Sometimes you can get into really stupid or weird situations, and it's entirely your fault, while other times it can be someone else's fault. Sometimes it can be nobody's fault. Sometimes you can never tell.

That final one applies to me as to our... situation.

Oh, I said our situation, didn't I? I should probably explain from the beginning.

My name's Jack Luss. When this began, I was a thirty-six, nearly thirty-seven year old software engineer. I'll explain as we go on. I was single, had a good paying job, am interested in cars, at the time specifically sporty saloon cars, and had a group of friends that were interested in cars as well.

Your average Joe, then.

Except I'm not anymore.

My two best friends were Thomas Cooper, who, at the time this began, was 35, had a relationship with a woman named Cassie (I still have no idea how he does that while he drives an Audi), and worked as an electrical engineer, and Nathan Lang, who was 34, single like myself and worked as a maintenance manager. We were all good mates, we had a good laugh at the pub on a Friday night, occasionally doing some Uber driving when we feel like it and all own sporty saloon cars. Which are German. Lucky us, eh?

I owned a black Mercedes-Benz C 63 AMG, Thomas owned a red Audi S4 and Nathan had a blue BMW M3. So, you can imagine a bit of a... rivalry, formed between ourselves. Which, I have to say, was a bit pointless because the Merc was obviously the best car of the three, but that's not the point.

I remember that Friday as if it were yesterday. The night where we went down to the pub and decided to settle it once and for all, who had the best car out of all of us. It was just the normal thing at first, talking about work, things that had happened that week, nothing out of the usual at first.

But things got... let's say things got a little heated.

"So, this customer decides to be real cheeky today, of all days!" Nathan started explaining, clearly annoyed at this girl's attitude after he finished his Uber shift. "She came over to my car and says, 'Can ye just, like, hurry up? Ah havenae got much time!' and I say to her, 'You should've been ready earlier, then.' and she decides to start getting all cheeky with the 'Who do dae you 'hink yer talkin tae' crap. I had to put up with that shite for seventeen miles. Sometimes I really do hate being an Uber driver, HONESLY."

I must give Nathan credit for not losing his cool over customers like that. Out of the three of us, Nathan gets this behaviour the most and he has only lost his temper once. But that was his story to tell, not mine.

Probably got it for driving a BMW, but oh well.

"I know man, it's a load of bollocks sometimes," I reply, genuinely feeling sorry for him, because there's not a lot you can do when you're on the motorway. I then cheekily grin and say, as a joke, obviously, "You might get that for driving a Beemer though."

Now in a normal situation, Nathan would have laughed this off and then slag me about my Merc, and Thomas would just laugh at us from the sidelines as we end up constantly slagging each other until half 9 when we all leave and go home and do what we wanted on the Saturday.

But Nathan was, of course, quite annoyed by his day, since Friday nights were a lot of the time quite bad, and he might have had a few drinks, so things... may have been different in those circumstances.

"Ex-CUSE ME, JACK, but at least I don't drive around in some boring, black businessman's car because I lack actually being different, ya dick!" Nathan retorted.

And let's just say... things escalated from there.

In fact, it got to the point where Thomas got involved, and eventually after five minutes of low key arguing (only because we didn't want to disturb everyone else), Nathan stared at us with narrow eyes for several seconds, neither Thomas or myself being aware of what he was going to say. We looked at each other, bracing ourselves for a shouting match... that never came.

Instead, Nathan sat back in his chair, with a sort of smug look on his face that made me wonder what he was going to say, since we were expecting him to go full rage mode, maybe give my mum a run for her money.

"OK," He finally said to us, completely catching us off guard, as I was expecting him to say something completely different. "How aboot we settle this once and fir all?"

Thomas and I looked at each other, sly grins on our faces, knowing that he was asking us if we wanted to race him. We turn back to him and accepted.

"Sure thing, pal," I replied cockily. "Where is the finishing line, if you have one in mind?"

"In that case," he starts, shifting his eyes between the pair of us, the smug look still on his face, as if he'd been holding a royal flush. "We'll starting on the Sunday, at George Square, 5 o'clock. You can take any route from the start you like, but you've got to go through Erskine, whether you cross the Erskine bridge or go down the M8 and follow the M8 until you get to the Inverkip Marina."

I brighten up at hearing that. The Kip Marina was where the Boat Show was held each year. It was always a blast to go to - and not necessarily because of the boats. A lot of nice cars were shown off there - Tesla, Morgan, Bentley, Maserati, Porsche, McLaren - I could go on but that's going to take up too much time. We always had a load of fun whenever we went there - and this year was no different.

But, as per usual, I digress.

"Let me guess," Thomas said, wearing a similar smile to myself. "The Chartroom is the place we finish at?"

Nathan, still looking like a smug Simon Cowell, points his finger at Thomas and replies "That's the one. First one there has the fastest car - and the last one there..." he leans in close to us to finish what he is saying, "...has to pay for dinner."

