Overdrive |Minsung|

Chapter 1

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Minho clicked the pen with an anxious tap on his desk as he flipped through the case file presented in front of him. So fucking boring. He wanted a case that was interesting. Something with high stakes and suspense, was that so much to ask for?

He sighed and kicked his feet back as he ran his fingers through his hair. One glance at the clock sitting on his desk told him that another uneventful day had gone by. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, letting the pen fall from his grasp onto the closed folder.

"Yo, Minho!" Someone exclaimed from the doorway. He whipped his head to the left and eyed the man leaning on the frame.

"You ever heard of knocking?" He scoffed.

"Nope. When your name is Seo Changbin, there's no need for knocking." A lighthearted smile appeared on his face. Minho couldn't help but drop his aggressive facade and greet him with a hug.

"Anyway, I came here to tell you that I got a new case. It sounds right up your alley, so I want you to be my partner. What do you say?" Changbin lightly passed him the stack of files that included all of the case information, to which Minho gladly accepted.

"I'll read through it. I'm about to clean up and head home, so ask me tomorrow. I'll have your answer by noon."

Changbin nodded and released his grip on the doorknob.

"Minho," He started. "I think you'll really like this next one." Walking away with a grin and a swift pace, Minho stood back with a puzzled expression.

He thinks I'll really like this one? What, is it finally something worth my while?

Sitting back down in his chair, he pondered what the case could be on. The moment after he laid his hands on the paperwork, a yawn signified that it was time for him to start heading home.

I'll take a look at it tomorrow.

The shoelace on his Nike's had come undone, and once he had wrapped it through the loop he snatched his car keys from the edge of the desk. His office door clicking shut made him emit a sigh while his hand rested on the door knob.

He inhaled deeply before taking in his surroundings and glancing across the building.

He was the last person working today, assuming Changbin was second to last because he had only left a moment ago. Being the final coworker out meant that he had to lock up and make sure nobody could easily get in. So, that's exactly what he did

He shuffled around the room, testing the locks on the windows and doors that led to the exterior of the workplace.

After he was sure that every single one had been secured, he peeked at the clock.

That took me 15 minutes? I hate being the last out.

When he had finally locked the last door, he exited the station and twirled his keys around his index finger. The breeze of the late November air felt crisp on his skin, even through his uniform.

The parking lot was peaceful when it was completely deserted, leaving only his white Nissan 240sx. A click of the fob and a beep that echoed in the night air unlocked the car and he slipped into it.

His hands sat on the steering wheel as he hung his head in exhaustion.

I'm so damn tired.

He started the engine, turned the key in the ignition, and rolled down the windows.

Late night drives are Minho's favorite. He enjoyed the isolation, the peace of being away from the rest of humanity. Driving was a guilty pleasure of Minho's, and he tended to get carried away occasionally.

Even though he happened to be a police officer, the thrill of street racing had always been appealing to him. The adrenaline rush that flows through your veins, the chills you get down your spine, the exhilaration that fills your body with each passing moment. Street racing always has you on the edge of your seat, that's what Minho liked about it.

However, it is in fact illegal. Usually Minho will turn a blind eye, but he has certain cars that will catch his attention.

Black Dodge Challenger, orange Veilside Mazda RX-7, silver Honda s2000, and especially that red BMW F30.

That fucking BMW.

The only racer who hadn't lost a single race, and had also never been caught.

Minho's wrist turned as he spun the steering wheel in the direction of his home. His eyes stayed focused on the road, while his mind was somewhere else.

He had never seen the racer in the BMW, only their silhouette. It made him angry. The thought that he hadn't seen any of the drivers of those cars made him even more unnerved.

His fingers glided through the wind with his forearm rested on the edge of the window.

Sometimes I wonder if I chose the wrong job.

The busy highway seemed to go on and on with endless headlights illuminating the pathway. Horns honking here and there, but a mostly clear drive overall. It was late, and Minho was hungry.

The drive was calming and relaxing, but once he finally parked his coupe and unlocked his house, his stomach was grumbling so loud that he could hear it.

Minho groaned and rolled his eyes while reaching into the freezer and pulling out a microwavable dinner.

Not exactly ideal, but just enough to tide him over without having to put in very much effort.

The kitchen island was cold as he pressed his back against it, impatiently waiting. With his fingers gripping the countertop, he glimpsed at the timer every few seconds, tapping his foot waiting for it to stop.

After what had seemed like forever, he heard the beeping noise and eagerly pulled it out of the microwave.

The silverware drawer was ajar and he fished through the forks and spoons trying to grab one to eat with, once he had chosen one to his liking, he rushed over to the couch to eat his much anticipated meal.

The remote laid on the coffee table in front of him and he pressed the power button, turning on the first random show that appeared. Some generic comedy movie filled the atmosphere with dull jokes and shitty cinematography had appeared on the screen.

A couple of the jokes made him let out a small chuckle, but nothing notable.

Minho turned off the TV and tossed his plastic dish in the trashcan as he licked his fork clean. Not wanting to do dishes, he simply rinsed the fork and left it in the sink for the morning.

While sulkily walking to his room, he exhaled deeply right before collapsing on his bed and bundling up in the bed sheets and blankets, falling asleep not even 3 minutes later.