#mad93

The sprint race, if it can be called a race for them, only dragged them down. Three DNFs, all from Lydon trying to pull a move around his teammate. Both McLarens were gone, and Judas only made it meters further than the pair.

-

Green gloves crumpled down the wall, useless against gravity as they hit the ground. Judas stood in silence as he stared at his discarded gloves, one tense exhale leaving his chest.

That lamb. The lamb that followed him everywhere. The one that smudged his reputation, that reveled in destroying his peace and the undoing of his races.

That vile creature had struck again.

Another slow inhale, and Judas slowly brushed off his race suit. His plucked his gloves off the tile flooring. Each thumb of the glove was pressed into the center before placing them together and into the corner of a shelf.

-

L. Lambert - 1:21 pm

Mate, where are you?

Didn't know that was your car

L. Lambert - 1:26 pm

I saw a replay

I lokk dumb as hell

*look

See u later?

Judas stared at his phone on the table, the texts that lit up the screen.

Let me go.

Get me out.

Why does he keep trying? Only an imbecile would keep this up. There was no love. Not in anything he did. He bit. He insulted. He tore the wool off piece by piece, he left Lydon exposed and vulnerable through every word he wrote in his journals.

Every conversation was unlined with despair and hatred.

Sent - 1:35 pm

Focus on yourself, Lamb.

I will not engage with any pitiful apologies you have to offer.

Fuji - @sunsayrain308

Holló - @l0vagrend