@HapiDrake81
So, people have walked up to me all weekend asking about the "Big-Ass" event we usually have this year. I have cancelled it this year and I'm not sure I'll hold another one. Thank the Valentians for that and hope you enjoy their Water Festival.
#NSSCRA : #SuperSkychief500
The Stevenson/Henderson house, Poplar Prairie, Hapilopper City
The day after the Sharpe’s Battleship 250
Drake Stevenson was terminally angry as he sat out on the back porch of his house, overlooking the backyard. A backyard large enough to hold a big party. A Big-Ass party, if you will. A party he had just cancelled out of deference to the Valentians inviting everyone to Valentine Z, in the middle of Super Skychief 500 week, for something called a “Water Festival”. When he got word of it, he decided to cancel the “Big-Ass” party and just tell everyone to thank the Valentians for it. But he hadn’t made the cancellation in time enough to inform a couple of vendors, who were arriving at the house on Poplar Prairie with a gigantic order of food and beverages enough to fill the appetites of the NSSCRA community.
Drake could hear the front doorbell ring from the back porch and his anger intensified. Taylor, slightly hung over from the wild partying that came from winning the race the night before, came out to inform Drake the doorbell was ringing.
“Drake, hello?” Taylor tried to say. “Some food guys are here. I think so is the beer man.”
Drake stared straight out into space. It was clear he wasn’t in the mood to socialize. Then he stared out towards Taylor, who realized immediately just how angry Drake really was.
“Tell the vendors to fuck off,” Drake said, calmly, sharply and angrily. “And then tell them, to go over to that stupid fucking portal that the Valentians have set up, and give them the bill.”
“Right,” Taylor blurted out before rushing back to the vendors.
Not too long before, when he was in TJUN-ia, Drake learned of the Water Festival as he was in the midst of planning for the “Big-Ass” party to be held the week of the Super Skychief 500. Throughout the weekend, Drake looked at the invitation and started stewing about it. When the Berman Brothers Classic was postponed due to rain, it put Drake in a very difficult position of having to compete with the Valentians as he was trying to hold a get-together in his own country, while the Valentians were inviting people to hold a larger get-together in their country. So much so that they had gone to the trouble of setting up a portal to get there.
The best way to describe Drake’s feelings was “disrespected.” He felt the Valentians had disrespected him by doing this. After all, it wasn’t exactly a secret that there was something planned in Hapilopper City for the NSSCRA community the week of the race, and that someone, be it Drake Stevenson, Chet Byrd, or whoever, went to a great effort to plan it for everyone. So to find out the Valentians were doing something in their country, inviting the NSSCRA community there, while everyone was in Hapilopper City, was extremely disrespectful to Drake, regardless of if the Valentians meant to offend Drake or not.
In fact, he was so angry about it, that he briefly considered calling Amanda McAlister and telling her that he wasn’t going to Valentine Z for the upcoming Tyrrhenian Heavens 500, and that he would hold the “Big-Ass” event the day of that race, in his backyard. Or maybe he’d hold a “Water Festival” of his own, inviting the children in the neighborhood to play in the sprinklers in his backyard while he fired up the grill.
What angered Drake even more was the fact it was the Valentians. It wasn’t as if this was some group of ne’er-do-wells doing something disrespectful, it was the Valentians, who were among the nicest group of anyone he had ever met. It made him wonder if he had done something to piss them off, and it made him wonder what problem they had with him. At the very least, he decided he needed to have a long chat with the Valentians. At the very least, give them the “what for” and explain to them why he felt disrespected.
At the very least, it would be good for the soul.
Taylor came out to the back porch, and sat down at the table next to Drake. She was less than thrilled with Drake – instead of celebrating her win, Drake spent much of the evening the night before stewing over the Water Festival. She felt like Drake didn’t really give too much of a shit about the fact she had just scored a huge victory – at home, and on a surface she wasn’t too familiar with, using advice that Drake had given her. She had watched some of the racing that had happened during the day and watched how the dirt surface had evolved throughout the afternoon and evening. But instead of celebrating when she was, she looked back in one of the trailers and saw Drake sulking as he stormed back post-race.
“Drake, can we talk?” Taylor asked. “We need to talk.”
“OK, Taylor, talk,” Drake responded.
“I get it you’re pissed off at the Valentians,” Taylor started. “That was pretty shitty of them. But you need to drop it. There’s plenty of good instead. There’s plenty of good things happening here instead. You know, instead of having to entertain a bunch of, I don’t know, jackasses? Instead of having to entertain those guys until three in the morning, we can spend a night to ourselves, we can go out and do something for ourself. We can go out to Lake Eclipse, get on the boat, and spend an evening to ourself. Fuck the Valentians. Their true colors came out. But they did the two of us a favor. We don’t have to worry about some sort of drama going on in our backyard, or hell, remember last year? We don’t have to worry about anything getting blown up.”
“Yeah, I guess,” Drake said. “We can spend that time to ourself.”
“Yeah, we can,” Taylor continued, a sharp tone of voice evident. “But I don’t like, is last night, I really wanted to see you after the race. I beat the rest of the world in my race – MY race, Drake, you understand that? That’s MY race, sponsored by my family’s company. My parents spend millions of dollars a year sponsoring this, and I was hoping you’d be there to celebrate me winning. I won because of what you told me. But where were you? You were pissed off about some stupid fucking Water Festival. To hell with that.”
“I just… I mean, I don’t…”
“Drake, I don’t really want to hear it,” Taylor replied. “You allowed the Valentians to get in your head and you disrespected me. I feel like that maybe, and I hope I’m wrong on this, but maybe us wasn’t such a great idea.”
“Go on,” Drake said. “Explain.”
“I don’t know, man, it just feels like we’re always angry all the time and we just don’t get to spend time as ourself, as a couple,” Taylor explained. “We’re always doing different things, and yeah, we get to see each other all the time, but we don’t get to see each other, as each other. Some time we need to just spend a weekend to ourself. We haven’t gotten enough of that, and I wonder, if we could spend that time by ourself, maybe we’d figure out if we could make this work.”
“I agree,” Drake calmly said, absent the vicious anger that had penetrated his voice earlier. “We’re always surrounded by people, always got cameras around us, other drivers, other bullshit. There’s always got to be some third wheel. Hell, even here, it always seems like there’s something up. You’ve got a sponsor thing. I’ve got to test a car somewhere. We’re working on the simulator. You know what it is? It’s a work-life balance issue.”
“No, no, it’s not,” Taylor said. “Because there is no balance. You’re right, Drake. We need some time away from this shit. Let’s get on the boat and spend a few days there. Get away from this, and honestly? That Berman Bros. race, I’ve got half a mind to withdraw from it.”
“Yeah, me too.”
HAPILOPPER CITY HERALD ✓
@HCHerald
NEWS: Drake Stevenson and Taylor Henderson have officially withdrawn from the #BermanBrosClassic, citing personal reasons.
#NSSCRA : #SuperSkychief500