between the lines | p.js

chapter eight

lines in the sand

The harsh floodlights made everything gleam unnaturally bright, the hiss of pressurized air still echoing as the last few engineers packed away their tools. A hum of voices rolled across the space—reporters lingering in hopes of one more quote, rival teams exchanging clipped words, mechanics bickering over schedules.

Seo Nari kept her stride even as she walked the narrow path between garages, her jacket zipped to her chin. Sooyeon had warned her not to stick around too long after dark, but tonight she needed the noise. She needed to hear the paddock breathe, to memorize its rhythm.

Her team's garage was nearly shut down for the night, Yujin barking instructions at two junior mechanics as Minseo scrolled through a tablet, muttering about numbers. Normal, grounding things.

"Nari."

Sooyeon appeared from nowhere, headset crooked around her neck. She offered a practiced smile, the kind that had calmed dozens of reporters before. "There's a group near Jisung's garage. Media, mostly. Don't linger too close unless you want questions."

Nari inclined her head. "Noted."

But fate, as always, had other plans.

The moment she pivoted toward her garage, she saw him.

Park Jisung, in the center of the commotion, his fireproof undersuit rolled down to his waist, dark hair damp with sweat. He was flanked by Mark and Jaemin, both laughing at something a reporter had said. Cameras flashed, mics angled forward, and through it all, Jisung stood—relaxed, unbothered, magnetic.

He spotted her almost immediately.

The smile he'd been wearing slipped into something sharper, narrower. And before she could decide whether to keep walking, the crowd parted just enough for him to step forward.

The press caught on instantly. Cameras swiveled. Voices rose. Suddenly, there was no path left for her to avoid him.

"Nari," Jisung said, his voice smooth but carrying. "Late night?"

She met his gaze evenly, every instinct screaming not to falter under the weight of so many eyes. "Observation never ends," she replied. "Isn't that what you told me?"

A flicker in his eyes—amusement, maybe. Or challenge. "Observation, yes. But observation isn't racing."

The reporters buzzed, their pens scratching, lenses clicking. Nari could feel the heat of their attention pressing against her skin, but she didn't let it crack her surface.

"And yet," she said, her voice steady, "you seem very interested in what I'm doing."

A ripple of reaction from the crowd. Jaemin let out a low whistle behind Jisung, clearly entertained. Mark's eyes widened, but he stayed quiet.

Jisung tilted his head, studying her as though she were another corner on the track to be dissected. "I'm interested," he said slowly, "because you keep putting yourself where no rookie should be. In my mirrors. On my line. You don't drive like you're new here."

"Maybe because I'm not here to be new," Nari said.

The silence that followed was almost electric. Even the reporters held their breath.

Then, Haechan's voice rang out from somewhere behind the crowd. "Damn, she's colder than you, Jisung."

Laughter rippled through the bystanders, breaking the tension for just a heartbeat. Jisung didn't laugh. He kept his eyes on her, his expression unreadable but his stance radiating something that felt dangerously close to respect.

Nari's pulse hammered, but she forced her shoulders to stay loose, her breathing calm. She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of rattling her.

"Looks like you've got competition," Jaemin teased, nudging Jisung with his elbow. His grin was wolfish. "And not just on the track."

The flash of cameras grew brighter, feeding on the spectacle. Headlines were already being written in the minds of every reporter present. Rivalry. Sparks.

Jisung finally looked away, just long enough to acknowledge the hovering media with a faint smirk. Then he stepped closer—not enough to invade her space, but close enough that only she could hear his next words.

"Keep talking like that," he murmured, low and deliberate, "and they'll eat it up. Just be ready to back it up on the track."

Nari held his gaze, refusing to blink. "I don't say anything I can't prove."

For the briefest moment, the corner of his mouth twitched. Not quite a smile, but something dangerously near it. Then he stepped back, allowing the noise of the crowd to surge between them again.

The press descended instantly, shouting questions, thrusting recorders forward. Sooyeon appeared at Nari's side like a shield, her polite but firm tone cutting through the chaos: "That's all for tonight. No further comments."

Mark shot Nari a look as Jisung retreated, something caught between curiosity and caution. Jaemin, meanwhile, flashed her an exaggerated wink before following. Haechan's laugh echoed as he muttered something to Renjun, who'd been quietly observing the entire time from the shadows of the garage.

And then they were gone, swallowed back into their own world of cameras and crew.

Sooyeon tugged Nari gently toward her team's garage. "You handled that well," she said once they were clear of the worst of it. "Calm, composed. They'll spin it into rivalry headlines by morning, but that's not a bad thing."

Nari exhaled slowly. Her chest still thrummed with the exchange, every word of it replaying like a high-speed lap in her mind. Jisung hadn't humiliated her. He hadn't dismissed her. He'd challenged her—publicly, deliberately.

And she had met him head-on.

Yujin glanced up from her workbench as they entered. "He didn't scare you off, did he?"

"Not even close," Nari said.

The older woman smirked approvingly. "Good. Because from the sound of it, you've just become the paddock's favorite storyline. Rivalries make headlines. But rivalries also win respect."

Nari unzipped her jacket, setting it neatly on a chair. Her hands no longer shook. Instead, they burned with purpose.

Jisung had drawn a line tonight, in full view of the world. But she hadn't stepped back. She had stepped right up to it.

Tomorrow, she knew, the questions would come. Was she ready for him? Was she strong enough? Did she deserve to be here?

And she would answer them all. Not with words. With laps. With corners. With the steady, unshakable control that had brought her this far.

Because Seo Nari wasn't here to be a rookie. She was here to race.

And Park Jisung had just given her the perfect reason to win.