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skyesins · 4 years

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Blind Spot | BBH | 009

By day, Baekhyun is an ordinary car mechanic. By night, he’s a legendary street racer known as Lux. Bored of your normality and entranced by Baekhyun and the illegal nightlife of street racing, you follow him into a wild world filled with secrets where speed isn’t just a drug; it’s a lifestyle, and crashing and burning is inevitable.

How fast is too fast? For Baekhyun, it’s only fitting that “too fast” isn’t until he reaches terminal velocity.

CHARACTERS: You as “Ange” + Baekhyun, Kyungsoo, EXO, and more.

AU(s): mechanic!baekhyun, streetracer!baekhyun, streetracer!au

GENRES: angst, drama, romance, some action and thriller elements, smut in later chapters

WARNINGS: cursing

LENGTH: 12.2k words

MASTERLIST ➸ 001 / 002 / 003 / 004 / 005 / 006 / 007 / 008 / 009

Official Playlist: Spotify

Author’s Note: Please let me know what you think since this is quite a big chapter!!

Tag List: @bobohumyonlyboo @bbhsweets @baekklove @sunbyun21 @247byun @veeyu @bbhl @simondominic-oh-oh @christiandosworld @blushinyouth @blvckdseouls @riajae @dokifox @lovelini @marovekian1 @insta1010 @itsbaekhyunsbutt @emoans @gyukult @baekpedia @baekmack @defluenza @billboard-singer @puppyeoliepop @gotarmyofexolcarats @jekylluv @bbyunz @peachthi @ncweab @zoe-and-kpop @sebootyforlife @minseokscock @honeyboocal @daffodilyellow @exosallure @exodropthat @blanknearvana @wonusbitch @hyuniebaby @flowerboydejun @hajooeun @justzeera @echodawn22626 @xlxbaekhyuneex @honeyutas @persila @shadoukiti @kihy4n @myboyixing @minaces

If you’d like to be tagged for future chapters, please let me know!

There are two cars parked adjacent of each other. Both have a boy sitting on their hoods. The one on the left has outrageously red hair that matches the color of his car, and his laugh is so loud that it seems to echo through the empty fields surrounding him. Meanwhile, the one on the right is quiet—and not just in sound. Unlike the vibrant boy sitting next to him, the one on the right is dressed in nothing but black: black beanie, black bomber, black jeans. Even his car has black rims.

There are two cars parked adjacent of each other, and both have a boy sitting on their hoods, but only one of those boys is Baekhyun. Only one has viscerally affected you in a way that you never thought possible, and it’s not the boy who comes running to you, pleading with apology; it’s the boy who acts like he can’t feel a thing, the boy with a strong forehead and brow that he often hides, the boy who torturously keeps himself at bay. The B in Baekhyun stands for blasé, remember?

You barely listen to the red-haired boy as he babbles since you’re too busy looking at Baekhyun. He’s staring right back at you, undoubtedly recalling everything that has transposed in the last month.

“I’m so sorry that I had to cancel. I-I-I-I really wanted to hang out with you, but-but you know how it is.”

Mark is still stammering over his words, and you’re trying not to smile because Baekhyun is sitting just a few meters away on the hood of his pretty Supra—and he’s not trying to suppress anything like you are. He sits there like a king, his legs parted, and chin slightly raised in a show of knowingness. Even in a such an open setting flanked merely by sky and land, the air still manages to grow thick with tension, and it’s all because of him.

“It’s fine, Mark,” you reassure the boy for the third time. “There’s more weekends in the year for us to hang out.” Before he has the chance to apologize for the fourth time, however, you walk over to Baekhyun who has now uncrossed his arms. He smiles at you, and you feel your cheeks burn with information undisclosed to Mark. “H-Hey,” you say to Baekhyun. “Are we doing any work today?”

Today is that Friday—the Friday of the monthly street race hosted by the apparent gangs of Daegu. You assume that’s why Mark is here with his red Chevrolet and why Baekhyun has taken his Supra out of its usual place in the rear garage; they must be running practice laps together, right?

“No, we were just taking a break,” Baekhyun answers. “I’m practicing my handles for the tight corners.”

“Tonight, it’s closed circuit,” Mark interjects, and you turn to him for explanation. “They have certain streets closed so we can use them as a track. It goes all the way from—”

“Mark,” Baekhyun interrupts by clearing his throat, “get me some water.”

“O-Oh, sure, boss, I’ll be right back.”

With Baekhyun’s simple request, Mark runs off into the distance, his red hair bouncing as he takes a stride. That leaves you alone with Baekhyun, and it’s at that point that you can no longer contain your emotions. One look at Baekhyun’s calmly grinning face, and your façade is suddenly breaking.

“Why’re you smiling so much?” you tease him. “Are you even actually thirsty or did you just want Mark to shut up?”

“Something like that.” Baekhyun moves his body to make room for you on the hood of his car. “Come on. Don’t just stand there. I feel weird.”

“You feel weird? I feel weird,” you remark. “You’re always telling me not to get any of your cars dirty.”

“Well, everything’s different today. Tonight…” Baekhyun takes a sharp intake of breath that coincides with the breeze. It’s almost March so the wind’s bite doesn’t cut as deep as it does in January, but it’s enough to make you shiver. You keep your legs crossed as you join him on his car. “Tonight’s the last the race in Korea for a while,” Baekhyun continues in a quiet voice. “Next month, they’re saying Dubai, and after that, they’re thinking about Manila.”

Dubai? Manila? You mean I’m not going to see you? As much as you wants to ask Baekhyun about the possible new locations of the races that he’s mentioning, you’re more concerned about not seeing him for extended periods of time.

“Who’s ‘they’ and why do they have races out of the country?” you query instead. “Do I have to be worried about not seeing you again?”

Baekhyun lets out a breathy chuckle. “I’m not leaving the country, Angel. I’m just saying—I might be gone for a few days at a time.”

“But why? Why are they making the races there and not here?”

“Because I don’t know the roads there, and I know someone’s praying that I’ll crash.” Baekhyun sighs deeply and shakes his head. Like usual, he just feels so far away despite being physically present. You want to comfort him, but there’s no comforting a person whose mind is worried and stretched thin over a hundred other things. “This is the dirty part of racing here,” Baekhyun grumbles. “The rich assholes can never get enough, so people like me get fucked.”

“But you’re good though, aren’t you? You’re the best, right?” You can only look to Baekhyun’s furrowed brows for answers because he has his head low. “Right? Baekhyun?”

“Manifest it,” he murmurs after a moment. He straightens his slumped back and rises to his feet. When you turn to follow suit, you notice that Mark is back with a bottle of water.

“I’m sorry, boss,” Mark says, “but the water in the fridge wasn’t cold enough—”

“It’s fine,” Baekhyun waves him off. “I’m not that thirsty. Let’s do some more laps.”

“But boss—”

“Come on, Mark, we don’t have all day.”

You hop off the hood of Baekhyun’s car when it’s clear that they’re really about to start more practice laps. Baekhyun is already in his driver seat, and Mark looks at his boss and down at the water bottle in his hand but ultimately turns and walks to his car. They leave you standing awkwardly by yourself until Baekhyun lowers his window.

“Hey, Angel,” Baekhyun shouts, drawing your attention. “Go stand over there.” You look at where his finger is pointing: a crudely drawn white line on the cracking asphalt. “Be the flag girl,” Baekhyun says, “and start the lap for us.”

Flag girl?

“I-I-I don’t have a flag, though,” you stammer. “How—”

“Your arm,” Baekhyun assures you with a playful roll of his eyes. He laughs upon your realization and drives his car forward to the white line. Mark follows him there, leaving you to speed walk to catch up.

