Pitbabe S2, Chapter 13 pg3

Pitbabe S2, Chapter 13 pg3

   I can say I’m obsessed with a lot of things. I used to love astronomy and robotics. Honestly, I still do, but they’ve slipped down the priority list compared to other things. Then came racing, physics (especially quantum mechanics). Now, I’m pretty into vaccine production, human rights, and politics, obviously.

   My interests jump around without boundaries. I’ve never limited myself to one field, just let myself flow with the current of life. Whatever I stumble into, if it makes my heart race and feel a bit electric, I dive in and study it seriously. That’s my way of living.

   Babe is one of my greatest passions.

   I try not to sound too obsessed with Babe to avoid coming off as creepy, so I leave the judging to others. Let them whisper in my ear or gossip behind my back—it’s fine. The point is, I like Babe so much that everything about him fascinates me. Every time I look at him, I gather bits of information, sometimes unintentionally. My subconscious admires him and stores it all in my brain. It’s not just his personal history or his likes and dislikes—it’s everything that makes up the human being called Babe. The rhythm of his steps, the tone of his voice, the frequency of his blinks, even the shifts in his breathing. I memorize and understand how it all works without effort. I’m absolutely certain I’m the person who sees Babe’s true self most clearly in this entire world.

   But everything came crashing down the moment Babe spat out those words—claiming I was his possession, demanding I abandon everything for him, not caring who lived or died, treating the death of a close friend as just a sad but annoying memory, never understanding even a fraction of me, pretending he did, and blaming me for making him this way.

   I don’t know him anymore.

   “Who is you?” That used to be an easier question than a kindergarten entrance exam, but now it’s one no degree can answer.

   If I strip away the romantic feelings, what I still have for him is intense respect. Not just because he’s a skilled race car driver, but for the things Babe values. He values himself above all else in the world, loving and respecting himself fiercely. Babe values justice, whether on the racetrack or in the world he lives in. He values relationships over status or blood ties. He doesn’t call Tony or even Uncle Rewan “family,” but uses that word for Phii Alan, who’s really just a stranger. Babe likes to say he’s selfish, that he doesn’t care about anyone, but his actions are full of warm, heartfelt care.

   That’s the Babe who’s lived in my heart since day one, but now I don’t know where he’s gone.

   The Babe standing in front of me… he’s like a stranger.

   He doesn’t care about anyone, not even me, the one he claims to love above all else. Now, Babe looks at me like I’m his property, a toy he won’t let any friend touch, a dog that can’t have other dog friends or a favorite toy. This dog can only play with the toys he places in front of it, and only with him. Even if he sees me as a person, I’d have to be one without a soul or free will. My likes, beliefs, and desires must revolve around him. I have no right to resist. I must be blind, deaf, and mute for him.

   “What does Babe mean by that?”

   I’m hurt.

   I’m angry.

   I’m disappointed.

   “Is you saying it’s because of me that you’re like this?”

   I’m hopeless.

   I’m exhausted.

   I was terrified.

   “Did I make you like this?”

   “Yes.”

   He answered without hesitation.

   “Did I… make you unhappy?”

   So many emotions were overwhelming me, suffocating me.

   “If you mean right now… yes,” he replied softly, as soft as the first time he told me he loved me. “How could I be happy like this?”

   I love him.

   I love him.

   I love him.

   “So what does you want me to do?” My strength was fading, making it hard even to move my lips to speak. Looking into Babe’s eyes used to be a small joy for me. Now it was difficult and painful. Every time we fought, I always wanted to hug him, but today… I thought better of it. “What you said earlier… did you really mean it?”

   “If I didn’t mean it, I wouldn’t have said it,” Babe said, avoiding my gaze, but I could tell he wasn’t lying. “You said it yourself—I’m a terrible liar.”

   “You want me to give up everything to be with you, Babe?”

   “Yes.”

   What did Babe call this?

   Is this what he does because he loves me? Then why don’t I feel it?

   “Can you do it?” he asked me. His heart must be clouded with murky feelings right now, the only light being the hope he held for my answer. That faint glimmer in his eyes weighed heavily on my shoulders. “Racing’s still fine. We can still race together.”

   “Do you really think this would work, Babe?”

   “At least it’d be better than now.”

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