Fast and the Furious {NoLifer&Hal}

[hades.]

Brian Playfair, twenty-eight, of Denver, Colorado was a man down on his luck and his last dollar. He was a beautiful fuckup, always running from some sort of trouble. The trouble that shoved him from his home in search of hitting the race scenes of LA. A new start, a new clean record. At least these were the plans of a man who lived dangerously.

Fueling his habit for speed was expensive. He had yet to finish his car; a 90's fox body mustang that had been tediously tuned and tampered. It was white, faster than lightning, sitting at a low stance. Inside was a power plant pushing upwards of 780hp V8 with twin turbos and a 60/40 AWD system to keep the methed out machine sticking to the road. It was a short, stout, sleeper that had yet been colored in vinyl and fancy colors. It wasn't easy cramming so much hell into a tiny frame and honestly, it was suicide when considering the double shot of nitrous.

As he rode up to the scene, his mustang rumbling and roaring down the long line of cars that had more bells and whistles than motor. Not that he minded. He was confident. Convinced that his last few thousands of dollars would double tonight.

The car stalled into a spot.

Brian left the vehicle, leaning against it as he felt the eyes of non-believers. But in his icy cold hues was an iceman. A man who refused to cave to the pressures of patrons who can put their money where their mouth was. His hands ran through long dirty blonde locks that curled a few inches from the crown. He was scruffy, shaggy, and it showed in the way he dressed himself today with blue jeans, chuck taylors, and a simple plain white shirt. He had sleeves that showered down his arm, more up to his neck that seemed to elegantly define the jaw that drug on for days.

But out of the large crowd of rich boy wannabes, Brian was looking for someone. A woman who drove as skilled as he, a mystery that lured him to linger around...​

 

[NoLiferTheThird]

Mia Costa was a petite twenty-five year old whose family was well known in the underground race scene threw out North America. While she wasn't as much of a big shot as some of her other family, she was a force to be reckoned with in the LA scene. She started racing at the young age of fifteen when her father helped her build her first car. She didn't win her first race until the age of seventeen. It was a race she would always remember, she had built her Mada RX-7 from the ground up, replacing almost all of the stock components with upgraded gear. The stock 250hp car had become a roughly 350hp car, she faced off one of her friends that she had made through her couple of years of racing, whom she had lost to several times before. He had a mistubishi Evo X the only reason she won was because they raced on a stretch of road she was familiar with, one that had tight turns that her opponent wasn't used to.

After that she started racing for cars and thousands of dollars, through out her career she gained notoriety and over 100 cars, most of which she sold, or used for parts. This year she had a few last minute touches to finish on her newest prize, a Nissan GTR Nismo, She swapped out the stock 590hp engine with an upgraded, 6.2L supercharged V8 hellcat engine, which was pushing 790hp, she upgraded the braking system as well as added a single canister of Nos which was hidden under the passenger seat. She added a GTC-200 Spoiler on the back and headed out to meet everyone at the starting location.

When she arrived everyones heads turned, the engine was quite when she was coasting, she figured what better time to show off. She couldn't help but smirk and rev the engine a few times the engine roaring as she did so. Her car was painted a sleek dark steel color, with a cheeky 'Suck It' bumper sticker on the back. Normally she wasn't one to add stickers to her cars but she had gotten cocky and loved the thought of passing someone and them seeing the sticker on the back. She backed into her spot and shut off her engine before hopping out of the car. Her hair was long and jet black resting in the middle of her back, her skin was tan typical of someone who spent most of their times out doors and had Italian blood. Her attire consisted of a white cropped tank top that rested just above her navel, black jeans with holes in the knees, and simple white Air forces on her feet.

She walked around to the front of her car and popped her hood as a few men came over to check it out. She shook their hands smiling before she gestured to them that she was going to walk around a bit first, check out the competition. She had only brought a couple grand with her and of course the slip to her car. She wandered down the path of cars parked on either side. Her green eyes lingering on an older mustang Its rare to see cars like his, and I've never seen him before. She walked over to the blonde man and nodded at the car "What are you running under there?" Her hands were in the front pockets of her jeans

 

[hades.]

He watched as the main attraction rolled it. He bit into his cheek, his eyes narrowed as it passed. Nothing was more competitive than Godzilla and it showed in the life of fans. But it didn't sound like Godzilla, it was meaner, demanding more respect. He loved Skylines but the idea of affording such good place displacement and drive power in that style of luxury is something he had yet experienced.