When you do reach the white line, you think about the few movies that you’ve seen with street races and how there’s always a pretty girl with a short skirt and a crop top that starts the race. The girl almost always has some sort of flag that she uses, but in the cases that she doesn’t have one, also uses her arms. It seems simple enough to you, but your cheeks burn with slight embarrassment because you know that you’re not as pretty as those girls in those movies. What’s worse is that you’re starting a race between two boys who have intertwined themselves in your life; it would be easier if they were merely strangers.

“Do you know how to count off?” Mark yells from his car, and you glare at him through squinted eyes.

“Mark, I’m not stupid,” you yell back. “I know what I’m doing!”

But do you really?

You take a deep breath as you eye Baekhyun and Mark through the windshields of their cars. Mark looks more tense than Baekhyun, and you can clearly see that he has his hand fisted around his steering wheel in a vice-like grip. On the other hand, Baekhyun watches you carefully, like he’s more interested in anticipating your next actions than what he has to do—and unlike Mark, Baekhyun is tapping his fingers against his steering wheel. While Mark twists his mouth and takes heaving breaths, Baekhyun remains unblinking as he openly stares at you.

“Ready?” you murmur at first, but Baekhyun raises his brow so you take a deep breath and raise your voice. “Ready?” You’re yelling now, and so are the cars of the two boys.

Baekhyun’s Supra sounds about a hundred times fiercer than any of his other cars, and it’s terrifying to you that you can feel its engine vibrations on your ribs. In addition, Mark’s Camaro only pours more fuel to the flame in your stomach by contributing to the hearty sound of revving engines. You’re standing a good half-meter away from both cars, but the heat and sound that they emanate disturbs you, ruins your equilibrium, and sends you into an entirely different universe where the tension poisons the air to the point of suffocation.

Indeed, it is hard to breathe.

“Set…”

You raise your arms in the air, and the sound of the engines grow louder. Your heart pounds as you glance at Baekhyun who has stopped tapping his fingers. He stares right back at you, but like all those other times, his eyes don’t merely make contact with yours; they peer farther, dig deeper—almost as if he’s looking directly into your soul. That very gaze, with those dark eyes, almost makes you forget what you’re doing, but Baekhyun presses harder into his gas pedal and causes his engine to roar.

Like that, you’re back.

“GO!”

You snap your arms down to your side, and the two cars flanking you zoom forward. In less than two seconds, both Baekhyun and Mark are several dozen meters behind you and quickly widening the already broad gap. Pretty soon, the cars are only small dots in the horizon.

Taking a shaky step back from the paved asphalt, you relax your tense shoulders and release the pressure in your clenched jaw.

You hate fast cars. Your parents died because of a fast car. You got a panic attack and blacked out in a fast car. You hate them. They’re nothing but trouble. Fast cars never led to good outcomes—only accidents and reports of crashes. That’s all that comes out of driving fast cars: accidents, crashes, and ultimately death. Right? You hate them for that. A fast car was the reason your parents died. You hate fast cars. Right?

Yeah, I hate fast cars, you think.

- - - - -

Baekhyun wins the small race against Mark—inevitably. While Mark walks out of his car looking dejected, Baekhyun strides out and makes a beeline for you. He’s all smiles and laughter as Mark opens the water bottle from earlier and drinks it in silence.

“Angel,” Baekhyun says, already walking you back to his workshop, “you saw that, right? Pretty impressive, don’t you think?”

You giggle and look over your shoulder to see Mark sulking by his car. “Yeah, I guess, but you were literally racing against your assistant,” you tease. “You beat him by 30 seconds, but aren’t you supposed to?”

“Fair enough. I guess it’s you that I have to please instead of the crowd tonight.”

“Anything you’ll do will impress me,” you assure Baekhyun. Only a few minutes ago, Baekhyun swerved his car—“drifted” as you recall him explaining to you one day—in a showman-like performance to add insult to injury as he beat Mark’s finishing time by a lot. You, of course, didn’t keep time, but Baekhyun had been counting. In fact, 35 seconds was the first thing that he yelled out of his window when Mark’s car crossed the finishing line. “I’m easily amused,” you continue. “Just beat everyone, and I’ll think you’re a legend.”

“Sounds like a plan.” Baekhyun leads you past his collection of cars and into the upstairs section that serves as his storage-turned-living-quarters. Although you have only been up here a few times, his bed is always made, and everything is as neat as can be. “By the way, Miss I-Love-Puffy-Jackets, help me out,” Baekhyun says as he opens a tall wardrobe. “What should I wear for tonight?”

Your mouth falls slightly ajar upon seeing what appears to be all of Baekhyun’s clothes for the first time. As much as your heart races at his new nickname for you, you’re more invested in having the opportunity to see another small detail about him. The first impression that you get is that he really doesn’t care much for what he wears since your wardrobe holds about five times more than his does. Your second impression is that he loves the color back. In fact, more than a hefty 80-percent of his clothes are completely black. 15-percent are a mix of dark colors—mostly dark blue, but there are also some dark reds and dark greens—and the remaining is a jumbled mess of light colors that range from washed-out blue jeans to white dress shirts that you would have never guessed him to own.

“Do you only have like three pairs of jeans?” you ask out loud. You don’t mean for it to sound offensive, but Baekhyun replies in a clearly defensive stance.

“I asked you for advice on what I should wear,” Baekhyun states. “I didn’t ask for judgement, Angel.”

“Right, right…” You cough awkwardly and quickly make yourself seem busy with sifting through his clothes. “What’s the dress code?”

“Anything that’ll look good for a street race and an afterparty.”

Afterparty? You have to admire how confident Baekhyun is in his driving abilities. He’s already anticipating an afterparty despite the race not having started yet.

“Okay, I can think of something…” You hum to yourself as you pick through Baekhyun’s rather simple collection of clothing. It’s not that he’s wearing the same thing every day; it’s that he has multiple and identical black t-shirts, so there isn’t much variation in his wardrobe. However, he’s not completely hopeless since you quickly find something that catches your eye. “Um, why don’t you wear colors more often? This shirt—” You take out a blue, long-sleeved and satin button-up. “—would look so good on you.”

“I don’t like that shirt, though.”

“Why do you have it then?”

Baekhyun completely ignores your perfectly reasonable question and takes out a black bomber jacket almost identical to the one that he’s already wearing. “What about this? This is one of my favorites, and it’s warm too.”

“It looks like the one that you have on.”

“No, it doesn’t. This one gives off a different mood.”

“Uh, no, it doesn’t,” you retort. Baekhyun doesn’t seem too open to your suggestion of wearing the navy-blue satin button-up, however, so you put it back into his wardrobe. “Whatever,” you mutter. “Just wear what you want since being edgy in all-black is your signature, Lux.”

You feel Baekhyun’s eyes on you, but you ignore it and pretend to be more interested in the fact that he arranges his clothes from darkest to least dark. On the very left side of his wardrobe are all of his black clothing, and on the very right are the few white shirts that he owns. It amuses you that he would sort out his clothes like that since he doesn’t seem to put much thought in how scary he perpetually looks by choosing to wear black all the time.

“I can come, right?” you ask after a few moments of silence. “To your race?”

“As long as you don’t get yourself into trouble, yeah, I can get Mimi to drive you to a good spot.”

Wait a second… Mimi?

You feel your stomach drop. Although you have never had an active urge to pursue finally obtaining your driver’s license, you feel one now. Oh, how you wish that you had a license so that you wouldn’t need to have Mimi drive you.

“Why can’t you drive me?” you inquire with an arched brow. “Am I too much of a liability for you or what?”

