Gabriel is behind the wheel and has most definitely looked happier in the past. Michael's expression is difficult to dissect thanks to the Ray Ban sunglasses obscuring his eyes from sight and the cardboard Starbucks cup that seems to be permanently bonded to his lips.
(Michael): I really don't see why we couldn't have booked flights to Portland, Gabriel.
Gabriel keeps his eyes on the road but can sense his brother's irritation a mile away.
(Gabriel): Look, I'm just not in the mood to sit on a plane for five hours, all cooped up and everything after what happened in Iran.
Michael this time turns his head, pushing the aviators down the bridge of his nose so that his eyes become visible for the firs time and he tilts his head forward slightly.
(Michael): So instead, you want to drive near enough a thousand miles that will take…
Michael narrows his eyes as he appears to be making a mental calculation, mouthing numbers, his head swaying from side to side in a slight motion. Gabriel interrupts him though, knowing the answer already.
(Gabriel): Fourteen hours and eighty-eight minutes to be precise. Portland is approximately eight-hundred-and-twenty-six miles away so if you feel like dozing off for a few hours, feel free.
(Michael): Do you want to drive eight-hundred-and-twenty-six miles because Anton and Davis defeated us in Iran?
Gabriel breathes in heavily through his nose before responding.
(Gabriel): No, I want to drive eight-hundred-and-twenty-six miles because I’d like to get some air in my lungs and clear my head after we were nearly killed in Iran, Michael.
Michael holds his hands up innocence after placing his coffee in a cup holder positioned just in front of the gear stick. He smiles at his brother's fiery nature.
(Michael): Okay, okay! I actually think it was kind of refreshing to lose at Havoc to be honest, looking back on it.
Gabriel's face is the picture-perfect description of nonplussed but still keeps his eyes firmly on the road.
(Gabriel): And how did you possibly come to that conclusion? I know you like to be very philosophical and over-analyse everything but how can you possibly take any positives from losing to a team we know that we can beat and beat soundly.
Michael just smiles, as if he knew that was the reaction he'd get.
(Michael): Well for one, it's a little reality check.
Gabriel scoffs at Michael's first point, dismissing it with a wave of a free hand, the other still on the steering wheel.
(Michael): What? It just shows, no matter how good a team you are, there's always going to be surprises and DNA caught us off guard at Havoc. It brings us back down to earth a little, enables us to look at our next match with a different perspective. After all, as the saying goes, you're only as good as your last match, and as far as that is concerned, right now we're not that good.
(Gabriel): That is a load of bull, Michael. DNA got lucky, they seen an opening, took a shot and it paid off, pure and simple. No one's seen hide nor hair of them since Havoc, anyway and if they do take the tag straps from TNT, you can be damned sure they're not going to be holding them for long.
(Michael): Easy, brother, you're missing the bigger picture. Both DNA and TNT are not where our focus should be right now. Draconis and Anarchist Vampire are our main and only priority right now. We defeat them at Road to Ruin and then we can worry about either Anton and Davis or Shakir and Evers.
A defeated sigh comes from Gabriel, seeing his younger brother's point of view.
(Gabriel): I guess so…
(Michael): I know so, and besides….
Michael takes an intermission through his sentence by taking another long drink from his coffee before he continues.
(Michael): Draconis' head is so far in the clouds about his match with Hans, he won't be able to concentrate on us at all. And this Anarchist Vampire character….well I hate to sound cocky before I've even seen someone compete….but I'd say we're a pretty safe bet if all goes to plan.
(Gabriel): Yeah, well, we'll see after Road to Ruin.
Michael takes off his aviators, hooking one of the legs on the collar of his t-shirt before adjusting his seat so it reclines backwards somewhat.
(Michael): Anyway, I'm going to get some shut eye, wake me up in a few hours and I'll drive the afternoon shift.
(Gabriel): No bother.
Michael closes his eyes, adjusting himself into a more comfortable position for sleeping as Gabriel's eyes keep themselves trained on the road in front of him as the scene concludes and fades to black.
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