"Now that's a real fucking car," Someone had yelled to the right of Brian. He hadn't let him rattle him. His car looked like a run down piece of shit compared, but he knew it well. Built it well. Brian had even replied, just throwing up a nod with a smirk. His elbow was placed on the roof, a finger running along the cold steel seam where the door sealed.

She was petite, each fender a flair that fluttered at his heart. He could feel his heart beating harder as she left the car to mingle with the company that hailed in a champion. Brian had finally found what it was he was looking for as she made her way towards him. He made eye contact, feeling the stinging of her mean green eyes. He looked away from them, never the type to gawk over the attention he was seeking. A left hand came up to scratch at his scruffy jawline, his four fingers reading; Fast. The other of course reading Drive but that hand managed to fit halfway into his tight blue jean pocket.

When she spoke he broke a handsome smile that played on a fake, sneaky shyness. She was the only one even interested in his car, or so it seemed when she inquired about the motor hiding under it. He lifted from against his car, exposing the only sticker he had on his car. It read: Pikes Peak, 7:18.139. The idea that any car under the sun could climb that dangerous Colorado mountain in such a time seemed nearly farfetched. 12.5 miles, 156 turns of unguarded death. He had claimed the life of numerous drivers, including his fathers. It was something he'd never forget when leaving turn 144.

"Fourbanger." Brian's smile stretched in his sarcasm. His teeth peeking behind his white pearly teeth as his lips peeled back. It was an insult, not to her, but to the man who threw shade next to him. It was rude to not lift the hood when people found interest as Brian caught her eyes again and winked. He moved past her in that silent walk away as he moved to pull the pins from his hood. He lifted it to show a motor that cost more than the clunk of aged metal he caged himself in. A Shelby 5.8 supercharger, except was no supercharger, instead Hellion twin turbos that rejected the notion of intercooling and a beer can of a wastegate. To anyone looking and knowing what they were looking at, could see Brian was a mad, mechanical misfit. Worthy of challenging anyone bold enough to try and race against his pale pony he named Death.

"Shelby 5.8, Hellion twin-turbo, about 16.9 boost per, and a double shot of firewater. AWD." He bragged. It required cutting back the firewall, truck springs to be fitted to hold the weight. The battery and electrical components couldn't fit, all having to be rerouted into the rear of his nub tailed fox body. It was screaming American AE86. Something he'd never seen on the road or could find and when he couldn't buy one he built one. His way.​

 

[NoLiferTheThird]

Mia couldn't help but notice the sticker that was revealed when the man moved She noted the time and made a mental note to ask the man about it. She had never been there and wondered what it was about. Her attention was taken off the sticker as the man spoke her brows raising as though to say Yeah I'm sure. When he removed the pins and lifted the hood her expression changed to that of surprise. Moving from her spot further back from the car she walked directly up to the side of it looking down at the engine and the missing components, The battery and electrical were gone.

She couldn't help but scratch the back of her head "Shit. You're crazy, putting that, in a shit box like this. Got a death wish? How sure are you this bucket of junk won't fall apart in a race?" She laughed softly as she put her right hand on her hip. This man was crazy, smart but crazy, he had himself a sleeper, anyone who hadn't been smart enough to ask to look under the hood and race against this guy would've surely been surprised. Surely being to cocky at the beginning causing them to fuck up and lose even if they had a better car than him.

"Yo!" She hollered at some people nearby "This crazy fool put a beast in this old body! Check it out" Shortly after she spoke a crowd of people had wandered over curious to see what the fuss was about. If Mia said something was worth looking at of course people would come look. The crowd murmured amongst one another as they checked out the engine one by one "Who thinks I can beat him?" She asked the crowd, majority of which hooted and hollered at her agreeing with her "She reached into her back pocket pulling out a wad of cash "Five thousand, About half a mile down the road there's a little diner that stands alone from the rest of the buildings, First one there wins?" She asked the man holding up the money above her head for the crowd to see

"I'm dying for a race that's a bit more interesting, I haven't lost a race in over two years. Plus I know everyone here" She paused walking up to the man and pulling her left hand out of her pocket, she pressed her index finger to his chest glancing up at him "except you. I'm Mia, by the way, I run this scene" She smirked "I'm sure you saw my car when I pulled in, I drove right past you, Nissan GT-R Nismo, 6.2 Supercharged V8, Single shot of Nos. You're more than welcome to take a peek under my hood if you want to before you make your decision Pretty boy." She was obviously flirting with the man, however it was more manipulative than honest flirtation. She removed her finger from his chest and placed that hand on her hip the other one resting at her side with the money.

