Out Lap

Chapter 3 – “Out Lap”

Escaping from the gala that felt like another universe, Nick finally made it back to his hotel room.

The door clicked shut behind him, leaving him to contend with the muffled sound of traffic and distant nightlife that seeped through the glass windows.

For a moment, he just stood there, resting his back against the door. Areum’s laughter continued to echo in his mind. The way her hand had rested on his. The way her eyes had softened while they spoke.

Exhaling, Nick scrubbed a hand over his face. “Get it together,” he muttered to himself.

Tossing his tie onto the nearest chair, he began to loosen the buttons of his shirt. This room was luxurious: crisp white sheets, warm amber lamps, and neatly arranged fruit plates on the table.

The city outside looked like a sea of neon, and yet, that same city only brought one thought to Nick.

Her.

He dropped onto the bed, not even bothering to lay on a pillow or get into the sheets. Fishing his phone from his pocket, the screen lit up Nick’s face in the dimness.

Subconsciously, Nick was disappointed there was no notification from her; not that this night would somehow have led to that outcome anyway.

Still, instinctively, Nick opened a music app on the home page. He scrolled for a bit, hesitated, then tapped on an album cover that looked all-too-perfectly recommended.

“Back to You – Lee Areum”

Without a thought of hesitation, his thumb tapped the icon. The opening notes of the comeback title filled the room—soft synths, delicate piano, a melody that wrapped gently around his thoughts and refused to let go. Nick continued to listen, drowning himself in the song.

He had heard the song in the airport, though he had not realized it at the time. But now, he was able to properly listen to the song in solitude.

Her voice poured out of his earbuds—richer and more controlled than he had heard in their youth. Yet, underneath the polish, under the years of training and fame, he could still make out the voice of the girl who sang because she loved it.

And it was the owner of that voice that, even years later, still resided in heart.

Nick closed his eyes.

He knew he shouldn’t do this, dwelling in on every second of the balcony conversation. He had a season to prepare for, one that had an immense impact on his future.

But as the chorus soared, something in his chest loosened, then tightened again.

When the song had ended and another one played, Nick reopened his eyes.

A notification had popped up on the screen, displaying the words “Melbourne. Season Opener.” The date was two weeks from today.

His thumb moved to the side of the phone to put it away—

When the screen lit up.

Nick nearly dropped his phone.

An unknown Korean number flashed at the top. Below it, a message in English.

-> Are you awake?

His heart stuttered, staring at the words, trying to process them. By the time he had read it again, a second message was already being typed.

He swallowed, his throat having become dry suddenly, and read the new message.

-> Are you awake?

-> I got your contact from someone at Orion. Sorry if that’s weird! :P

-> It’s Areum.

For a brief, fleeting moment, Nick questioned if this was some sort of dream or hallucination, perhaps brought on by the jet lag or fatigue of the gala.

Then, another message appeared.

-> Can we talk?

Nick sat up so fast, the bed recoiled. His fingers flew rapidly over the keyboard.

<- Yeah, I’m awake.

<- Are you okay?

The typing bubble appeared, vanishing, then reappearing.

-> I’m fine, I just can’t sleep.

The three dots pulsing on and off turned Nick’s heartbeat erratic.

-> I keep thinking about it earlier. The gala, the balcony. Seeing you again after all this time.

Nick’s chest tightened, as if his heart was ready to break out of his ribcage. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, phone in a death-grip.

<- Same

<- That’s why I can’t sleep either.

There was pause. Though brief in reality, to Nick it felt like the entire F1 season had passed.

Then:

-> Can you come out? Just for a little bit.

-> Somewhere without cameras. I promise I’ll be careful.

Nick glanced at the digital clock on the bedside table.

1:37 A.M.

He remembered that tomorrow was a rest day, that Marcus had told him to take tomorrow to rest from the hectic schedule the past couple days.

He also remembered what Reyes had told him, about keeping his head straight.

Then he remembered her standing on that balcony, dress glowing softly in the moonlight, looking into his eyes and softly admitting, “You deserve it.”

His answer couldn’t have been anything else.

<- Tell me where.

The Han River looked very different at night compared to the day.

During the day, it was filled with all sorts of people strolling along the path. Now, under the late hour and thin clouds, it was a ribbon of ink, the lights on either side staining the darkness every few meters.

The air was cold enough to sting a bit when he inhaled.

Nick pulled the drawstring of his hoodie tighter. Stepping out of the taxi and onto the path, he shoved his baseball cap over his hair and pulled up his black face mask. Face masks don’t stand out in Seoul, which offered him some anonymity for his late-night soiree.

His driver had given him a curious look when Nick had paid.