Again, you don’t mean for it to sound so offensive, but Baekhyun stares at you like you just called him a bitch. “No,” Baekhyun claims. “What the hell—Angel. It’s closed-circuit, so we’ll be driving around town. You’ll better off watching from a high place than where the actual race starts.” He tilts his head to get a better look at you. “I can drive you to the start, though, if that’s what you want—and if you wanna chill with Mark there, that’s fine too.”

You want to slap your forehead in shame. You’re making it too obvious that hearing Mimi’s name causes you to feel unsolicited anger. Baekhyun’s explanation makes perfect sense, and now you look like an idiot.

“I’ll just go with Mimi,” you murmur. “Can you introduce us first, though? I—”

“She already knows you, don’t worry about it.”

“What do you mean—”

Baekhyun shoves the jacket that he had been holding back into his closet. “Do you think maybe I should just wear a sweater? Or would that make me look too nice?”

You purse your lips, disappointed, at Baekhyun’s evasion of your questions. “Wear that shirt I pulled out or just wear something with color. You wear black too much, and as long as you push your hair out of your face, you won’t look like a honeybun.”

Baekhyun freezes in place and turns to you with furrowed brows. “Honeybun?” he whispers the word at first, seemingly unsure of what it is or what it means. “Honeybun,” he repeats. Then he tilts his head, once more looking like you have deeply offended him—only this time, he looks more surprised than anything. “You think I look like a honeybun?”

The pure innocence of the question paired with the setting—he’s Byun Baekhyun, and he’s getting ready for an illegal street race with extremely high stakes—is so ridiculous to you that you sputter out a laugh.

“Yeah,” you mumble, trying to stifle more laughter. “Good luck with the outfit, Baekhyun. I’m going to check on Mark.”

- - - - -

“Should I be worried about you going out nearly every Friday and Saturday night now?” Kyungsoo leans his shoulder against the doorframe of your bedroom as you finish zipping up your boots. Since the forecast for late in the night includes the very last tidbits of February snow, you decide to go along with a pair of black thigh-highs to match your feathery jacket. “Also, should I be worried that you’re dressing like that to allegedly meet some mysterious friend?”

“I’m not going on a date,” you reassure your brother. You take a lint-roller and make sure that there isn’t any hair on your coral pink dress. “I told you. Her name is Mimi, and she works with Baekhyun too, so I trust her. We’re literally just going out to do…girly stuff, you know? That’s why I wanna dress up.”

“Mmhmm.” Kyungsoo is going off with his big brother voice again. “What happened to that Mark kid, by the way? You still hang out with him?”

“Sometimes.” You grab your phone from its charging stand and shove it inside the inner pocket of your jacket. Kyungsoo is blocking the doorway, so you’re left to stand there and look at him while he disapproves of your outfit with his mere gaze. “Kyungsoo,” you plead, “I’m 20. You can’t keep telling me that I can’t dress a certain way—and this dress isn’t that bad because it’s freezing out.” Kyungsoo continues to look at you with doubt, so you start whining. “You’re being stupid again, Soo. I’m an adult now. I can—”

“Listen,” Kyungsoo interrupts softly, “I know. Okay? I know. I’m just looking out for you since it’s dangerous out.”

“I already know that, though. You don’t—”

“Ange, listen to me.” Kyungsoo takes off his glasses, and he only ever does it when he’s about to say something that’s actually quite serious. Your attention having now piqued, you relax your shoulders to hear what he has to say. “There’s a lot of bad people out there, alright? Sometimes you think a person is your friend, someone you can trust until bam.” He claps his hands together for effect. “The worst betrayals are always from people that you’re closest to.”

You take a moment to absorb the words. You know what they mean after a second, but you don’t know how to apply them to yourself even after a minute. Well, you do, but you don’t want to think about that—about a reality where Kyungsoo knows about Baekhyun and Baekhyun’s life. That would mean he—your brother—willingly allowed you to work with only the city’s (maybe the country’s) most famous street racer. It’s a reality too farfetched, however, so you rule that out and assume that he’s warning you about your own ability to make friends too easily.

“Okay,” you mumble. “I’ll keep that in my mind.”

“That’s right,” Kyungsoo says, finally allowing you to walk past him. “Be aware of who your real friends are.”

“Alright, alright, I got it.” You check your phone for Mimi’s text message. When Baekhyun gave you Mimi’s number, he said that she’d text you upon arrival. “I’ll be fine, Soo. You’ve taught me that already.”

“Oh, and if I don’t answer your calls in time, call Baekhyun. He’s a good guy, and I really trust him.”

You smile, and it’s not just because Mimi has finally sent you a text; it’s also because Kyungsoo brought up Baekhyun. Baekhyun—whether he’s Lux or himself—is indeed a good guy. With that, you turn to your brother who has joined you by the entrance to his apartment and give him a crushing hug. While he huffs at the suddenness, you squeeze harder.

“Thanks, Kyungsoo,” you whisper before pulling away. “I’ll try not to stay out too late.”

“You better not, Ange, or I swear….”

After bidding Kyungsoo goodnight and having him watch you cross the street to where Mimi has parked her silver Hyundai, you join Mimi in the warmth of her car. Upon closing the door, you immediately notice the little bits of personality that Mimi has placed into her car. Like Yuqi on that night when she also gave you a ride, Mimi’s dashboard has an array of KakaoTalk Friends bobbleheads. In the ventilation shaft of the middle console is a red plug-in that makes the car smell like strawberries. Hanging from the rearview mirror is a small crescent moon necklace that swings back and forth. The last thing that you take note of is a parking ticket’s yellow edges peeking out of the glovebox.

“Hey,” you say as you buckles your seatbelt. “It’s good to see you again.”

“Likewise,” Mimi beams back. Her cheeks mold into little balls when she smiles. “Are you going to the afterparty by any chance?”

“Uh, yeah, why?”

“Oh, it just looks like you’re dressed for it.” Mimi gestures to herself and her simpler outfit—dark jeans and a red hoodie. Unlike you, she isn’t wearing much makeup either. In fact, you can only make out the soft shine on her lips as clear lip gloss, and the blush on her cheeks seems to be a product of the cold than actual cosmetics. “Are you going with Lux?”

“Uh, yeah, something like that.”

Truth be told, you (once again, to the point that it should be no surprise) have no idea of what you’re doing or what you intend to do, but you’re the type to just go for it and see what happens.

“Cool,” Mimi remarks absentmindedly, already starting to drive down the street. “So, luckily there’s a lot of tall buildings where we can see the race from, and they always have people livestreaming from drones too, so I don’t think we’ll have a problem with watching.”

“Sounds good.”

You cringe inwardly at your stilted conversation but keep yourself composed to save face. Although Mimi seems nice enough on the outside, you still have to put up a fight against the unexplainable jealousy and anger that you feel in this moment. It’s absolutely irrational, but it makes you uncomfortable to sit in the same car as the other girl that Baekhyun was texting. You don’t even know what they were texting about, and you don’t have much proof of a relationship between the two, but you somehow feel bitter.

“So where are you from?” Mimi asks to break the silence. “I’m from Vietnam.”

“I’m from here,” you reply with a shrug. “My parents are from Seoul, and I’ve been living in Korea for most of my life, but I was born in France. That’s why my mom named me after the word for Angel. Ahnjj.”

“Ange,” Mimi says out loud, mimicking the way you said it with a slight French accent. “It’s good to hear you say it since I’ve only heard Baekhyun call you Angel, and I’m pretty sure that Mark’s been pronouncing it wrong.”

“Oh, he definitely has. It’s kinda cute though, so I don’t really mind.”

The conversation halts there again, and you would much rather prefer to jump out of the car than stay inside to bear the awkward silence. Fortunately, Mimi is already pulling up to a small apartment building that’s only a few streets away from a main road that has already been barricaded to form a pathway.