I shot a smug smile myself towards Nathan, if he was asking for a race then he was asking to lose- both the race, and if Thomas wasn't stupid enough to go over the Erskine Bridge - then a large sum of money as well. "Bugger it. I'm in," I confirmed to him that I am definitely going to show up. "What about you, Coupsie?" I asked Nathan. Coupsie's just a nickname I gave him one night. I don't even know how it came about, but bugger it. It's not like it matters.

"Of course I'm in, ya dafty!" Thomas shot back, and then playfully slugs me in the arm. I laugh it off and turn back to Nathan.

"Excellent," he said, getting up at the same time and grabbing his coat. "So it's settled, then. 17:00, Glasgow Square. Then to the restaurant for 18:00, last one there has to pay. Deal?"

"Deal," Thomas and I said, almost synchronised, both of us, also getting up, preparing to leave. We've already paid our tab to the barman so we don't need to stay much longer. We shook hands with each other, Thomas and Nathan shaking first, then myself and Nathan, and finally myself and Thomas.

"In that case I shall see you train wrecks on Sunday." Thomas said to us both. "Until then - bye!" and with that he walked- no, staggered towards the door. He's definitely not working the Uber shift tomorrow.

And he has the audacity to call ME a train wreck!

Anyway, I decided to call it a day as well. This week has been a tough one and I figured I'd get some well earned rest. 40 odd hours of software development a week plus overtime is quite stressful for me, even if the pay is good.

"Nathan, see ya later, mate!" I called out to him as I was strolling out the front door and pull it open and began to walk to my car.

You see, unlike my friends, who can act like complete twats sometimes, I can actually set a limit for how much I can drink.

I unlock the car and get into it, and thanks to keyless entry, press the Start/Stop button to fire up the 4.0 Litre V8.

I'll never get used to how good that engine sounds.

And with that, I begin the drive back to my house in Partick, one of the better places to live in Glasgow. On a side note people always say to avoid the East End, and I would probably say the same thing. Every city has it's good and bad areas, and Glasgow is no different.

Eventually, I pull up beside my house and stop the engine. It's been a great night, apart from that fuss we had earlier. I'm sure we can just look past it.

I didn't know the time right now and there were no clocks so I looked at my watch. 22:21. Looks like we spent a bit longer at the pub than usual, I'm usually back for 5 past.

I grab the keys from my pocket and proceed to unlock the front door to my house. I made my way up to the second floor (or third floor if you call the ground floor the first floor) and got the key for my flat. I really don't care if living in a flat seems like a bad thing to others. If I can eat, sleep and live in it safely, then I don't care if it's detected or a flat or anything in between.

Once I was in, I got ready to sleep, as I'm really tired. This week has been a really hectic and tough one, so I'm glad I get to put my feet up, figuratively speaking. Sure, I had the Uber driving tomorrow, but it's not that bad. At least I'm wasn't going to wake up with a massive hangover tomorrow morning. *cough cough* Thomas *cough cough*

Soon I got into my bed and turned off my bedroom lamp off and got to sleep, surprisingly, not too long after.

Little did I know that life was going throw us all a massive curveball.

====================================

Saturday was as exciting as you could expect. Not a lot of customers were wanting a drive that day, which was wierd, but at least I didn't have to put up with some whiney college or uni students all day.

Eventually my shift ended so I had a few hours to kill until I decided to head home, so I went to the Cineworld with the IMAX and saw the Justice League movie that came out.

I walked out of the cinema disappointed. I was thinking maybe it wouldn't be trying too hard to be the Avengers and wouldn't be endless crappy looking CGI bullshit. Instead, I just watched DC's London has Fallen. Still, could be worse...

I decided to call it a day again and drove back to the house. I was going to do some work on my laptop at the house for a few hours, nothing too stressful, as I had literally nothing better to do.

Afterwards, I had enough and saved my work and shut down the laptop. I was going to take it tomorrow so I could possibly get some work done while we were at the restaurant. I closed the lid and set the computer and got changed for sleeping as usual. Heading back to the bed, I don't feel as tired as before but it was still 23:25 according to my alarm clock that sat on the cabinet and I wanted to get a relatively good sleep tonight because I sure as hell wasn't going to get one on the Sunday. I got to sleep again quickly after getting into bed, which is still unusual for me but I don't give a shit. Sleep is sleep. I might as well take it when I can.

====================================

Sunday was going to be quite a fun day. On Sunday we were going to find out who was the quickest at getting to the restaurant... and who was going to pay. And I knew the latter would not be me.

Unlikely, but still possible.

The rest of the day was me finishing some unfinished work, going on to Reddit, playing some Rainbow Six Siege on my PS4 and going to check Twitter and see who was saying what. But none of that matters.

I was the last one to arrive at George Square, at precisely 16:52. I headed down North Frederick Street and got to the Square.

