Chapter Text
The night's race unfolded on a section of toll road that had been temporarily shuttered for repairs.
On this, and many other nights, the contest hinged on more than just the racers' individual prowess. It was a test of collaboration. Each competitor received real time instructions from a dedicated guide off the track, communicating through helmet-mounted radios. For Jaeyi, her critical guide was Kyung.
It was a spectacle of wealth and speed. Sleek racing bikes and sports cars lined the roadside where a cluster of rich teenagers had gathered. Jaeyi was a portrait of cool confidence, leaning against her blue Ducati with her arms crossed, while Ara perched casually on her own bike seat, facing her.
Kyung and Yeri hadn't arrived yet. Seulgi, though, had been expressly forbidden to come by Jaeyi.
Jaeyi, deeply protective of her girlfriend, knew Seulgi's status as a model student and scholarship recipient meant any association with this situation could ruin her reputation, threaten her scholarship, and jeopardize her entire future.
Defying Jaeyi's wishes, Seulgi came anyway. She made an impressive entrance, immediately capturing everyone's attention and charming the crowd.
"Hello, handsome." Miyeon approached Jaeyi. She wore a black halter-neck crop top with tiered ruffles at the front. The strap around her neck was very thin. Miyeon also wore super-short jeans which almost shows part of her round buttocks, and boots. Her hair was in two braids.
Without warning, she pressed herself against Jaeyi's front, wrapping her arms around Jaeyi's neck. She placed her legs between Jaeyi's. Her eyes searched Jaeyi's with a seductive gaze. Her face was very close to Jaeyi as she spoke.
"I heard you're going to race tonight to pay off a debt for some drugs you can't pay."
Jaeyi's expression was unreadable. She didn't move, her arms remained folded.
"Honey. Don't waste your energy riding your blue horse to pay Daeho. Ride me instead and your debts are paid off." Miyeon's voice was so mischievous, it sent shivers down Ara's spine, who was behind her.
"Come on. Show me your acceleration skills. With every thrust, with every surge." Miyeon spoke half-moan in Jaeyi's ear.
A look of withering scorn crossed Jaeyi's face, quickly followed by a mocking smirk.
Then a car pulled up with a deliberately loud roar, announcing its presence to all. Yeri emerged first, then a woman with long, flowing hair.
Seulgi.
She wore an all-black outfit that emphasized the texture and silhouette of her figure. Her outfit was dominated by an oversized top made of sheer mesh knit. This material is very thin, transparent, and has quite wide knit holes, creating a dramatic see-through effect.
The long sleeved top featured an off shoulder design, revealing a black bra or bralette with thin straps. The bottoms were black shorts.
Her long dark hair was worn straight, framing her face, which was adorned with minimal yet bold makeup, particularly on her lips. Her entire look exuded a contemporary and edgy style.
Her appearance took the breath away from the night. All conversation stopped, leaving mouths open, gaping. Whistles erupted, all eyes were on her.
Jaeyi's world narrowed to a single, frozen moment, her mouth hanging open in silent disbelief.
Miyeon instinctively let go, her focus now razor sharp on Seulgi. That unnerving perfection was a silent declaration of war, and Miyeon felt the immediate chill of being outmatched.
Seulgi approached Jaeyi, wearing a look Jaeyi had never seen.
The habitual softness—a warm, protective haven—was gone. In its place was a sharp, challenging edge, like a blade unsheathed.
It was a boundary drawn in silence. A new way of defending what she treasured.
With every fiber of her being, her eyes announced her absolute claim on Jaeyi.
This was Seulgi’s silent, firm demand for Miyeon to retreat, to take several large steps back from Jaeyi. Because, as far as Seulgi was concerned, Jaeyi belonged to her and only her.
Miyeon, however, had a relentless, annoying streak of stubbornness concerning Jaeyi. It didn't matter that Jaeyi was openly, blatantly pursuing Seulgi. It didn't matter that the entire school knew Jaeyi was obsessed with Seulgi. And it certainly didn’t matter that Jaeyi had rejected Miyeon repeatedly. Miyeon continued to pry, push, and insert herself into Jaeyi’s space.
She treated Jaeyi like a shared property. Miyeon still liked to lay a proprietary hand on Jaeyi’s arm without asking. She would lean in too close, casually sniffing Jaeyi’s neck, and throw out suggestive, flirtatious remarks—all while Seulgi was standing right there.