“That’s the starting and finishing line,” Mimi says. “That intersection right there.”

Mimi doesn’t specify which intersection she’s talking about, but she doesn’t have to; crowds of people congregate by a particular street, and there are already cars as elegant as Baekhyun’s waiting on the starting line. You don’t spot his black Supra, but you do catch a glimpse of what appears to be Mark’s red Camaro parked on the sidelines.

“Do you know if Lux’s here yet?” you query while you crane your head for one last glance.

“No, he usually comes last minute because that’s when the most people are watching.”

Mimi parks her car outside of the apartment building that seems to act as a host venue for viewing the street race. There are at least a few dozen chattering people loitering in the parking lot, and you assume them to be illegal gamblers. Once inside the actual building and in the elevator leading to the roof, it’s no different. You and Mimi share your elevator with a raucous group of teenage boys talking about stats—and Lux is the most frequent name that they use besides Loey.

Upon exiting the elevator, you’re surprised by the new atmosphere that seems to have overtaken the roof. When you roamed the rooftops of Paris back in France, it was usually dark and dirty—and very lonely even if you went with a group of friends. However, tonight, this rooftop in downtown Daegu is positively alive.

People have set up blankets and beanbags by the edges of the rooftop closest to the main road while others are fixing together a wall of television screens with live feeds of the skyline. You also spot a select few individuals with their laptops poised on one leg while the other has a drone. What’s even more is impressive is that there are actually people who have brought portable grills up there and are now cooking and selling meals. There’s even a guy selling soju out of crates. It’s nothing like you have ever seen up close in your life, and it opens your eyes to what the world has become.

It’s 2060, the world ended decades ago, and this mixture of doing what’s right and what feels right is the new norm. Everyone knows that street racing is illegal, yet here they all are.

“Does this happen every month?” you ask Mimi as the two of you take up an unoccupied area by the northeast corner of the roof. From here, they have a clear view of the intersection where the race begins. “People just get together on rooftops?”

“Yeah, it’s been like this since the Great Famine apparently.”

“It’s really cool,” you remark, genuinely impressed by the micro-community that has formed here for the night.

“Yeah, it’s really chill. People say it’s dangerous to go out at night, but they have no idea that there’s still a lot of decent people left in the world.” Mimi starts fumbling around in her tote bag and takes out a small pair of binoculars. She hands it to you, and you take it with great curiosity. “That’s for the race, by the way,” Mimi explains as she continues ruffling through her bag before taking out a box of Pepero sticks. “Maybe you can spot Lux now.”

At the mention of the ever-mysterious Lux, you quickly peer through Mimi’s binoculars to observe the race that’s just about to begin.

It takes you a moment to adjust the focus of the binoculars, but when you do, you almost immediately find Lux leaning against his black Supra. You have to take a breath to absorb the sight of him because like the shock that you felt when he said your real name for the first time, you didn’t expect this to happen; you didn’t expect for him to take your advice and wear something that isn’t black. Granted, he’s wearing a color that’s very close to being black, but it’s still something.

Under his black leather jacket, you can clearly see the glints of silver of his necklace, and below that necklace, he’s wearing the dark blue sweater that he thought made him look soft. Though he probably didn’t need to hear it from you, he has also styled his hair so that purposely loose strands fall over his forehead in a seemingly effortless fashion. His undercut is on show and so is his forehead.

Proud that he took your advice, you bite your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard. This is the first time that you have seen Baekhyun wear color during the night, and somehow it feels like the start of something great.

Mimi must be busy with eating the bags of snacks that she brought up with her because you don’t hear a word from the girl. Of course, you can’t care any less. You continue to peer through the binoculars to watch Baekhyun—in his Lux persona—talk with a few of the people standing on the sidelines. In addition to that, you also take careful note of his competitors.

“Loey,” as you heard from earlier, is the one that’s driving a bright-orange Ferrari according to what you overhear from the people behind her. You spot “Loey” right away as well since he has gone the Mark route of dyeing his hair an obnoxious color—a silvery-white. Loey’s car is also parked right next to Baekhyun’s, but you still struggle to get a good glance of his face since he’s moving around so much, and the race is starting to commence, so all the drivers are getting prepped inside their cars.

Baekhyun is the last one to saunter over to the driver’s side of his Supra, and it’s his seemingly relaxed movement that gets a group of fans by the sideline to yell Lux so loud that you hear it from the rooftop.

“Are you seeing this?” you ask Mimi. “So many people love him.”

“Being a legend does that, I heard.”

“It’s insane…” you murmur to yourself. “Is he really that good at driving?”

Apparently, he is—and much better. Much, much better.

The race begins like they do in those movies; a pretty girl strides to the center lane which is empty of cars. She holds a flag that she holds above her head and makes a motion with it that you don’t know how to decipher. Presumably, the flag girl is signaling for the drivers to get ready because when she flicks the flag towards one direction, everyone begins to rev their engines—and it’s loud. Although you’re situated far away from the main road, you can feel phantoms of the vibrations coming from the superpowered cars.

As if the air is growling and no one else is brave enough to make a sound, tension flirts with the stars, and you swear that everything around is throbbing. Your heartbeat is in your ears, and breathing is suddenly a manual, voluntary action.

Then, without warning, the flag girl waves her arms down, and the drivers pull forward.

Lux is the first one across the street, but he’s only in the lead by half a meter. Loey follows him closely, and you grit your teeth together as you wince at the thought of their speed. When you stood between Lux and Mark’s cars from earlier, they sped off so quickly that you nearly lost your balance from the sudden shift in the air. Standing there, at the sidelines must be a million times more jolting, but the crowd only erupts in cheers as the cars take off with thunderously loud engine revving and exhaust pops.

The race is now underway.

Mimi’s binoculars quickly become useless, so you have to peer over Mimi’s shoulders to watch the drone footage of the cars making their way through Daegu on someone’s laptop.

Every other car entered in tonight’s race is some outrageous color beside Lux’s who, of course, has the only black car in the race. While his competitors have cars that are lime green or electric orange, Lux’s car is a subjectively boring color. Still, his car stands out from his brightly colored competitors, making it easier for you to follow when the drone footage becomes saturated with neon lights that decorate some of the buildings in Daegu.

“Loey’s gonna win!” someone yells from the crowd behind you, and you dig your nails into your palms when they appear to be correct.

Loey’s driving tactics are overly aggressive: at first, he tries to pressure Lux into the barricades that block the streets from the shops, but Lux finds a way out of that trap by decelerating the speed of his car. Of course, that comes with a price, and Loey pulls ahead, followed by a teal car. Lux is left trying to escape the sandwich of other cars just behind Loey’s.

“The roundabout is coming!”

What the fuck’s a roundabout? You have no time to wonder. You only see the cars approach a circular road that wraps around some sort of fountain or statue, and it’s at that point where Lux takes an advantage once more.

Lux has definitely practiced; that, or he’s just good with maneuvering his car in such a way that leaves tire marks on the pavement as he drifts through the roundabout. It’s a tight curve, and most of his competitors take the time to slow down, but Lux moves through the minor obstacle like butter. Only Loey and two other cars are as capable as Lux, and they follow him down a winding path that leads to the heart of Daegu.

Whoever made the circuit for tonight’s race has purposely placed obstacles such as a garbage bins and food carts to block the path, and seeing Lux have to maneuver past them nearly gives you a panic attack when you recall that night where you and Baekhyun were chased through streets.

“How do you watch this?” you murmur to Mimi. “This is so nerve wracking.”

“Just breathe,” Mimi whispers back. “Or look away.”

