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

Joel scratched at his stubble in the afternoon light. Leaned against the [url=https://i.kinja-img.com/gawker-media/image/upload/ysqfg0iqdtd7uk8zkftg.jpg]rally car[/url], they were taking a short break before running one more late stage and he was glancing over a few messages from Sio on his phone. The girls  were about to head over for her art showing at that gaudy mansion where Marlin and her sister lived and he shook his head with some disgust and disappointment. In truth, he had wanted to go, but after finding out about the unwelcoming change of venue, there was no doubt that his presence there would have only caused more problems and as Sio reminded him, he had to really start considering his image if he was going to be on an international stage. With the newness and shock of his win in the Sol City Grand Prix fading away, people were expecting, particularly his teammates and sponsors, to see [i]driver[/i] Joel put up podium finishes and not drama laden headlines. 

Glancing over his shoulder to the west, he could see the city in the distance from their temporary service area set up in the parking lot of the Mount Atlas Observatory. Taking in the sun setting behind broken rain clouds, his thoughts were mixed between Sio, getting his mind right for the drive and combining the two urges. Jamaica was primarily going to be about speed and power with fast switchbacks and quick turns over junctions from dirt to pavement and plenty of jumps. However the Blue Mountain stage was notoriously difficult and wound around what amounted to nothing more than a goat path requiring finesse and patience from the driver. Sio was going to come with him several thousand miles to support him, but he couldn’t even go across town to support her and it irked at him as the team’s mechanics worked on the car behind him filling the quiet forest air with the sound of pneumatic tools and ratchet gears. He was ready to put the pedal on the floor and finish out the night, but took a picture of the city from his vantage point and sent it to her along with two videos of some his previous drives earlier in the afternoon. 

Joel and his co-driver, a Dutch South-African named Max with a last name Joel could barely pronounce, rolled out onto the parkway a few moments later, turning off the main drive and accelerating down an old narrow logging trail as they blazed around the side of the mountain heading for the valley below. They had drove together since Joel came onboard and with consistent practice, had a pretty natural working groove in the car. Max read the pace-notes in rapid succession, not getting too far ahead: [i]Right four over crest, keep right… Left three, tightens… Sixty… Into hairpin left![/i]. Joel’s hands worked the shifter and the wheel in response to the notes. The exhaust crackled and howled through the woods while the turbo chirped with each motion of the throttle. Melted snow and rain made the course a sloshy mess of mud and clay that sprayed in a fan from the back of the car. The bright orange Rebellion [i]R[/i] on the side was barely visible under a layer of dirt as Joel gave the handbrake a quick pull and brought the tail around for the turn throwing gravel over the side of a near vertical escarpment. It was the last run of the day and he was pushing to let his frustrations out. 

They broke out onto a long straight in the valley below and Joel had his foot on the floor, gripping the wheel tightly with both hands against the onslaught of the broken terrain as they flung ‘round another long turn so sideways he was watching the trail ahead through the side window. [i]One-twenty… then big jump, Caution logs… And square right onto tar.[/i] Max announced over the radio. The car went airborne and Joel could see glimmering evening on Atlas Lake through the forest in his periphery as the tachometer needle beat against the rev limiter. They landed slightly nose down and Joel got on the brake to swing the squared double-corner where two large piles of cut timber awaited pickup in the morning. They came around the first one with the nose of the car nearly scraping away the sap bringing a cocky grin to Joel’s face that dropped instantly when he saw one misplaced cord jutting out and snapped the the wheel back hard to compensate before the passenger side mirror was instantly sheared off.

“Dear God…” Max muttered as the car rocked from the extra input on the wheel and the tires screeched over the pavement dipping into the opposing ditch with momentum. Joel stayed in the throttle and jinked the wheel again to correct causing the car to rock back and forth before settling again. The course was over and he sped on down the highway towards their home base. 

“That’s probably enough for today.” Joel lightly snickered over the radio fully aware of how close they had come to destroying the car. His heart was pounding as the moment instantly replayed in his head. He was pretty sure he could see the the chainsaw groove in the log that had taken away the mirror. He shook his head as the adrenaline wore away and they drove on  wondering how Sio was doing. 

[@Almalthia]