Before they were officially dating, Seulgi could usually manage her jealousy. It was easy because Jaeyi treated Miyeon's advances with blatant, cold dismissal.
But once Seulgi became Jaeyi's girlfriend, that low-level jealousy had sharpened into white hot anger.
Anger at Miyeon’s profound disrespect, and anger at the tiny, frustrating part of Jaeyi that sometimes, just sometimes, seemed to play along with Miyeon’s games.
And on that particular night, Seulgi was finished being subtle. She was going to make a definitive statement. It wasn't just for Miyeon. It was a boundary marker set down for Jaeyi, and for their entire social circle, to witness and respect.
“How’s my rider?” Seulgi hooked her arms around Jaeyi’s neck. Jaeyi responded instantly, her arms wrapping around Seulgi’s waist in a tight, familiar embrace.
Jaeyi was utterly stunned by the sight. Their faces were inches apart, and Jaeyi couldn't help but devour every detail of Seulgi's face. The makeup, courtesy of Yeri's magic hands, only served to highlight Seulgi's intense, natural beauty.
Jaeyi’s eyes sparkled, but her jaw hung slightly open.
“Not.. okay. You—” Jaeyi had to gasp for air. Seulgi’s sheer beauty seemed to have vacuumed all the oxygen from Jaeyi’s lungs.
“Oh my God. What are you?”
“Death?” Seulgi tilted her chin up, a playful glint in her eye. “The one who takes your breath away.”
“Oh. That explains the tightness,” Jaeyi managed, a shaky, half-laugh escaping her chest.
Seulgi smiled, biting her lower lip, savoring the powerful effect she had on her girlfriend.
Jaeyi’s searching eyes locked onto Seulgi’s before she finally closed the distance and leaned in for a kiss.
The people still watching erupted into cheers and whistles, mesmerized by the intense display before them.
The message was clear: The queen bee had found her master. And that ownership was absolute.
Furthermore, their fierce loyalty to Jaeyi was contagious, immediately extending to Seulgi simply because she was part of Jaeyi's world.
Seulgi never had to worry about the inevitable backlash. The judging stares or the negative whispers about a model student associating with the racing community.
Any potentially harmful gossip or negative information targeting Seulgi was automatically snuffed out before it could spread.
Out of profound respect for Jaeyi—and often out of quiet, knowing fear—no one would dare tarnish the reputation of Woo Seulgi. Her association with Jaeyi was an unspoken, absolute shield that guaranteed her immunity within the subculture.
Ara nudged Miyeon’s shoulder. Miyeon’s face was a study in scarlet. A tight mask of anger, jealousy, and the bitter taste of being utterly outmatched.
"Hey. Mind your own rider," Ara advised, gesturing with her chin across the street.
There stood Minju, leaning against her own bike, wearing a captivated smile.
She, too, was visibly mesmerized by Seulgi.
Minju was flanked by her crew. Byeongjin, who was grinning and murmuring, likely commenting on Seulgi's stunning appearance. Daeho, who was shamelessly licking his lips like a predator spotting prey, and the rest of Byeongjin’s men, who were openly cheering and whistling at the spectacle of Jaeyi and Seulgi.
Miyeon’s fury intensified. Her body rigid with rage, she stalked toward Minju with swift, tense strides.
“Not a very pleasant night for you, I guess,” Yeri quipped loudly just as Miyeon was about to pass her.
Miyeon’s only response was to forcefully ram her shoulder into Yeri’s as she walked by.
“Ouch!” Yeri grimaced, clutching the spot where she’d been hit. She watched Miyeon walk away and muttered a sharp curse under her breath.
They were kissing when Jaeyi’s gaze flickered up. Her protective instincts instantly flared. Everyone around them seemed to be openly staring at Seulgi’s nearly sheer outfit. Jaeyi pulled back abruptly. Without a word, she stripped off her own leather jacket and quickly wrapped it around Seulgi.
"This treasure belongs to me alone," Jaeyi murmured, zipping the jacket up to Seulgi's neck. "No one else is allowed to see it."
Seulgi laughed softly at Jaeyi’s sudden, dramatic possessiveness.