That’s exactly what you do: look away. In fact, you’re so startled by seeing how the race progresses that you don’t look at the laptop with the live feed for several minutes. Instead, you actually try to talk to Mimi in order to ease your anxiety.

“Who are you texting?” you ask when you notice that Mimi isn’t watching the race any longer either.

“Mark.”

“Oh, that’s cool.”

“Not really,” Mimi says under her breath. Her face is lit up from her phone, so you can tell that she’s not too happy by something Mark has said. “I know this is a weird thing to ask since I kinda just started talking to you today, but…” Mimi hesitates for a moment, making you feel an added weight of stress on her shoulders. “Do you like Mark?” Mimi finally asks after hesitating. She looks towards you with her lip curled slightly at the end. “Like, do you have feelings for Mark?”

“Huh?”

“Do you like Mark?” Mimi repeats. “Do you have a crush on him?”

“Wait, what? What are you talking—” you cut yourself off. You may be stupid, but you’re not so clueless that you can’t read Mimi. “What’s Mark saying about me?” You ask, now frustrated at the idea of the boy talking about you. “Is he beating himself up for how Ba—Lux—made him too busy to hang out with me?”

Mimi stares at you, and the two of you hold some sort of staring contest before Mimi breaks the tension by shaking her head.

“It wasn’t Lux,” Mimi grumbles. “It was me. I got Lux to cancel any of Mark’s plans last week by making him busy.” Mimi glares at her phone with a deep scowl stretched across her features. “That way, I’d have time to surprise Mark with something that I’ve been working to get shipped here, but all he did was…ugh.” She locks her phone and throws it into her tote bag. “And now he’s saying that he still thinks you’re into him.”

“Huh?” Your jaw drops while your head spins with the onslaught of new information.

If Baekhyun was merely doing Mimi a favor by making Mark busy, then Baekhyun wasn’t planning on doing anything with you. He probably only took you out on that drive out of pity, right? After all, he only asked when he knew that Mark would be cancelling his plans with you. Yes, that must be correct. Baekhyun also undoubtedly saw Mark kiss you, so he most likely got the idea that you were interested in Mark even though you’re repulsed by the fact that you let that happen, and it all makes sense now. That’s why Baekhyun was acting that way on that night: avoidant and broodier than usual. He was probably uncomfortable with spending time with you.

You slump in your seat in defeat. For the entire week, you had been thinking that maybe Baekhyun actually sort of liked you too. After all, he called you by your real name. As it turns out, maybe it’s just him retiring Angel because he thinks that you like Mark.

“I hate it here,” you murmur to herself. You glance towards Mimi who looks about just as sulky as you do. “By the way,” you says to her lowly to ensure that no one hears, “I don’t like Mark. I like the guy who he works for.”

With that, you stand up to get away from…here.

“Wait.” You turn and see Mimi packing up her stuff. “I’m coming with you,” Mimi says with a huff. “I really—I really need to talk about this since it’s been bothering the hell out of me.”

“And what’s that?”

“Let’s go back to my car, and I’ll tell you.”

- - - - -

Once you and Mimi are seated comfortably in Mimi’s car, you continue to sulk out of embarrassment and disappointment until Mimi breaks the silence by exploding into a ramble of pent-up feelings.

“Basically, Mark is fucking stupid,” Mimi spits as she waves her hands for effect. “I’ve liked him for two years now, and he never knows anything because he’s stupid. Like Jesus fuck, he’s stupid.” Mimi pauses to take a breath but resumes with her angry huffs quickly. “I’ve seen him go after like three different girls,” she says, “and they all reject him, and he comes running to me like I’m a cum rag.” You frown at the vulgar term, but Mimi has no time to care about her words. “I literally spent so much time trying to get him this vintage gaming console from Japan, but all he could do was complain about how no girls want him, and it makes no sense considering I’ve been right here!”

As Mimi goes off with her rant, you pretend to be a diligent listener since you know how important it is to just vent. Seeing Mimi so worked up over Mark is only a sign that she has held these thoughts too close to her heart for far too long. You feel sorry for her, truly, but your own mind is elsewhere.

It isn’t Mark’s fault that Baekhyun may have gotten the wrong idea; it’s yours. You should have pushed Mark away and told him that he was ugly or something. That way, you wouldn’t be in this mess of once again doubting where you stand with Baekhyun.

“And I wish I could give up on him,” Mimi exclaims. “I wish—I fucking wish—that I could just look at his face and not find him cute anymore. I wish I could just forget what his name was, but I can’t.” She takes another breath and kicks her foot against the car door. “Somehow, I’m still putting up with his shit, and it’s bothering me so bad that I’m yelling at a stranger.”

“It’s fine. Venting is a form of therapy too.”

“I’m sorry,” Mimi apologizes anyways. “I-I-I shouldn’t have said anything. This was so unnecessary, and I-I-I was literally just supposed to drive you to—”

“It’s fine,” you reassert. “I learned a lot anyways. In fact, I think I learned enough.”

There’s a short silence.

“What do you mean?” Mimi asks, your eyes wide with curiosity. “What’d you learn?”

“Well, for sure, there isn’t anything going between you and Baekhyun.” you roll your eyes when you realize that you have referred to him by his real name. “Or Lux. Or whatever he calls himself. I don’t really care.”

“Wait why would you think that?” Mimi inquires. “He’s literally one of my boss’s clients, and he helps me out with stuff from time to time. We’re just friends—”

It’s your turn to be irritated. “Yeah, well, Mark isn’t the only stupid one here making assumptions,” you mutter with a scoff. “I don’t know why I thought you guys had a thing, I just did, and now I look stupid.”

“But why?” Mimi continues to press. “Why would you think that? Isn’t it—” Mimi abruptly cuts herself short, and you don’t try to fill in the blanks with more assumptions because that’s the last thing that the two of you need.

When the silence ices over, it’s you that break through it. “Is the race over yet?” you ask. “How long do they usually go on for?”

Mimi taps her phone, and the time flashes onto the screen. 8:34PM. “The main race is over,” she answers. “There’s amateur ones after, but Lux doesn’t race in those. Do you wanna go or…?”

You sigh. You may as well. As disappointed as you are, the only reason why you came to tonight’s race was to see Baekhyun, and he knows that you’re here as well, so leaving before seeing and congratulating him would be rude. So you give Mimi a curt nod, and the two of you exit the car.

The main street is still closed, and the majority of the people who had been watching the earlier race from the sidelines have moved off to the side where stylish cars are spaced out and parked for display. Although the concentration of people isn’t nearly as high as it was from earlier, a fair amount remains for the after-race festivities. You spot Loey’s orange Ferrari in between the bodies of moving people, and its owner is sitting on the hood, legs splayed outward as he takes photos with the flag girls.

There’s a blue Audi, white Jaguar, and yellow Mitsubishi…but no sign of Lux’s black Supra. You crane your neck in an attempt to look over the crowds of people but ultimately fails.

“Oh, I see Mark,” Mimi tells you with a tap on your shoulder. “He’s in the parking lot over there.”

You have no idea as to what Mimi is referring to, but you follow the girl through the crowd until you see the red-haired Mark herself. He’s standing off to the side, in an obscure area covered by the shadows of two trees, by his red Camaro and talking closely with a hooded figure who discretely hands him a wad of cash. The figure quickly walks away, and with a grin, Mark looks down at the roll of money before shoving it inside his jacket’s inner pocket.

“Mark?” Mimi calls out, causing the boy to nearly stumble over. “Are you gambling?”

“Mimi? Uh, uh, d-d-don’t tell Lux!” Mark whisper-yells in a hiss. He glances from Mimi to you and averts his gaze towards the ground. “Oh, hey, Ange.” He quickly looks back up at you. “You look r-really nice tonight.”