 

[hades.]

He was certain the saddled bullet would reach its target, though nothing is ever certain. The body was old, its bolts rusted in place, and the power inside made some wonder how the chassis wouldn't churn like butter. Perhaps it was his death wish, his fate. His father had died by 2° offset angle and .002 of a second reflex that sent him hurling into the air of a bottomless cliff, caused by an under calculated clunk of clay and corrosion that crumbled down onto the road. His best friend had died by Brian's thirst for throttles and whiskey bottles, slamming into a concrete corner that carved through a mountainside tunnel that left him dead inside.

Still, he pursued to put his life on the line, always pushing the boundaries of time. And all these grim unspoken details struck his face in mystery and melancholy; lips smirking to deceive sadly decorated eyes of dismay, a brush of along the back of his neck, a shuffle of his heel, as one other hand pushed deeper into his pockets to expose the skin to peek out amidst the white shirt and exposing the hem of gray Tommy Hilfiger trunks.

"Mm, Maybe I do." He acknowledged his fortuitous fate he fiend for in a devilish and devious wink that handsomely hummed-- I'll knock ten years off your life, love. He thrived to be as impressive as the car that sealed and symbolized the pathos of the man before her.

"Brian, but they often call me Colorado." A rebel without a cause, a speed freaking James fucking Dean that wore his smokes on his sleeve. The thoughts of death on his mind called the clutch of nicotine and he culled caring any longer. If he could only move past it could he feel the warmth of daylight again as he moved around the country like a vampire, slithering soberly to the song of the has been that never fucking was. Back home he was a legend, a rockstar who jumped out of a hotel room to land into a void he'd been trying to drive out of every sense. Ego was a powerful fuck, a true puppet master of the mind.

He drew his cigarette like a cowboy; squinting his left eye and pinching it like a joint. He exhaled, listening, glad he had the chance to hit it before the crowd caged him. He was antisocial, claustrophobic to the crowd that came around him, bumping and nudging at him. He could feel hands creepily check his back pockets to pick as people pummeled him to peer at what he defined as a mechanical masterpiece. This is why he never wore a wallet to these crowds, instead, fetching a fat money roll from one of the prizes bulging in his tight blue jeans.

"Yeah, I heard you coming first. Nice little ride. I take it that daddy didn't buy it for you." It wasn't as condescending as it was a confident compliment. He wasn't exactly sure what powerplant was pushing that beast of the east, but it roared like an American mountain lion. A car fanatic just knows a Mopar upon hearing them just as one knows the soothing sounds of Shelby.

There was a beautiful lady next to them in a neon green bikini and beautiful breast. He knew the routine. Handing it over to her but not once did his eyes look away from Mia's more modest green hues. Phew. $5000? He hoped he wasn't about to bite off more than he could chew.

"I need speed, not eye candy. How 'bout you show me what's under that hood after I buy you a milkshake with your money." He replied boldly. He liked how she dished flirt and fire like a decadent dessert, He hit his cigarette with one more puff before exhaling and throwing it down between his feet. He couldn't quit the nic, but he could kick it on just a few drags to race through the roads of tragedy and trauma. He scuffed out the cherry with his clean but worn Chucks.​

 

[NoLiferTheThird]

She couldn't help but smirk when the man commented on her statement regarding him having a death wish, and the wink "Yeah, You seem like a man with one." She laughed softly. This man was something else, Mia couldn't quite put her finger on it, was he just cocky? or did he really have a death wish? "Well Colorado, welcome to Los Angeles, glad you could find our little group" She watched as the man lit up a cigarette "Nasty habit you got." She shook her head softly watching him with a pitiful look. What a typical man, Mysterious, Smoker, Into cars. While she didn't actually mind smokers she couldn't help but feel drawn to tease the man about it.