"Seriously, though," Jaeyi insisted, tilting Seulgi's chin up. "You can only dress like this when you're with me. Promise?"
Seulgi’s eyes softened, reflecting the depth of Jaeyi’s devotion. Truthfully, Seulgi hadn't been entirely comfortable in the outfit herself. Tonight was a rare exception, and she had no intention of repeating it. Not in public, anyway.
When she was alone with Jaeyi, she was more than willing to be nearly naked. She was willing to be completely bare.
Seulgi nodded, giving her word. "Okay. I promise."
Jaeyi cupped Seulgi’s cheeks in her hands, gently stroking the skin with her thumbs before pressing a series of soft, rapid kisses to her lips.
They shared a quiet chuckle, completely dissolving into the warm, encompassing feeling of the love that bound them together.
Meanwhile, across the street, Miyeon positioned herself squarely in front of Minju, acting as a human barrier to block Minju's line of sight to Seulgi.
Caught off guard, Minju jolted upright. Her face flushed with a mixture of surprise and guilt. She had been caught openly staring at another girl right in front of her own girlfriend.
"Seriously?" Miyeon demanded, crossing her arms tightly over her chest. Her expression was openly annoyed.
Minju opened her mouth, searching for a defense, but the blatant evidence of her actions made any excuse impossible.
"You dressed up for nothing," Byeongjin sneered from the side, raking his eyes disdainfully over Miyeon’s outfit from head to toe.
Minju instantly snapped a harsh glare at Byeongjin. She spoke a silent, furious warning with her eyes and facial muscles alone: Stop it.
Miyeon let out a sharp sigh of sheer disbelief, a sound that conveyed volumes of frustration. She spun on her heel and walked away.
"Seriously?" Minju muttered to Byeongjin.
He just shrugged. Minju annoyance was now redirected at him, before she quickly rushed off to catch up with Miyeon.
"Wear your helmet!" Byeongjin yelled and laughed, his voice carrying easily across the street as they left.
__________
At the starting line, Jaeyi and Daeho waited, each mounted on their powerful racing machines. Jaeyi’s loyalty remained with her blue Ducati, the faithful companion that had carried her to victory on countless tracks.
Jaeyi kept her hand steady on the throttle, pulling it back tightly, but her eyes were fixed on Seulgi. Seulgi stood beside the track, gathered at Jaeyi's team booth while Kyung was running. A nearby monitor would track both riders throughout the event.
Seulgi’s returned gaze was heavy with worry. But Jaeyi offered her reassurance through a steady stream of smiles. It was her silent language, a promise to her love that everything, despite the danger, would be fine.
Jaeyi unzipped her borrowed leather jacket—it was Ara’s, leaving Ara shivering in Yeri’s thin scarf—just enough to reveal the cross necklace Seulgi had worn. Jaeyi always kept it close, treating it like a protective amulet.
She lightly touched the cross pendant, still smiling, her eyes never leaving Seulgi’s.
Seulgi tried to match the smile, but the worry was a transparent film over her face.
“Jaeyi, you ready?” Kyung’s voice crackled through the radio headset connected to Jaeyi’s helmet.
“Never not ready,” Jaeyi replied, her confidence absolute.
With one final, genuine smile directed at Seulgi, Jaeyi put the necklace back under her jacket and lowered her visor, focused her gaze, and prepared to unleash the machine's power.
The air was heavy, smelling of burnt oil and humid asphalt. Jaeyi and Daeho waited at the makeshift starting line, a strip of yellow tape stretched across the highway entrance.
This was no pristine track. It was a closed off repair zone. A gauntlet of uneven surfaces, loose gravel, and sudden patches of slick, fresh tar.
"Listen, Jaeyi. Daeho's power is raw, but his bike is a brick. You're the knife. Stick to the racing line, conserve momentum through those rough corners, and don't let him get into your head.” Kyung said.
Three… two… one…
The starter's flag dropped. They launched.
The roar was instantaneous. Daeho’s bike exploded forward, its weight giving it overwhelming initial traction. Jaeyi surged, but she was instantly a bike length behind.
The crowd cheered, shouting support and the names of the racers.
Daeho held that distance. A constant, infuriating gap that Jaeyi couldn't shrink.
Jaeyi fought, leaning low over the tank. The wind noise was a constant scream, but Kyung’s voice kept breaking through.