You ignore his flustered state and nudges your chin upward at him. “You gamble, Mark? On your own boss?”

“N-No one says that I can’t.” Mark shifts his weight from one foot to another. His embarrassment over admittedly having been caught gambling makes him seem more youthful than usual. Like a high school boy, he stands there in his red letterman jacket acting like he wasn’t just literally caught committing a crime. “What are you guys even doing here? Race is over. You can go look at the other cars and get a ride from some of the guys.”

“We’re for looking for Lux,” you say. “He won, right?”

“He always wins,” Mark replies. He narrows his eyes and looks at you with disbelief. “And why do you need to see him? You should go home since it’s already pretty late.”

“Mark, it’s not even 9 yet,” Mimi interjects and points to his jacket. “And you’re the one gambling here. Shouldn’t you go home too?” Mimi glances at you and then back at Mark. “Also, Ange said that she’s going to the afterparty with Lux.”

“Wait, really?” Mark’s jaw drops. “He always tells me that it’s not a good idea to go to those.”

You just hum. You have done it yet again. Although Baekhyun never explicitly told you of the actual details of an afterparty and how you can’t come, you still feel like you’re disobeying his orders by attempting to trespass into a part of his world where you shouldn’t be.

“So do you know where it is?” Mimi asks.

Marks arches his brows. “Yeah, why? Are you coming too?”

“Sure, why not?” Mimi shrugs and glances towards at you once more. “We can all just drive there in Mark’s car, right?”

“Uh, yeah.” You nod, now aware of what Mimi is trying to do. “Let’s all go in your car, Mark.”

“S-Someone will have to squeeze in the back, though. Uh…” Mark looks at his Camaro and its two doors. There are seats in the back, but in your experience of hanging out with him, those seats are usually a clutter of half-full water bottles and other things he doesn’t care for—like crumpled up speeding tickets.

“I’ll sit in the back,” you offer. “I don’t really mind.”

Before Mark can object, Mimi takes it as her chance. “Okay, then I’ll sit in the front,” she says. “Let’s go.”

When all of three of you are settled in Mark’s car, you tune yourself out of the conversation to gather yourself together. How you always end up in these sort of situations—where you do something that you’re not supposed to be doing—is always a question that goes unanswered to her. Regardless, you’re willing to dive in headfirst because you aren’t risking much anyways. So what that Baekhyun has warned Mark not to go to the so-called afterparty? It’s an afterparty; what’s the worst that can happen?

- - - - -

The afterparty takes places at club located on another rooftop in Daegu. It’s located in the “good” part of the city too since there are still active valet members working. In fact, the building also has a clearly visible security team that’s working at the lobby—and Mark has to tell them that you three are with Lux in addition to providing a password that he whispers into the ear of a guard. Then, upon taking the elevator to the last floor, you have to show the bouncer of the club that you’re of age and allowed to be there. For you, that’s the first time that you have had to show your ID to anyone since the employees at the corner stores never seem to care who’s buying from them.

Once the three of you walk inside, a lavish sight awaits you all. The inside of the club—aptly named Venom X—is lit up by neon purple light fixtures that make you feel like you have time traveled to the distant future. Floor to ceiling windows on the western side also give a spanning view of Daegu’s downtown as well as some of the taller high-rises in the area. You’re almost distracted completely by the view, but you quickly remember why you’re here.

“Do you know where he is?” you ask Mark who shakes his head no.

You have only ever experienced going to a club a few times in your life, but they’ve never been filled with only a certain type of people. Usually, foreigners and locals alike gather in them to unwind for the weekend, but tonight it’s much different. To you, it’s easy to tell that the majority of everyone present is somehow exclusively connected to the street racing scene. You overhear a few people talking about their new cars, discussing the techniques pulled by the drivers of tonight’s races, and some even namecheck Lux himself.

“I think I’ll just grab a drink and go,” Mimi yells over the music blasting through the speakers. “I’m not really dressed for this.”

“You should go with her,” you yell to Mark. “I’ll find Lux by myself.”

“You sure?” Mark purses his lips and looks at their surroundings. “The last time he found out that I went here, I’m pretty sure he almost fired me.”

“Well, he’s not going to fire me,” you assure him, “and I’ll find him, don’t worry.”

Mark is still hesitating, but Mimi pulls him by the elbow of his sleeve. “Come on, Mark,” she says. “We look super dumb just standing here.”

They make their way towards the bar, leaving you by yourself. At first, you’re unsure of how to begin your search for Baekhyun since the lights inside the club are dim, and you would rather not head into the dance floor, so you finally decide to do as Mark and Mimi did by getting a drink first to avoid looking awkward. You order the cheapest margarita and ignore the man offering to buy it for you before making a beeline for the seats closest to the glass windows.

You don’t trust your own drink even after watching the bartender make it, so you merely swirl it around the glass as you watch the crowd for any signs of Baekhyun. You think about going outside to the roof section too, but it’s much warmer inside.

The people present in the club tonight, as you observe, are as diverse of a group like that you saw in the most popular clubs in France. You hear other Asian languages in the mix—Japanese, Chinese, and Thai to name a few—as well as other languages that you can’t name. It seems as if Americans and Europeans are present too since you hear English above the mix of chatting and music.

“Mary!”

Your ears perk up when you hear the distinct sound of a woman’s voice calling for her friend. You trace the voice as it continues calling for her friend to a blonde-haired European woman standing at one corner of the club. Presumably, “Mary”—a dark-haired woman with black eyeshadow and black lipstick that’s noticeable even from a distant—approaches the blonde, and you’re about to divert your attention away from the pair of friends when you realize that Mary isn’t alone.

No fucking way, you think to yourself. That’s not...

But it is.

For some reason, Baekhyun is with Mary. You can tell that it’s him because of his hair and leather jacket, but he quickly turns his back towards her to greet Mary’s friend. He only needs to speak for a few seconds, and he has already said something that makes Mary and her friend laugh—which is more than enough for the night.

You don’t want to stick around and keep watching whatever flirting is going on, and you don’t want to get caught by him again, so you decide to head out onto the balcony section of the club. There, you peer over the glass railing and out onto the street and takes a sigh.

Out of all the people in the world, your feelings reside with the most insufferably reserved person. At least with Mark, you know what he’s thinking because he’s awful at concealing the moments when he’s nervous, but with Baekhyun, you just never know a thing. He never raises his voice to scream out of anger, never just tells you what he’s thinking, and never gives a hint as to how he feels about a certain thing. Come to think of it, you don’t actually know if he genuinely likes spending time with you. For all you know, he could have been faking.

Dejected, you pour your drink from the building. You aim for the trees below when you decide to release the glass as well.

“Was the drink that bad?”

You gasp when you hear a deep voice behind you. You quickly turn around and comes face-to-face with a white-haired man several centimeters taller than you. Immediately, you’re intimidated by his height despite his otherwise seemingly amicable face. His dimpled grin may be pleasant, and you’re sure that villains don’t go around wearing orange blazers before mugging a passerby, but he still stands to be a potential threat.

“I just didn’t feel like drinking it,” you murmur. You eye the open doorway leading back inside the club, but the man is standing directly in front of you. If you are to brush past him, he can easily place his hands on you…

“Why don’t I get you a new one then?” the man offers. “What’s your name, baby girl? They call me Loey around here.”

Loey.

No wonder he’s wearing an obnoxiously orange blazer. It matches his car.

“I’m A-Angel,” you say with a slight stutter. You recall how Baekhyun introduced you by that name to Chen, and though you don’t know the particular reason why, you’re smart enough to know not to give random strangers your real name—at least in this world of shadowy figures. “Um, and I’m fine,” you mumble, shifting awkwardly. “I’m not much of a drinker.”