She watched as he pulled out a roll of money from his jeans and nodded approvingly. So she was going to race him, god she hoped she won. It would be embarrassing to lose to this man, sure he had a good engine but he was new on the scene, arrogant, and his car was barely held together. This beat up thing vs her nice new car that she put tens of thousands of dollars into and countless hours of labor. Not only would she lose respect in the underground racing world, her family would be sure to give her shit about it.

"hm? Daddy? Nah, My family builds and buys their own cars. That's all me, hundreds of races won, a hundred cars taken from my opponents. You are in for the race of your life darling." She leaned over and handed the woman in the neon green bikini her stack of cash her eyes also not leaving the mans blue ones. "I hate to burst your bubble sweet cheeks, but I really hope that wasn't all the money you have to your name, 'cause you won't be buying me a milkshake. I tell you what, I'll be nice when I win, I'll buy you a burger" She paused looking him up and down before speaking once more "you look hungry." She winked at him, copying the wink he gave her earlier, Devilish and devious.

"We got ourselves a race boys!!" She smirked before walking up next to him but facing the opposite direction "I hope once you lose you come back and try again, Or at least, don't let this be the last time I see you." she reached up tapping his shoulder gently with her right hand before walking off towards her car. The crowd that was around the man dispersed, most of which were likely running to their cars to get to the finish line in order to see who won. She put the hood of her car down and secured it before speaking with a man next to her "Alright get the streets blocked off. Let's give this guy the best chance he can get." She laughed.

The man she spoke to hurried around the crowd talking to several different people who all got in their cars and drove off towards the finish line, four cars at each intersection, two on each side to block any oncoming traffic. Mia started her car and revved her engine as she peered across the cars between her and Brian. As she did so she reached down into one of her pockets and pulled out a hair tie, She pulled her hair up into a high ponytail before pulling out of her spot and up to the starting line that was marked by people standing across the road.

 

[hades.]

The sun reddened the rocky mountains, as Colorado blushed upon her warm welcoming. Acceptance was hardly a feeling this loner felt often. A loner with an abundance of nasty habits. What could he say, he was a man who craved mud. "What good habit isn't nasty?"

Including his poor choice of diet and lack of food from being too busy to eat. It was a chore, a shackle on his ankle, bondage by time. When was the last time he ate? Were the drugs and cigarettes causing his stomach to growl and grumble? He couldn't help but rub his stomach, lifting his shirt to show his scrawny, tight, 1993 tattooed, rockstar stomach catering to a concert inside. Fans packed around him, laughing along with him, as she pointed out just how bad he did need a burger. He owned it, at least, this was a make or break moment. Gambling, another nasty habit but it was what got him thus far.

"Oh, I'll come crawling back for more." But he wasn't planning on it. Looking back towards his pale, steady steed. It would take a long time to drop the last dime he had. He couldn't even imagine the wear this was going to cause on the old tin can. But fuck it, right?

He opened the door. Rusty door hinges groaned in an age that rumbled over baron bellies and giggling girls. From one side of it, one could easily calculate this dumbfuck was not going to win. Some were surprised it wouldn't blow up like a bomb upon arriving at Mel's Drive-in. When he cranked the motor over, the echo against the wall could almost deafen ears. And the smell of cutoff catalytic converters fumed the foul smell of carbon, eggs from a bad plug, as soot coughed out and cleared its throat. It winded and revved like an industrial chainsaw, shaking in raw power that caused the hood to hum and ripple. People started stepping back from the man gassing the bomb. The body looked scared to fucking death, the motor begging to release from the engine bolts to fly over the moon.

And the bastard just smiled. Smiled at her from across from him as he started to slowly pull out into his lane. He warmed his tires, a strategy he used by break locking and clutch work. It was a slow dance that would soon become salsa at the drop of a neon green bikini bra; left toes clutch, left heel brake, right foot gas, idling up as clutch and brake locked. The engine buckled as the front springs lifted, his rear end started to spin first before the front tires responded through his tuning in timing, holding it and teasing the front tires of his AWD setup, keeping them cooled to give him the understeer he needed. The fire was blowing out behind the dense cloud of smoke. A strange hissing noise as turbos started to suck in the cool LA night. The power of 6,500 RPMs, begging to redline at 8,700.