“You’re trailing! Get ready for the first major curve—it’s full of loose debris on the inside! Take the wide line, Jaeyi! Wide line!”
Jaeyi followed the instruction, banking out to avoid the gravel.
Daeho, however, under the guidance of Juwan, seemed unfazed by the debris. He powered through the shorter, inside path, sacrificing a little stability for distance, and pulled another half-length ahead.
Yeri groaned at the monitor, her face buried in Ara’s shoulder.
“He’s ignoring the hazards!” Jaeyi yelled, frustration coiling in her gut.
Kyung’s breath hitched over the radio. “Okay, ignore the hazards. Next straight, there's a fresh patch of tar in the center lane. Use the new tar for traction. Go full throttle.”
Jaeyi whipped into the center lane, leaning on the smooth, black tar. For a moment, she felt the bike stabilize and surge, but Daeho simply shifted slightly, maintaining his speed on the worn pavement and blocking her advance.
They hit a series of expansion joints that rattled Jaeyi’s teeth. Daeho barely bobbed.
“I can’t catch him on the straights!” Jaeyi screamed.
“He’s too strong, and Juwan is guiding him perfectly.” Yeri commented.
From the opposing team, Juwan’s triumphant voice filtered through the noise, directed at Daeho.
“Hold that torque, Daeho! Don’t let the kid breathe!”
Kyung’s voice was fraying. “Jaeyi, the long sweeper is coming up! You have to take this lead! Over-lean the corner! Go deeper than you ever have!”
Jaeyi obeyed, pushing the Ducati until the tires were singing a high-pitched, desperate whine. She scraped her shoulder dangerously close to the ground, but Daeho matched her lean, his heavy bike somehow holding the perfect inside line. Jaeyi emerged from the corner, still staring at Daeho's rear wheel.
“Fuck! I’m out of ideas.” Kyung admitted, the panic sharp in her voice. "He's reading us perfectly! We're losing!"
On the sidelines, Seulgi stood rigid beside the monitor. She had watched every failed maneuver, every desperate instruction from Kyung. Her eyes weren't focused on the riders, but on the road conditions displayed on the track map. The little red indicators marking repair patches and loose debris.
“Kyung. Put me through to Jaeyi now. Stop the racing talk.” Seulgi’s voice was eerily calm.
Kyung, utterly defeated, handed the headset. “Jaeyi, you listen to your girlfriend. We are done trying to corner him.”
“Jaeyi, look at your speed compared to his input,” Seulgi’s voice commanded. “Daeho is riding heavy. He is depending on constant, high torque and downforce for stability over this broken road. But the surface is an enemy to him, not a track.”
“What does that mean?” Jaeyi asked, fighting to keep her concentration on the road.
“It means his friction is inconsistent. When Daeho hits a small patch of loose aggregate or that slick, new sealant—even if it’s only for a millisecond—his heavy tire has to fight harder to regain traction stability. He instinctively reduces his throttle by a fraction of a degree to avoid a slide. It’s an involuntary physical law.”
“The slip,” Jaeyi whispered, understanding dawning.
“Exactly. It's too small for the human eye, but it’s there. You need to tuck completely to eliminate drag and wait for that tiny, inevitable moment of failure. You must counter-accelerate when he is busy stabilizing. Exploit his moment of caution with your lightest bike.”
Jaeyi immediately dropped her chin to the tank, her body flat and tense, transforming herself into a low-drag torpedo. She let Daeho surge slightly ahead one last time, keeping her gaze locked not on his speed, but on the road immediately ahead of his rear tire.
They flew toward a major section where a seam of slick, black sealant crossed a rough, cracked patch. It was the pinnacle of instability.
Daeho hit the seam. For an imperceptible instant, his bike shuddered, the raw engine note dropping slightly as his brain forced a throttle correction.
Now.
Jaeyi slammed the throttle open. The lighter Ducati surged, riding over the instability like a feather on the wind. She exploded past Daeho, using the momentum he had just lost.
The pass was surgical, swift, and absolute.
Daeho tried to chase, realizing his mistake, but it was too late. Jaeyi had the lead, and the finish line was in sight.
The crowd erupted, especially Jaeyi's supporters. They screamed with joy.
Yeri let out a sudden, high-pitched shriek of pure joy. She immediately threw her arms around Ara, her small body bouncing with manic energy.
