between the lines | p.js

chapter eleven

practice makes perfect

Sunlight fell softly over the asphalt, reflecting off the polished hoods and rolling garages. Nari's body ached in all the familiar ways—her muscles burned from the day before, her hands still tingled from gripping the wheel through traffic—but she welcomed it. Pain was proof that she'd raced, that she'd pushed, that she belonged here.

Her team was already moving, tools clanging softly, engines ticking as they cooled down. Yujin was scribbling notes on her tablet, Minseo hovering near the tires checking wear patterns, and Sooyeon barked instructions over her headset. Nari exhaled, slipping into her racing suit with careful precision. Every button, every zipper, every strap felt like armor.

"Morning," Yujin greeted, glancing up. "Not sleeping in, huh?"

"I don't have the luxury," Nari said, strapping her gloves. "Tracks don't wait."

Yujin smirked. "Fair enough. You still moving like a machine after yesterday?"

"Trying to," Nari replied evenly, adjusting the padding in her seat.

Before she could stand, a familiar voice rang from the garage entrance.

"Well, well. Look who's still upright after all the drama yesterday."

Nari glanced up to see Jaemin leaning casually against the wall, unzipped suit half-off, hair messy from sleep but eyes sparkling with mischief.

"You never give up, do you?" Nari asked.

"I live for chaos," he said smoothly. "And you, apparently."

She raised a brow. "Apparently."

He grinned. "Come on. Don't be so cold. I brought coffee."

She blinked, surprised. "Coffee?"

Jaemin held out a travel mug like an offering. "Liquid energy for my favorite rookie."

Nari's lips twitched. "You're bold."

"I'm thorough," he replied, stepping closer. "Besides, I figure if you're going to be challenging Jisung, you'll need backup. Emotional support. Caffeine."

She allowed herself a small laugh, catching the warmth of the gesture. "Fine. But don't think this earns you a free pass later."

"Noted," he said, mock-saluting. "You drive hard. I like that. You don't flinch, you don't falter. You're... unpredictable. I respect that."

Nari cocked her head. "Respect from you doesn't come cheap."

"Exactly," he said, leaning closer just enough to tease, voice dropping. "So savor it while it lasts."

The tension in his tone was playful, but Nari caught the spark beneath it—the glint that made her chest feel lighter, faster. She shook her head, taking a careful sip of the coffee.

"Careful," she said lightly. "I might start thinking you're actually... genuine."

Jaemin raised his hands in mock surrender. "Dangerous thought. Let's not tempt fate."

For a while, they stood there, trading quips, their banter easy but layered. She found herself smiling more than she had in days, even as her mind replayed yesterday's laps, Jisung's car slipping through traffic like a shadow, his presence haunting every corner of her memory.

Practice sessions began in the late morning. Nari felt the difference immediately—her muscles less stiff now, her mind sharper, focused on every nuance Renjun had mentioned: anticipate, calculate, adapt. The goal wasn't to match Jisung's raw speed yet—it was to refine, to observe, to force mistakes through precision.