was looking forward to arriving victorious in front of Marlin’s aunt… or cousin… or whatever relations that bigmouth woman represented and then drinking the rest of them into destitution.

He showered and dressed, not accustomed to taking more than ten minutes to put on clothes, he had to Google how to tie a tie correctly and then it took him a few tries to get it straight enough that he was satisfied. He was partly enjoying the solitude and quiet of the hauler and as he started out Tommy met him at the stairs throwing on a jacket and adjusting an expensive pair of cufflinks on his wrist.“I can’t believe you’re still gonna drive that thing.” He said shaking his head with a grin.

“Hey, it’s practical,” Joel said with a shrug. He glanced around. The temporary pitlane had partially cleared out, but the majority of the teams’ trucks and equipment were still around in various stages of teardown as everyone hit the town for the fading evening. People walked about slower and there was a general sense of finality in the air. “Just right up the road.” He threw one leg over his motorcycle and hit the starter. The Harley sprung to life with an electrical wine and then a crackling rumble. Joel thought he looked rather dashing combining the black suit and bike against city lights and the flaming splash of coloring sunset last gasps of daylight provided.

“I’ll be right behind you.” Tommy shouted over the noise. He had an SUV and a driver waiting.

“Don’t forget your purse, bitch.” Joel said with a wide grin. He flipped his sunglasses down and thundered off.

The chaotic broadcast of his exhaust bounced and echoed across the front of City Hall. He was a little early and the circular drive out front looked like hasty preparations were in their last stages. A few catering vans were wrapping up and people bustled around nervously to the smell of fresh bread in the air. Heads turned and some even pointed at his vehicular breach of proper evening protocol, but no one said a word. Being the race winner had its perks and he twisted the throttle once more for good measure. A valet came out and looked confused, but another brushed him aside and greeted Joel graciously to park the bike in a secured area. He continued up the steps alone remembering that the last time he entered City Hall was nearly a decade ago for traffic court when some dull SCPD officer ironically had written him a ticket for loud pipes. [i]They can all suck it now[/i]. He thought to himself with a smirk. He gave a low whistle as he looked at the immaculate spread OHI had set up and flipped his sunglasses up on top of his head. Part of him was hoping no one would recognize him in their hustle to get things ready and he eased over to the nearest bar to get some pregame alcohol flowing. When the barman noticed him, he put one finger over his lips and slinked up to the counter.

[@PrinceAlexus]