He looked over, peering at her as he watched her put up her hair. She looked nicer, her face more open to observation. Brian would be lying if he said he didn't find her beautiful. Her olive Italian skin and attitude made his heart skip like a skipping stone across a rapid Colorado river. A drag race, pfft, childsplay. He could drive this car in a straight blindfolded, what another way to impress a would-be rival, then the notorious stare and drive. The man didn't need to see the woman's breast or the neon green top hit the road, waving like a bright green flag that sounded off the races in his peripherals. Just those eyes from across the lane, taunting and flirting with her. A face sculpted into a thousand words, with a smug smile and soft eyes that ached to wink at her just before the bra hit the ground. A wink that carried a message -- catch me if you can.​

 

[NoLiferTheThird]

Mia couldn't help but laugh as the man showed his stomach, Seemed she was correct in her assumption, When his car turned over she couldn't help but laugh softly There was no way that thing was making it to the finish line. He needs to win the race so he can ditch that rusty tired old body and get an upgrade with the ten large he would be getting. Unfortunately, he would actually have to win for that, and she wasn't planning on going easy on him. As she waited at the line she watched through her rear view mirror as bystanders moved out of his way, some coughing and waving their hands to fend off the smoke cloud he had produced "Show off" She whispered smirking and rolling her eyes.

When the bucket of junk rolled up next to her she couldn't help but smile at him, He's going down. She tilted her head from side to side cracking her neck on each side before interlocking her fingers together and extending her arms her fingers cracking. She put one hand on the steering wheel, and one hand on the knob in the center counsel She nodded to the girl in the bikini before glancing over at the other man. Did he intend on staring at her the entire time? Her brows furrowed watching him. Arrogant, she was correct on that aspect of her judgement of the man, He was definitely arrogant. Too bad for him his ego would be bruised and his pockets empty in the next minute. She was distracted, and forgot about the race for a moment, His arrogance was confusing her and yet she was enthralled by him. The bra hit the floor and he winked before taking off, It took her a split second to realize what had happened the crowd around her murmuring in confusion. He only had a tiny head start, but she was sure she could catch him. She shoved her foot on the gas, and her car hurled forward. He would not win by distracting her, She was furious. How could some stupid man distract her like this. Her car roared as she sped up, catching up to him in no time, Her left foot hitting the clutch with perfect timing as she continued to shift. Her pride and joy purred with each shift. When she caught up to him she smirked and gave him a cheeky wink before turning her head forward once more.

The win was so close, She could taste it. Wait... What is that? Cops? Here? Now? What the fuck, how did they know where they were. Cops had blocked off the road infront of the drive in. Most of the cops were still in their cars, prepared to chase after them. Two cops stood out front, with odd guns in their hands, She had never seen weapons like those. What ever they were she was sure she could avoid them. her eyes darted to the man her mind racing as she glanced around trying to think of the best way out of this. She reached down to her front pocket where she had stashed her phone and quickly pressed a single number, speed dial, to one of the boys back at the starting line. Now that she thought of it she didnt see any of the other cars that had come up to block off the roads, granted the roads were clear which was odd for this time of night. "Yo, Cops, Get out of there! Meet back at the house!" She hung up and shoved the phone into her pocket. She slammed on her breaks just before the road block The cops didn't move yet. Fear was written all over her face, She had never been this close to being caught. She glanced in her rear view mirror and noted an alleyway a block back, That was her only chance for escape, Brian could figure shit out himself, she just met him, if he got arrested it wouldn't matter to him. She stared at the cops before smirking, She could do this. She threw her car in reverse speeding backwards before she heard a clank and her car started to smoke. "What the fuck!?" She tried pressing the gas, her dash lights were off and the car was just sputtering and smoking. She looked up to see the cops walking towards her. "Fuck this." She hopped out of the car not even looking back at the man and ran as fast as she could towards the alley way, The cops were running after her but they were out of shape and didn't run very fast, Once in the alley she continued to run her mind racing. Where could she hide, There weren't many places to dip into and blend in that wouldn't snitch on her, the neighborhood locals hated her, she always raced in this area, cops hardly ever came down here. and they never had such a coordinated attack. Six blocks up, Theres a parking garage, Perhaps she could hide there. It would be risky but it's the only place she could think of.

 

[hades.]