She didn't just hug Ara. She clung to her like a celebratory monkey, shaking Ara's frame back and forth violently as she screamed the victory over and over. Ara, initially startled, quickly caught the fever, laughing breathlessly as she was jolted around.
Jaeyi crossed the finish line first.
A profound, shuddering sigh escaped Seulgi’s lips. It was a sound of absolute release, finally expelling the heavy, cold dread she had been carrying for the entire race. All her terrifying worries about Jaeyi crashing, about the slick track, had vanished with the sight of the checkered flag.
The victory was a wild, undeniable surge of joy that hit her immediately. A brilliant smile broke across her face, followed instantly by a rush of emotion that stung her eyes, blurring the victorious crowd with proud, happy tears.
Kyung’s scream of triumph. “JAEYI! YOU DID IT! YOU BEAT HIM! YOU BEAT HIM WITH CALCULUS!”
The bike rolled to a gentle stop near the cheers of her team. The high tension adrenaline that had carried Jaeyi through the final stretch dissolved, replaced by a warm, flooding sense of relief.
Jaeyi pulled off her helmet.
"That," She running a hand through her sweat-soaked hair. "What happens when you have a genius for a girlfriend." She grinned broadly at her team.
She practically vaulted off the Ducati. Before her feet were firmly planted on the ground, Seulgi had closed the distance. Seulgi didn't just walk, she flew into the champion's arms. Her grip, tight around Jaeyi’s neck, was trembling, a desperate physical confirmation that Jaeyi was safe, warm, and real.
The hug was less about celebration and more about a deep, shared need for contact after the terror of the race.
Jaeyi laughed—a short, winded sound of pure adrenaline—and held her tight, feeling the familiar, grounding warmth of Seulgi's body against her racing armor.
The applause faded. All that mattered was the fierce, trembling relief in that hug.
Daeho arrived moments later. He slammed his bike to a stop and dismounted with savage speed.
Before Juwan could even offer a word of excuse, Daeho was on him. Daeho’s fist exploded against Juwan’s jaw, knocking the strategist clean out of his chair.
Juwan hit the ground with a sickening thud. Daeho stood over him, trembling, channeling all the burning frustration of his defeat into his trembling body.
Byeongjin watched the violent display with a cynical half smile. He offered no sympathy, only ice cold contempt.
“The great Daeho,” Byeongjin mocked, his voice laced with venom. “You just got outrun by a high school girl.”
“What a failure.”
__________
The journey home was quiet, save for the hum of engines and the crisp night air. Jaeyi rode her Ducati with Seulgi seated tight behind her, arms wrapped securely around Jaeyi’s waist. Ara followed on her own bike, her headlight piercing the darkness, and Kyung trailed them in a sedan, with Yeri monitoring the rearview mirror.
They were deep into a deserted stretch of road when their progress was violently halted. Ahead, several dark bikes were parked haphazardly across the asphalt, forming an unmistakable roadblock.
Jaeyi, Ara, and Kyung slowed to a stop.
Then, the trap sprung. Several more bikes peeled out from the shadows of the trees behind them, completing the blockade. They were boxed in.
“What. The. Hell,” Ara hissed, her voice tight with immediate alarm.
Seulgi’s arms, wrapped around Jaeyi’s stomach, instantly tightened into a desperate, anxious squeeze. Jaeyi reached back, placing her hand firmly over Seulgi’s arm at her waist.
“It’s okay. I’m here,” Jaeyi murmured, a promise and a shield, just as Daeho and his men stepped into the weak circle of the headlights.
Jaeyi gently guided Seulgi off the back of the still-warm Ducati, then dismounted herself. "I thought our business was over," Jaeyi stated, her voice losing its edge of triumph.
Ara cut her own engine, swinging a leg over her bike. The silence of the support area was suddenly unnerving.
The atmosphere shattered when a sharp rap sounded on Kyung and Yeri’s car window. A cluster of Daeho’s men had silently surrounded the vehicle, signaling aggressively for the two women to exit.
They were trapped. About nine men, heavy and hard-faced, had formed a tight, intimidating circle around the five of them.
Daeho approached Jaeyi, his expression dark with bitter satisfaction. "The race was just to pay off the pill debt, Jaeyi. Not the fight."