“Are you a dancer then?” Loey asks, raising his brows. “Wanna go dancing with me, Angel?” Before you have a chance to refuse him, he seems to catch on that you’re not exactly comfortable. “Is this your first party or what?” he inquires. “Which team are you here with?”

“Which t-team?”

“Yeah,” Loey says, shrugging. “There was a Greek team racing tonight, and they brought some of their girls. You’re not with Sehun’s team, though, are you? No, I would have recognized you considering I know them all.” A smirk crawls its way up to Loey’s face. “And I know you’re not on my team, so which is it, Angel? You with one of the locals? The Seoulites?”

You, without thinking, sputters out the first thing that you can think of.

“I’m with Lux,” you say, and that instantaneously piques Loey’s interest.

“Lux, hm?” Loey hums. “How’d that quiet freak get a girl like you to join his squad?” Loey clicks his tongue with disdain and shakes his head. “Why don’t you come join me instead? Whatever Lux is paying you, I can get you more of—and then some.”

You have no idea what Loey means by that, and you have no intention of finding out. Fortunately, before Loey can say or do anything else, you spot a familiar figure just past his arm.

“Angel?”

Oh, thank god, you think to yourself.

Loey turns to the side, revealing the man of the hour. Baekhyun—or Lux, as you keep forgetting to call him by—is just as Mark predicted him to be: displeased at the sight of seeing you there. At first, he looks at you with disbelief, but that all quickly changes to annoyance.

“Is this your girl?” Loey asks as Lux walks forward to the two of you.

“Yeah, she’s with me,” Lux murmurs lowly, “and we were just about to leave.”

“Already? It’s not even midnight yet,” Loey teases. “You should stay a while and drink a little with me.” He raises his brows at you and smirks at Lux. “You’ve got your girl and I can go get mine.”

“Not interested,” Lux rebuffs him once again.

Before Loey has the chance to say another word, Lux is grabbing you by the arm and leading you out of the club.

- - - - -

“What the hell were you doing in there?” Baekhyun asks, his voice dripping with anger despite keeping it a relatively low volume. You’re afraid that he’ll crash his car since he’s driving it with a clenched jaw and white knuckles, but even his anger is something that comes off as controlled. “Do you know who you were just talking to?” Baekhyun demands. “Huh, Angel?”

“I don’t know! Some racer named Loey—”

“He isn’t just some racer,” Baekhyun interrupts. “He’s got a fucking target on my back, and now he knows that you’re with me.”

“Well, how was I supposed to know that when—”

“You weren’t even supposed to be there, goddammit,” Baekhyun growls through gritted teeth. Although he has never yelled at you, you have the unshakable feeling that tonight is the night where you finally cross the last line. In fact, he pulls over to the side of the road in a mess of squealing tires. “Why were you there?” Baekhyun demands. “I thought Mimi drove you to go see the race, and I told her to drive you home right after. So how’d you get there? Was it Mark?”

“I—”

“So it was Mark, wasn’t it?” Baekhyun lets out a huff to move a loose strand of hair out of his face. “That’s it. I’m going to fucking fire him.”

What?

“No, don’t!” you exclaim, now suddenly more worried over Mark than you are about yourself. “He didn’t do anything,” you insist despite it being the complete opposite of the truth. Mark drove you to the afterparty, so he was entirely complicit, and Baekhyun can’t know that. “Please, Baekhyun. It wasn’t him. I-I-I—”

“Angel, stop.” Baekhyun turns to you with such raw anger that you feel defeated in that you’re back at square one. This is exactly like when he caught you snooping around his house despite him having explicitly told you not to enter in the first place. “Do you have any idea what you’ve just done? You’ve given my enemies—fucking people who probably pray to their gods that I’d just turn up dead one day—an opening. I don’t deal with honorable people, okay? I deal with pieces of shit that aren’t below hurting people I know just to get to me.”

“Look, Baekhyun, I’m sorry! I didn’t know that—”

“Why are you always pulling shit like this? Fuck!” And it’s happening. Baekhyun is finally raising his voice at you. “First, you went into my house when I said you couldn’t. Then you followed me into a race. Now you’re following me into clubs and talking directly to people who want me gone. Why?” he exclaims. “Do you know how stupid that is?”

“Baekhyun, I—”

“You know some guys kidnapped Lucas two weeks ago?” Baekhyun’s question renders you speechless. Lucas is the tall boy with the big eyes—Yuqi’s boyfriend—and the one working at Lux’s garage. “Yeah,” Baekhyun goes on. “I busted my ass saving him, and now I’m paying for his therapy, but do you know why they kidnapped him in the first place?” You stare into Baekhyun’s eyes numbly. “Because of me,” Baekhyun answers for you. “It’s called blackmail, and now you’re a letter waiting to be shipped.”

You’re silent as the full weight of this reality sinks on top of you. You have no grounds to be angry when this is all your fault, but somehow, you feel like you’re the one that has been wronged too.

“Why don’t you tell me this sort of stuff?” you begin quietly. “Why are you always keeping me in the dark?”

“Why shouldn’t I?” Baekhyun retorts. “You really want me to tell you every bad thing that goes on around me and make you feel unsafe every time we see each other?” He shakes his head in disbelief. “Trust me when I say it’s better that you’re in the dark for a lot of these things.”

“So it’s better that I just go out and find out for myself?”

“No,” Baekhyun huffs. “It’s better if you just stay out of my way and out of trouble. God,” he exhales loudly. He turns off his car’s engine and slumps backwards into his seat. “I knew I should have said ‘no’ when Kyungsoo asked me to help his little sister out, but I’m fucking stupid and should have known better.”

“Why couldn’t you have just told me about those things?” you press on. “Why couldn’t you have—”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking…” You take a deep breath to control your own anger. “I’m talking about you and how you never want to tell me anything—even if it could protect me.”

“No, what the fuck are you talking about?” Baekhyun interjects. He stares at you in disbelief, like you’re the crazy one here—like you’re the one who going out on a limb by participating in illegal street races amongst other illegal activities. “I told you enough. I told you what I’ve seen when I took you out on the drive and got chased through the streets. You know exactly what you’re getting yourself into, and yet you wanna pull that ‘I didn’t know’ card?”

You pause because he’s…right. You hold your breath and looks down at her lap when you connect the stars of your own constellated mind. He’s right. He’s absolutely right. The stupid things that you’ve done aren’t because you want to know more about this dangerous world; you do all these things because of him—because of your crazy, farfetched crush on him, and you desire to just know him.

“I’ll just drive you home,” Baekhyun mutters when the silence grows too long for his liking.

“No,” you say, stopping him from turning his car back on. “You’re right. I knew what I was getting myself into, but I didn’t care because—never mind.” You shake your head and keeps your gaze low to avoid his. “Just drive,” you mutter.

There’s another eerie pause, but this time, Baekhyun is the one to break it.

“Ange.”

Why does he have to do that to you? Say your name like that?

“Just in case you didn’t know, I trust you,” Baekhyun says in a husky tone. “I think you’re a good person that just a tendency to get caught up in bad things. That’s why I’m angry—because I care about you too.”

“Do you really?”

“I’m about to drive you home, aren’t I?”

“Hm. Yeah, whatever,” you wave him off. Baekhyun sounds earnest and genuine enough, but you don’t think that he actually cares about you since he just loves to keep you away from the truth. “Drive me home,” you mutter, “and go back to flirting with those girls at the club.”

Baekhyun sighs so loudly that you feel his breath on your thigh. “Is that why you’re still mad even though you know that I’m right?”

“So you agree? You were flirting them?”

