I rushed towards Antwerp bar on my bike, knowing that I was already an hour late for the game night. I took too much time deciding what to wear between a gingham shirt and a plaid top that I almost lost track of time.

I arrived Antwerp Bar to find Abs and the guys were not in sight.

'Damn it!' I cussed.

They have hopped on another bar without me. I pulled out my phone from my jeans pocket and dialed up for Abs. 10 rings with no answer which sent my call straight to voicemail. I cursed again.

I putted on my helmet and approached the bike before hopped in, pedaling away. I cycled around town with no specific direction from Princess Road down towards Moss Lane and before heading up to Lloyd Street North.

Mixed emotions running through my nerves. I know they have the tendency for bar hopping but most of the times were so random that I wasn't sure where to start. My frustration grew upon Abs for not updating me on their whereabouts.

After half an hour cycling with no specific destination, I gave up my search and decided to retreat to my flat. Picturing myself sipping a cup of tea infused with lemons while finishing off Justice League film on my laptop could nurse away the weariness for this evening.

I passed Curry Mile when I noticed a blue Mercedes Benz-McLaren SLR drove slowly behind me without taking over. I reckoned that I was being followed, but Curry Mile is known for being congested at 8.00 pm onwards, nobody could drive more than 40mph at this hour. I must not be paranoid at this juncture.

But as I entered Moss Lane, the vehicle followed behind. My anxiety rose in fear. From Moss Lane, I steered my bike into the junction of Heald Grove lane with a 'No Entry' sign erected by the corner.

I test my initial instinct, any no-brainer who sees the sign would understand that no cars can enter this lane as it is one-way for cars coming from the other side. But the SLR ignored the sign and turned left into Heald Grove as predicted.

"Shit!" I spat, pedalled harder towards the other end of the lane. To my alarm, a black G-Wagon approached from the other end, came in faster towards my direction. "Fuck!" I exclaimed and veered the bike away from it.

I cycled towards the pavement on my left in an attempt to pass through SLR but I underestimated what the driver would do next. The door of the driver side swung open and banged me hard, tossing me backwards. I slammed onto the pavement from the impact while my bike was thrown to the side.

Nick came out from the SLR tried to reach me.

I sensed that the G-Wagon behind me was with him, driving in closer to the pavement. Without hesitation, I forced myself up and sprinted on top of his SLR, clambered over the vehicle roof and ignored his shouting. I unbuckled my helmet to see my way clearly and chucked it at Nick before he dodged away.

Panting hard, I scrambled onto a 4ft wall barrier of a nearby car wash station out of convenience and proximity. I felt slightly regret that the car wash had closed its operation for the day, otherwise I could get help from any of its employees. I mounted onto a zinc partition behind the barrier before jumping towards the roof of the facility.

Nick and his guy followed behind with an intense speed. I crawled faster to the other end of the roof as my lungs heated up. I did parkour I never knew I could.

A couple of shots were fired aimlessly towards me to curb me from running. I flinched by its ear splitting sound so my landing from the roof wasn't smooth, I fell flat to the ground. I heard the sound of crack on my ribs and my knees from the impact. The pain was so indescribably agonising, I was unable to withstand it for a moment.

I mustered a push and headed towards the drying station. But my vision doubled and became unclear while cool air prickled my scorching lungs as I breathed, causing me to stumble. My pace slowed down from the pain pulsating my internal organs.