Colorado's cold eyes had shifted from her sight and into the rearview in his launch that sent her barreling through a cloud of smoke like a bullet, causing the smoke to ring at the choir of eight squealing tires. He could feel the warmth if your headlights were spreading across the interior of his car as if the sun had lifted into the sky. As she caught up, starting to pass, he could feel the current that sucked them closer together. She leads an inch; he took two, only to lose three more; it was a beautiful game of back and forth. Until he went blinded by a bright light that prismed through to pierce his eyes that sent him to swerve into her lane, nearly catching her rear-end if it had not been swift bashing of the brakes that sent the mustang to buckle.

As his sights came seconds later, he saw it. He saw it all. The cops and blue lights, the helicopter, and its blinding light, and Mia and her Skyline sparkling and spraying shocks and static as an EMP-Claw tore into her hood. Her power was cut, her rear lights fluttered before flying away in the cold night. Again he nearly slammed into her ass, hopping up onto the curb sidewalk before taking the lead. Mia was still trying to scrape and salvage her sports car while Brian did what he did best— piss off the law.

One edge eroded as it engraved a dent into one of the police vehicles. Brian threw the car around and around, sending up a cloud of smoke as he tried to count the rays of blue coming through the smog. It was all he knew left to do—buying time, stalling what was becoming more and more of the inevitable. Brian had been imprisoned before; he had been in and out of juvenile and child development centers, and as far back as he could remember, he hated authority. He wasn't sure what told him to reverse when he did, but he hadn't been more engaged into the gear before a cop car cruised by to slam into another cop.

The device hit his hood, barely taking root before being flung off the hood as the mustang roared back around to flee from the police. His brown curled in anger seeing Mia's Skyline abandoned, circuits fried, and missing. Had they got her? He didn't know her, but he had hoped not as he turned into the carport. He wasn't trying to find her per se in the hot pursuit until she stood out like a sore thumb. His heart was racing, his forehead sweating, his heartbeat was rising so rapidly it could explode out of his chest. He slammed on the brakes before skidding beside her.

"Mia…" He struggled a second for his words.

"Get in!" Brian cried out, ice blue hues drawing like a moth to the blue lights coming in from the entrance.

Fuck. He thought. It was going to be nearly impossible to get away now. Maybe it was best if they were caught, but the answer was more straightforward when Mia entered the Mustang. He felt his spine straighten, his mind more clairvoyant, his spirit ready to show off and steal her away from this shitshow.​

 

[NoLiferTheThird]

Mia's mind was racing as she walked through the car park. Who had ratted them out, no one in her crew would dare do that. Was it someone else that was in the crowd tonight? Would she even be able to escape. She hadn't been to jail yet, however she had no intention on going. Her last boyfriend had died in jail, shanked by a man he had pissed off while inside. Knowing her big mouth she knew she would end up pissing some people off as well. Her delicate hands found their way to her hair as she slid the hair tie out of her hair and roughed up her long locks to have them fall around her face. She slipped the thin black hair tie around her wrist before crossing her arms below her chest.

What were those guns that had drained her car. Destroyed her baby. It would surely be impounded or crushed. If she was able to get it back could they even fix what was wrong with it? How much would she have to spend to get it running again. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a car pulling into the car park, Her head turned and her body tensed as she turned to look at what she could only assume would be a police cruiser. Boy was she wrong, How did this man get away from the cops. She stood frozen as the man drove near not even the sound of the squealing brakes could break her fear. His voice rang out and she just stood there, dumbfounded, His voice sounded again and she seemed to snap back to reality.

She looked towards the entrance of the car park briefly before she hurried over to the car. She grasped the door handle and pulled the door open, the door creaking and popping as any older vehicle would. She climbed in and shut the door looking over at the other man. "How did you get away? Why~" Her sentence was stopped abruptly at the sight of blue flashing lights coming from the entrance. She was shaken to the core, this was it, there was no way they could escape, not that she could see at least. She couldn't show fear however, this man while he may be here with her when no one else was, was still a stranger.

"Brian....." She spoke, though her voice was only slightly more than a whisper. She glanced towards the other man before looking back at the police. She was riding shot gun in a vehicle that terrified her. She knew what this had under the hood but she wasn't sure the body could withstand a police chase.

"If you can get us out of this mess, my house is roughly two miles to the east, There's an empty garage we could park your car in, I'll even let you come in and drink a beer and feed you." She let out a gentle but shaken laugh trying to hide how nervous she was.