Rain.

Hail.

Shine.

Rev.

Lights.

Fly.

The world blurred around me as I twisted the throttle, sending me across the wet asphalt like I was praying to see God.

Maybe I was.

The only thing that made me hope to delay the inevitable was the sweet, deafening sound of my bike's motor in my ear, and the vibration it sent through my blood. In a way, it kept my heart pumping.

And it was pumping fast. The adrenaline was numbing. It numbed the cold of the night air that flew up my sleeves and encompassed me. It numbed the buzz of thoughts that threatened to strangle me. It numbed the ache in my heart. It numbed it all.

The wheels of my beautiful beast screeched and spun, awakening anything that might've found sleep in this late hour. But maybe I didn't care. Maybe just this once, I'd let myself be deaf to the world.

Maybe just this once, I'd rev louder.

My gloves ground tighter against the throttle as I accelerated past my limits. Horns blared around me as drivers saw me come and go in a flash.

Pot hole.

I swerved around it, envisioning myself flying over the handle bars, tires still spinning in the hole my tax dollars should've filled.

Then I saw red.

Lights turned, cars stopped. I didn't. The intersection came and went in a scream of horns and tires. The shouts never reached me. I was gone.

Tonight I was deaf to it all. Even if it was just for a moment. Even if it was forever. Tonight, the world was so loud it was silent.

But then something gripped my heart like a panic that forced me to listen. Through the rumble of the roaring beast was a smaller vibration. Finer. Quieter. Yet so much louder. It forced me to hear it.

I glanced down for a blink before my eyes were back in front of me. 120km. Below it, a rectangular light. My phone screen. 11:06pm. Unknown number. The wind caught my words. The motor drowned them out.

I watched the needle drop from 120. 100. 70. Speed limit. Then, I was slowing into a side street and pulling up in the middle of a parking space between a car and the park entry. I didn't care. I wasn't sure I noticed.

Clutch. Stand. Switch. Key.

I slid off the bike, my boots splashing in a puddle that gathered in the uneven dip of the road. I unstrapped my right glove, shoved my hand beneath my opposite underarm and yanked the black leather off.

Hand stiff from the cold, I pressed answer, my left pulling it out of the doc.

"Hello?" I answered, breathless, willing my heart rate to slow. "Who's this?"

"Good evening, this is Jessica Wong from the Meridian Health Junction. Is this the father of Peeta Lyka?"

It seemed the race was back on, and my lungs were being flooded with wind. Yet I wasn't moving, and I couldn't breathe.

"Sir?"

I placed a hand on the seat of my bike and inhaled. Barely. I flipped up my visor. Tried again.

"That's me."

The woman's voice turned quiet. Sympathetic. It didn't soften her words.

"Sir... Peeta has unfortunately passed away this evening at 11:02pm. Would you like to come by to say your final goodbyes?"

The world seemed to blur around me. Fog came in puffs and rose up from my mouth. My eyes stung. Tonight, I was not deaf. Tonight I could hear. Tonight the world screamed. But not like an engine. Not like tires.

Like a heart. Like blood. Like thoughts louder than words. Like my own voice as I screamed. My voice cracked. Then my screen. My phone slid across the footpath. My fist slammed into the seat of my bike.

How did I mess this up? I promised I'd make this work. I promised I could keep her safe.

My boots scraped the road as I approached my phone. It sat in the grass at the edge of the park. I plucked it in my frozen hand. The screen was shattered. Black. Jessica Wong was no longer on the line.

"You worthless piece of trash--" I strode across the grass, watching my own reflection like a stranger on the screen.

My voice cracked then I laughed, a short bark as I paused before the rubbish bin that stood like a silent sentry beside the park bench.

"You couldn't take the pressure? You couldn't even take this? You worthless, disappointment-- you-- you broken, pathetic--"

The unresponsive brick was sent flying into the bin. Glass. Metal. Then a crunch as it landed in plastic and something wet.

Then my boot hit the bin, the sound of its hollow form echoing into the silence, cutting through the sound of the near-empty road.

I crashed into the park bench, aggressively unbuckling my helmet before tossing it across the grass. Then, my face sunk into my hands and for the first time since I was a child, I wished I would cry. I wished I could.

Instead, I sat in aching silence. Then my hand, cold through my pocket, pulled out a card from my wallet.

With one eye not covered by my gloved hand, I looked at the tiny picture. There I was, a boy no older than twelve, grinning like I was five. Black hair was tussled in every direction. City lights glared behind me. I was draped in an oversized leather jacket.

Around my arms was a larger me. Ektoras Lyka. Jacketless in the cold. Grin matching mine, but with grey stubble. Hair like mine but tamer. Hunched just enough to hold his son that was too big for his back.

On one shoulder was his sons head. On the other was a tiny animal. A black kitten. Hardly able to walk. It wore a grey textured collar that contained five letters. It couldn't be read, but I could envision it like I saw it yesterday.

Peeta.

A groan escaped me as if the pain in my heart was physical. One hand gently brushed her face like I used to. The other held my hair in a fist that I wished didn't hurt. I wished I was numb. I wished I had never known. Wished I couldn't feel.

"I'm sorry, Peeta," I whispered. Then my brown eyes flicked to the side. To eyes that matched them. "I'm sorry, Bapa."

The chill in the air stung my eyes. I flipped the picture, but the pain didn't stop. My head dropped back against the bench backrest. My eyes caught the stars above me.

