between the lines | p.js

chapter ten

the near collision

The paddock was thinning out by the time Nari made it back from the media gauntlet. Her throat was dry from answering the same questions in different words, her cheeks stiff from holding a professional smile. The champagne was already sprayed, the podium drivers already celebrated, but her debut still had the reporters swarming.

Sixth place wasn't a headline on its own. Sixth place on your first real race against Park Jisung was.

She finally managed to duck away into the quieter stretch behind her team's garage. The noise faded to a background buzz—metal clanking as mechanics packed up, low chatter, the occasional bark of a team radio. The night air was cooler here, carrying a faint tang of fuel and tire smoke.

Yujin gave her a water bottle as she passed, the corner of her mouth twitching upward. "Not bad, rookie."

Nari smirked. "Not bad, engineer."

That won her a small laugh before Yujin disappeared into the garage again.

Nari leaned against the side of a tool chest, rolling the cool bottle against her neck. Her muscles ached, her body still buzzing with leftover adrenaline. Sixth place wasn't victory, but it was proof. She belonged here.

"Not bad at all."

The voice came from her right—smooth, teasing. She turned to find Jaemin leaning lazily against the wall, his race suit unzipped halfway, hair still damp with sweat. His smile was the same one he'd given fans on the grid: the kind that could sell anything from a magazine cover to a lie.

"Congratulations," he drawled, folding his arms. "Sixth is respectable. Especially considering you were chasing him."

Nari raised a brow. "Respectable? I was aiming higher."

"Ambitious," Jaemin said, as though tasting the word. "I like that."

He tilted his head, studying her in the low light. "You didn't look nervous out there."

"I wasn't," Nari replied flatly.

"Mm." His grin widened. "So it's just your default setting to drive like you've got a personal vendetta against the track?"

She gave him a look, the kind she usually reserved for journalists fishing for drama. But Jaemin only laughed, leaning closer like he'd found her reaction entertaining.

"Relax. That's a compliment," he said. "You've got bite. Most rookies tiptoe their first season, afraid of looking reckless. You? You came in like you owned half the circuit already."

Nari straightened, meeting his gaze evenly. "If I wanted to be careful, I wouldn't be here."

For a beat, Jaemin looked at her more closely—less playful, more thoughtful. Then his trademark grin returned, easy and disarming.

"Dangerous words," he murmured. "I think I like you, Seo Nari."

She didn't flinch. "Flirting with competition isn't very strategic, you know."

He chuckled. "Who said it was strategy? Maybe I just appreciate good company."

"Or maybe," she countered, "you enjoy messing with people."

"Both can be true." He winked.

The banter had a rhythm now, quick and sparking, like a dance neither had rehearsed but somehow both knew the steps to. For the first time all day, Nari felt her guard loosen, just slightly.

It was easy to match Jaemin's energy—throwing a jab, catching one back, neither side taking it too seriously. He didn't underestimate her, but he didn't put her on a pedestal either. He treated her like an equal, and that—strangely—was refreshing.

"Careful," she said, lips quirking. "People might think you're actually serious."

He leaned in a fraction, close enough that his voice dropped just above a whisper. "And what if I was?"

Her breath caught—just for a second—but she didn't let it show. She held his gaze, steady. "Then I'd tell you to save it for someone else."

Jaemin's grin sharpened, but there was approval in it. "Noted."

Before she could decide if the tension between them was real or just part of his game, another presence shifted the air around them.

"Jaemin."

The voice was cool, clipped.

Nari glanced past Jaemin's shoulder to see Jisung standing there, helmet still in hand, hair damp against his forehead. His eyes flicked once to Jaemin, then landed on her, unreadable but heavy.

Jaemin didn't move right away. He simply tilted his head toward Jisung, his smile turning just a shade more mischievous.

"Speak of the devil," Jaemin murmured. "We were just talking about you."

"Were you." Jisung's tone wasn't a question.

Nari straightened, refusing to let his gaze pin her down. "Race analysis," she said evenly.

"Is that what they're calling it now?" His eyes lingered on her for a second longer before shifting back to Jaemin. "Don't you have debrief?"

Jaemin pushed off the wall, unhurried. "Relax, Sung. I was just welcoming the rookie properly." He turned back to Nari, eyes glinting. "See you around, Nari."

With that, he slipped away, his easy stride carrying him into the crowd.

The silence he left behind wasn't empty.

Nari met Jisung's eyes again, her pulse steady but her chest tight. He hadn't said anything sharp, hadn't raised his voice, but his presence was different from Jaemin's entirely. Where Jaemin played, Jisung pressed. His attention was weightier, sharper, as though every glance was a judgment.

"Sixth place," he said finally. His tone was neutral, but something in it made her bristle.

"Not bad," she replied, echoing Jaemin's earlier words with deliberate precision.

A corner of his mouth twitched—not quite a smile, not quite disdain. "Don't settle for not bad."

"I wasn't planning to."

Their eyes held for a moment longer, the air thick with everything unsaid. Then Jisung shifted his helmet under his arm and turned, walking away without another word.

Nari let out a slow breath only when he disappeared into the shadows of his team's garage.

Later, when the chaos finally ebbed and the garages emptied, Nari sat with her crew around a fold-out table. Yujin was still scrolling through data, Minseo scribbling notes, Haein nursing a coffee she definitely didn't need at this hour. Sooyeon was recounting her battles with reporters, gesturing dramatically enough to win a laugh from the others.

For the first time since she'd joined the circuit, Nari felt like part of something larger. Not just a rookie trying to prove herself, but a piece of a machine—a machine that could win, if they worked together.

Her body was exhausted, every muscle aching, but her mind was awake, replaying the race in fragments: the flash of Jeno's car in her mirrors, the reckless dive from Haechan, the way Jaemin's laugh echoed in her ears, the silver blur of Jisung pulling away through traffic.

Renjun's words from earlier returned to her: You'll need to outthink him.

She tapped her finger against the water bottle, eyes narrowing.

Sixth place was a start. But only a start.