The city was barely asleep when Sophie pulled into the quiet alley behind the old diner. Her hands were still buzzing from the adrenaline of the night’s drive, but her feet were itching to do more. She knew what she had to do.

The Mustang’s headlights flickered before going dark, leaving the car submerged in shadow. Sophie smiled to herself. The night was hers, and no one was around to stop her.

Slipping out of the driver’s seat, she opened the hood and checked the engine. Not that it mattered much — the car had been well-tuned, ready for this moment. She shut the hood with a soft thud and climbed back in, her bare feet immediately reaching for the pedals.

A twist of the key and the engine grumbled awake, slow at first, then louder as she pumped the gas pedal. The Mustang groaned, almost like it was waking from a deep sleep. Sophie pushed the pedal deeper, letting the growl fill the alley, testing the limits.

“Come on, baby,” she muttered under her breath. She slammed her foot down, holding the revs high as the tach needle bounced wildly. The car’s response was immediate — a brutal roar that made the air vibrate, shaking the nearby windows.

Sophie leaned into the wheel, her toes dancing from the clutch to the gas, playing the pedal like a musical instrument. The exhaust shot out thick clouds, and for a moment, she lost herself in the sound, the power, the rebellion of it all.

Finally, she let it drop back to an idle, feeling the pulse of the engine under her skin. Sophie sighed contentedly, hands still gripping the wheel. “That was just the beginning,” she whispered.

Tomorrow night, she’d do it again. Louder, faster, until the whole city knew what it meant to feel alive.