“I’m not doing this right now. I’m not gonna sit here while you jump around on conclusions.” Baekhyun shakes his head and fumbles with his keys to start his car. “You’re just mad that I’m right.”

“Well, you’re not right, though, so…”

“Oh, come onnnn.” Baekhyun scoffs and forces himself to laugh humorlessly. “I’m not stupid, Angel. I was right when I said that you know exactly what you’re doing when you follow me around.”

“You’re wrong about that.”

“And now you’re doing the same thing Mark used to do, and that was piss me off until I hired him.” Baekhyun drops his hand from his car’s ignition and looks over his shoulder to glare at you. “Why are you even concerned about who I talk to? I don’t mind when you go out with Mark.”

“Like you didn’t mind when you cancelled his plans?”

Baekhyun scoffs again. “What’s that supposed to mean? You think I was jealous?”

You scoff right back at him. “Look who’s jumping to conclusions now. I didn’t say that at all, but if the shoe fits, then I guess you have to wear it, right?”

“You really think that I’m jealous of some virgin who doesn’t even know how to properly ask a girl out on a date?” Baekhyun retorts. You frown at the suspiciously specific detail because you recall Mark struggling to ask you out—and you never told Baekhyun about it. So unless Mark told Baekhyun about his predicament, then Baekhyun shouldn’t know either—in theory. “I cancelled his plans because of other priorities—not because I was jealous.”

“You know what? I don’t care anymore,” you confess, exasperated at having to deal with how confusing Baekhyun is. “It doesn’t matter.”

“No, I think it does.”

“Baekhyun, just fucking drive. You’re pissing me off.”

“If I’m making you that upset, then why don’t you just call Mark and ask him to drive you home instead? I’m sure he’d love that. And if you don’t like that option, we’re not that far from your brother’s apartment either. You could walk home if you wanted, and I could follow you for protection.”

You cross your arms and turn your head away from Baekhyun to pout at the window. “I’m not doing that,” you huff in annoyance. “It’s too cold outside.”

“It’s too cold outside?”

“Yeah, I’m not going to walk home because it’s too cold outside. I don’t wanna be in here with you, but I’d rather be in here than freeze to death. Sue me.”

“God, you wanna kiss me so bad.”

You freeze, and it’s not just because Baekhyun turned off his car’s heater a while ago. You take a moment to pause, to sample the surrealistic taste of this new air. Baekhyun isn’t one to babble or run his mouth—much less say ballsy things like that. If anything, you’re speaking to his Lux persona, and Lux is always cool and confident. But what is he so confident about?

“What are you saying?” you snap as you turn to meet Baekhyun’s heavy gaze. “Are you crazy?”

“I’m a lot of things,” Baekhyun replies, draping his wrist over the steering wheel. The sleeve of his jacket falls slightly and reveals the silver face of a wristwatch. “Maybe crazy is one of them,” he continues, “but if there’s anything that I’m not, it’s stupid.” He scratches his forehead and turns to you with a sharp gaze that’s highlighted by the distant red of a stoplight. “Don’t you see what’s going on here, Angel?”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you lie. In truth, you know that he knows. He has to.

“I could have shut up and driven you home ten minutes ago, but now I don’t even know what were just arguing about. I’m just glad you’re here.” Baekhyun’s voice is made of satin now. “And I think you are too.”

Maybe Baekhyun isn’t the crazy one here, but his ability to read you so well is definitely crazy—crazy uncanny. As much as you want to dislike him for being secretive and so unreachable, you don’t; you still like him to the point that you really wouldn’t rather be anywhere else but here. In his freezing car. In its passenger seat. With your arms crossed, acting like you’re numb. In truth, you feel it. You feel everything. The shadows of the night have wrapped their arms around you, but feelings aren’t something to be so easily concealed.

“Do you…” your voice start to crack out of nervousness, and you cough before you embarrass yourself any further. “Do you, uh, um…” Of course, this happens to you. Of course, at the perfect moment to ask, you get too flustered and too shy to say what you have been thinking for what feels like ages. “Just drive,” you murmur to your lap. “Never mind. Just drive.”

“Tell me what you were going to say first.”

“I-I-I can’t.”

“You’ve trusted me with a lot of personal things, and you can’t tell me what you were going to say?”

“It’s not that simple, though.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“But no, it really isn’t, Baekhyun—”

“Just spit it out.”

“Oh my, god!” you exclaim out of frustration—at yourself and Baekhyun. “I wish I could just spit it out, but I can’t, okay? Because you don’t like me back, and you already know that I have the dumbest crush on you, so why do you need to hear it? To see me embarrass myself? No!”

Baekhyun grabs you by the shoulder, forcing you to look at him, and when you do, you see his brows creased inward to form a deep frown.

“Just in case you didn’t know,” Baekhyun whispers, “you’re so fucking wrong. I like you a lot.”

You feel like someone has yanked the ground away from under your feet, leaving you in free fall—which is exactly what this moment feels like. Falling. Like gravity. Like accelerating down from the heavens at nine point eight meters per second squared. From trespassing into Baekhyun’s house, to meeting him at his own street race, to having him catch you at an afterparty that you should have never attended—all of it has led to this unforeseen moment.

I like you a lot.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Baekhyun echoes. “That’s it?”

“W-Well, I-I-I don’t know! I—” you swallow. What does a person do when they reach uncharted territory? “I didn’t think that I’d actually—”

“Actually what? Get here?” Baekhyun whispers. “Me too.”

The silence that follows speaks for itself. Baekhyun leans forward slowly, gently, like honey—and you do the same, slowly, tentatively, like molasses, like clouds. The two of you don’t say anything for what feels like years, and you both stare at each other from mere centimeters away, both seemingly too afraid to go first. Baekhyun has an eyelash right next to the mole on his cheek, and time drags on around them. Brown eyes are so pretty because nothing says home like the earth, and so it goes for the eyes—especially when those eyes belong to someone like Baekhyun.

“You wanna kiss me so bad,” Baekhyun whispers one final time, and it brings you to smile because he was right the first time, and he’s right the second as well. “What are you waiting for?”

“For permission,” you murmur back. You lift your hand from your side and lets it hover above Baekhyun’s face—above where he bruised his cheeks a few weeks ago. “Can I…?”

“Go ahead.”

You place your hand on the side of his face and brushes away the eyelash on his cheek with your thumb. Unlike before, there’s no holding back. The entirety of your palm makes contact with his soft cheek, and he willingly allows it. Baekhyun lowers his gaze, and you follow his example and glance at his lips one final time before closing your eyes.

The two of you kiss for a while, and you can’t believe it the entire time it’s happening because you should have put more lip balm on, and Baekhyun pulls at his seatbelt twice before finally unbuckling it, and your back shivers because it’s too cold, and you’re actually doing it. You’re kissing Byun Baekhyun, Lux, street racing extraordinaire. His nose rubs against your cheek, his loose hair tickles your forehead, his hand touches the bare skin of your thigh, and it’s just perfect. He smells like the leather on his jacket and the strawberry fabric softener that he uses.

Only the soft sound of Baekhyun’s phone alarm causes the two of you to break away.

“Shit,” he murmurs as he disables the alarm. “It’s 10PM. I-I-I should get you home. I have to be somewhere in ten minutes.”

“Then drive me home,” you assure him. Despite wanting to return to the intimacy of your shared moment, you have to remain mindful of his obligations and priorities as Lux—no matter how disappointed you are that he has to go so soon. “You’ll call me tomorrow, right?”

“And the day after,” Baekhyun promises, already starting his car.

He speeds off, zigzagging through cars and in between lanes in attempt to get you home at record speed, and you try to remind yourself that you hate fast cars. Right?

Yeah, but I don’t hate fast cars when Baekhyun drives them.

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