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

It’d been a while since Joel stopped by Footsteps. After the Grand Prix and the media excitement that followed, both he and Tommy had sort of let things just settle down for a while. They were both similar in that way. To Tommy, being accustomed to the limelight, winning the race was just like winning the big game. You made the rounds, gave your victory speech, hung up your jersey and relaxed for the off-season. To Joel, winning the race, after years of trying, seemed to bring about closure to that particular chapter of life. He wasn’t interested in running it again; he’d proven his point, so as he stepped through the front door of Footsteps, it was a bit like turning the pages back and even though it had only been a few weeks, after everything that followed, it felt like he hadn’t been there in years. 

Inside, nothing much had changed. [url=https://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/4594471] The large picture taken from the air race along with the car model[/url] were still displayed prominently behind the bar alongside many of Tommy’s sporting memorabilia, but were now accompanied by the impressively sized Sol City Grand Prix trophy and a large photo of Joel and Tommy, with the rest of the pit crew and the car in the official winner’s photo. As he walked up to the bar amid the smell of the grill, the wild cacophony of various sports channels arrayed across screens mounted everywhere and the calm chatter of a Monday night crowd, he couldn’t help but look at it and remember the moment  the picture was taken: the winning timing board and that same trophy was set between them, [i]Nicolosi/Lomax P1 - Sol City GP - Nissan 300ZX[/i], the American flag was next to each of their names, both were giving a thumbs up and he was actually smiling. 

Joel had never “played in the big game” or cared much at all for competitive sports at any point in his life, but that photo burned with an undeniable completeness that he could still feel in his heart. He never talked about it in that way, but it was true. 

[i]Nicolosi![/i]

A voice called out from somewhere in the restaurant breaking the moment of reverence and snapping him fully back to reality. One of the regulars instantly recognized him and it was simply Footsteps custom to bark out Joel’s last name whenever he entered the building. Not even sure where it came from, Joel threw up a wave of acknowledgement as he sauntered up to his regular seat at the bar. 

No one was behind the counter, which wasn’t unusual. All the customers seated were taken care of fully and Joel nodded at a couple more regulars that recognized him. Mondays at Footsteps were normally slow outside of football season and Tommy would often run the bar himself if he felt like it, or have the small waitstaff just watch over it as a team. Joel knew he didn’t need to wait and could walk right into the kitchen if he wanted, but instead, reached behind the counter, knowing where the glasses were and poured himself a Guinness from the tap like he’d done a hundred times before. He glanced down at his watch as he topped off the glass. They had planned to meet and catch up for a while and Joel was a little early. Having spent most of the day on Mount Atlas testing a new car he was not allowed to talk about, he was starving after skipping the regular meal the team provided. 

Taking a long drink he ran a hand through his hair before replacing his simple black team cap and began thumbing through his phone messages while he waited. 

[@alexfangtalon]