"Why didn't you wait for me?" I whispered, almost too quiet for my own ears. I imagined Peeta jumping into my dad's arms like she used to when she was young. When he was still around.

I swallowed something hard in my throat. Voice weak. Cracked. I asked again: "why didn't you take me with you?"

The voice in my ears didn't sound like my own. It was smaller. Weaker. Then, finally, the dam broke. Hot tears ran down the outer corners of my eyes. They cut through the cold, heating my temples, then becoming lost in the mess of my hair.

"I don't want this... I don't want to be alone."

The stars winked. None spoke. Not even a cricket answered my call. Yet the world was still so loud.

I leaned forward again, eyes in hands, elbows on knees, and cried. Sobbed silently. Sobbed until I thought the grass might grow thicker beneath me.

Then the stars winked again. But too bright. It wasn't the stars. Perhaps a car. But no -- too close.

I lifted my head, Butwiping my face hastily with my sleeve. it wasn't a car. Thankfully, it wasn't an officer's torchlight either. Although at this point, I mightn't mind the company.

And it wasn't a fallen star. At least, not what I imagined them to look like.

It was a cat.

A small cat, whiskers, blinking eyes and all. But it was blue. A glowing, breathtaking pale blue light like glowing water. Or a fallen star.

We blinked at each other for a long moment. Then, like any normal cat, he made a sound. One of those soft, rumbling ones that are half pur, half meow.

He arched his back, rubbing its glowing fur against the shin of my black jeans.

I leaned down. Scooped him up. He felt any other cat. Fur parted for my fingers, cold at first, then he got warmer as I placed him on my lap and let him make circles. His paws kneaded my lap, claws plucking in and out of my jeans.

Then he paused, sat, and looked up at me. His eyes were blue like the morning sky, but shone like the night moon.

"Are you real?" I found myself whispering. "Are you a star?"

When the cat simply purred louder in response to my voice, I leaned back again. I laughed, a real, single chuckle.

"Are you my Peeta?"

I waited, silent from that moment on, as if the cat would respond. But I waited anyway. I let it get comfortable. Lay its head on my knee. Pur itself to sleep. Share its warm like Peeta used to. Like dad used to.

I didn't sleep. Not a wink. But the night seemed to get quieter. Just a bit, while I counted the winks of the stars. I was interrupted what felt like an hour later.

The bin beside me rattled, my ringtone coming through the sound of plastic and metal. The blue cat on my lap lifted his head, his ears turning toward the sound curiously.

I only budged to look at it when he hopped off my lap, landing in the wet grass. I didn't allow myself to be mesmerised by the sight of a glowing blue cat licking its wet paws.

I stood, approached then bin, plucked out my phone a moment before it went silent. I scrunched my nose slightly at the sight of the wet, soft drink smelling, broken brick.

I read through the web of shattered glass. 4:04am. Missed call from 'Kira Blax [psycho with a degree]'.

Then my phone vibrated again. New message. Then another. And another. I watched them appear on my lockscreen. I touched the screen. It didn't respond.

>Call me back Atlas<

>I heard about Peeta... im sorry. Just don't be rash. We will figure it out.<

>Respknd asap.<

-- Kira Blax [psycho with a degree]

A sigh escaped me. I didn't want to talk about this. Least so with someone scribbling in a notepad and getting paid for my suffering.

Vibrate. My screen lit up again.

>Atlas plz just call b4 you do anythign<
-Kira Blax [psycho with a degree]

I shook my head at her atrocious texting language. Then I dropped the useless brick back into the rubbish.

I wiped my hand on my jeans. Turned. Spotted the glowing cat, and watched it until it paused its shower and made eye contact.

What an odd creature. No collar. Alone. I wanted to let today be about me. Just this once. But how could I leave it here?

I brushed my fingers together and made a quiet, "psh psh psh" sound.

The cat seemed to consider my call like it was a sophisticated proposal. Then, it lowered its half cleaned paw, and padded after me.

I almost smiled. But it never came. The world was too heavy to let me.

I watched its glow follow beside my boots as I retrieved my helmet and reached my bike.

I geared up, then took off my jacket and wrapped the blue cat inside its warm leather. The night air nearly stung against my skin, seeping easily between the threads of my top.

The cat wriggled for a moment, its little teeth suddenly gripping my ungloved hand. It stared at me, as if waiting for a reaction.

"I thought you were friendly?" I mumbled, itching its neck with the same hand its teeth rested.

The cat seemed to change its mind, releasing me and licking its teeth like I didn't taste enough like fish.

Light shone from the cats exposed head as I sat on the bike, shaking my head. I placed the wrapped animal on the seat in front of me, and secured him in place using my jacket sleeves as ropes around my waist.

"Comfy you little rascal?" I asked the cat, tussling its blue furry head. It made a sound that was neither growl nor meow. Just a sound of disapproval.

"I'll take it," I scoffed lightly. Then the wind returned to my hair. To my face. To my icy skin. But this time, the needle rested on 50.

_

Authors note:

This is kinda fun to write so far because of how silly it is, even if there are serious aspects to it. I'm so used to doing world building and long fantasy books in other worlds, so this was entertaining so far. It's also more similar to the book ideas I used to have years ago but I never really got around to writing most of them. So there was something healing about this idk. Anywho, enjoy.