As I drove in, I saw the other two had already parked their cars relatively close to each other and they were talking. They saw me and gestured me to come over. I moved into an empty spot, turned off the engine and got out. There was small talk for five minutes.

And then the time came for me to prove how much better my Mercedes was compared to the Audi and BMW.

Or so I thought.

"On the hour, the race begins, so get ready!" Nathan explains.

"Prepare to have the floor wiped with you and your cars!" Thomas bragged to both of us.

Did I ever mention that it used to be physically impossible for Thomas to ever be modest?

Heh... modesty. Thomas' worst nightmare.

Nathan started to count us down from ten, which he seemed make sound more serious as he got closer to zero, almost as if the British Grand Prix was about to start.

It's just a race on the M8, Nathan. Calm down.

"Three... Two... One... GO!"

With that, we ran to our cars and got in. Thanks to keyless entry and stuff, I was the first to start up, and I got out of George Square very quickly, followed relatively closely by Thomas. Nathan, on the other hand, could not start up his BMW first time. As the good friends that we were, we left him to try again.

We had two choices of where to go. We could either go over the Erskine Bridge, or we could take the M8. I took the M8, while Thomas, for some reason that was against all science, reasoning and logic took the Erskine road.

Later on I decided to call Thomas and see how he was doing.

"Jack..." was the response I got from the other end of the phone.

"Coupsie... Where are you now?" I ask him.

"I'm about to cross the Erskine Bridge in about two minutes, it was a lot quieter than I expected."

At this, I was extremely confused. There was no way he was just about to cross the Erskine Bridge and I hadn't passed it without him breaking the speed limit. Even if he had, he'd have to have sped past at least one of the speed cameras... If not having a police car chase him.

I may have been caught up in traffic, sue, but that was still really confused me.

"That means that yer... You're in front of me!" I exclaim.

I don't actually hear a boast from Thomas. Instead I hear, "Do ye know where Nathan is?"

"Aye, he's aboot a quarter of a mile back from where I am at the moment, he might be able to catch up with me in a couple o' minutes," I explained to Thomas.

"Right OK then Luss, I'll talk tae ye later, mate."

"See ya later."

With that, he hangs up, and I decided to pick up the pace.

"See you in hell, Nathan," I say to myself.

Within about two minutes, I drive a lot quicker than I was before (90mph) and end up driving underneath the curved road that follows the Erskine Bridge and sure enough, there was Thomas, turning onto the M8.

'I've got him.' I think to myself.

Unfortunately, though, Nathan had also caught up to us and it was neck and neck, with either myself or Nathan being able to overtake Thomas at any time.

For now, though, we all stayed in the same lane and there was nobody else on the motorway.

And that's when it happened.

A greyish coloured portal opened right in the middle of the road. It look like it has some force pulling everything towards it like a magnetic pulling a packet of paper clips towards it.

There was no way we'd stop in time. We just didn't have the distance.

Thomas fell through first, the wheels still spinning from his futile attempt in stopping the car. The portal, or wormhole, if you will, emitted white sparks the further the car fell through.

It was in that moment I realised I was next.

The car almost stopped fully when the car fell through. It was actually fast and simpler than I thought it would be. I landed upright on the other side and saw what looked like a terrace of houses to my left, and Thomas' Audi S4 to my front. Luckily I had stopped a small distance from the scarlet Audi so I had nothing to worry about. For the time being.

After a few seconds, Nathan's M3 followed suit. It continued for a few meters before coming to a halt. Shortly after this, the onyx portal got slightly larger for about three seconds before quickly imploding on itself, me watching from inside the car in awe at what I was witnessing. I guess going to the Rally is out of the question if I don't find a way back from here. Or going to the TCR and BTCC at Knockhill. BUGGER.

Sometimes I really do hate booking in advance.

Speaking of which, I never said where we ended up, did I?

Now that the portal was gone and I had no idea how to even bring it back, I get out of the car shut the door and take a glance at my surroundings, while Thomas got out of his car and did the same. What I saw was an absolute marvel to perceive.

It was like nothing I had ever seen before, the land was flat, but the buildings within the city were of... interesting architecture. Not that it was a bad thing, mind you. The most amazing thing about this city wasn't the architecture of the buildings, nor the city's long straight roads. It was the fact that I swore to myself, at the time, that the buildings looked like they were made from crystal. I later found out that they were, but that's not my point. And the height of the Crystal Castle in the centre of the city was... massive, to say the least.

You hear that, Dubai? Someone's giving you a run for your money!

Joking aside, the city was absolutely beautiful. I think it's probably one of the most drop-dead gorgeous places I have ever been to, and I've been to Toronto, Paris and Prague so that's saying quite a lot.

But that still really didn't answer the question which was burning at the back of our heads, which Thomas and I asked, coincidently, at the same time:

"Where the hell are we now?"

Let's say that we weren't quite prepared for the answer.