“Bit late for the river, isn’t it?” the man had joked.

“Jet lag,” Nick responded, which wasn’t exactly a lie.

The path was mostly empty at this hour, with the occasional vehicle passing by with blinking lights. A couple was sitting on a bench in the distance, but they were way too far, and too preoccupied, to even notice Nick.

His phone buzzed.

-> Where are you?

Nick looked up and around.

<- Just got here.

<- Near the second bridge. There’s a convenience store behind me and some benches by the water.

He hit send—and almost immediately, another message popped up.

-> Okay. I see you.

He turned.

For a second, there was no one around, just the dark haze.

Then, a hooded figure jogged out from the shadow of trees, sneakers making soft thuds on the pavement. The person slowed as they got closer, pulling down their mask.

The brim of her cap hid her eyes at first, but fortunately for her, Nick would recognize her anywhere. Even in an oversized gray hoodie and plain black leggings, even with her tucked into a messy low knot, she still looked overwhelmingly beautiful.

But right now, she didn’t look like an idol. She looked like someone sneaking out past curfew.

She pulled down her mask, her breaths accompanied by puffs of white in the cold air.

“You actually came,” she said as she caught her breath.

Nick let out a laugh.

“Well, an unknown number texts me in the middle of the night,” he replied. “If I followed my gut, and it really turned out to be you, I’m sure I’d regret it far into the future.”

Areum rolled her eyes, yet internally her heart had swooned a bit at that line.

“Weird logic,” she said. “But I’ll take it.”

For a moment, while standing in front of each other, the world around them froze. The river, the wind, even the lights, they all seemed to stop at that moment. It was as if they were in a movie that was paused.

Up close, with no lighting or makeup, she looked…softer. There were faint traces of makeup clinging to the edges of her eyes, as evidenced by bits of shimmer in the corners. Her lashes, naturally, were still long and beautiful, as if they had been drawn using a fine pen by the creator themselves. There was a tiny crease on her cheek, almost certainly the result of falling asleep on a pillow.

Nick had eventually realized he was staring and, in a vain effort not to make the situation awkward, forced his gaze away, choosing instead to admire the river.

“Is it really okay, you being out like this?” he asked. “I imagine that your job has every second of your day organized and scheduled. On top of that, idols are supposed to be almost magical right? What if you turn into a pumpkin after midnight?”

Areum let out a small, surprised laugh.

“Well as far as my staff is concerned, I am at the dorm. Sleeping. Hydrating. Face-masking. Doing all the things the internet thinks idols do when the sun goes down.”

“Huh…honestly from what I’ve seen in vlogs, that’s really what I assumed.” Nick gestured vaguely at the riverside. “But I guess the reality for Lee Areum is that she is currently…here…in the cold. With me.”

Areum’s smile began to transform, fading into a much shyer expression.

“Yeah,” she said quietly, “With you.”

Without verbally agreeing, the two began to walk down the walkway. Their footsteps fell into sync, creating an easy rhythm that was accompanied by the occasional hum of cars driving across the bridge overhead.

For a while, neither spoke.

Not that it was uncomfortable. In fact, there was an unspoken comfort between the two, something that not even years apart had managed to create an impossible divide.

After a short eternity, it was Areum who had decided to break the silence.

“You leave soon, right?” she asked, eyes looking into Nick’s. “For Australia.”

“Yep. We leave in two days.”

“I see…is it scary, then? Having your first race as a professional driver?”

Nick thought about it.

“Well short answer, yes,” he answered honestly. “But it’s the good kind of scary. Like being at the top of a roller coaster.”

“Well, I hope your seatbelt actually works,” Areum responded, a playful smile on her lips.

Nick laughed underneath his mask.

“Exactly.”

The two walked a bit more, before a chilly gust came off the river and crossed the pair’s path. Areum shivered, tugging her hoodie sleeves down over her fingers. Without thinking, he slowed a bit, instinctively moving just enough closer that their shoulders briefly brushed. The urge to reach out and tuck her into his side was strong, yet a feeling in his gut stopped him.

He kept his hands firmly in his pockets.

“You said you’re thinking about earlier,” Nick spoke instead. “The gala. The balcony.”

Areum gave a nod of agreement in response.

“Yeah.”

Glancing at her, the two made eye contact once more.

“Why?”

Areum exhaled, a white puff of breath curling in front of her.

“Because,” she said, soft and slow, “I haven’t felt that way in a long time.”

“Felt like what?”

Areum slightly frowned, shifting her gaze to the ground ahead.

“Like I was…me,” she admitted. “But the old me. Before I became an idol. Before the fame and the attention. In that moment, I was back to that young girl, practicing her singing at school, begging her best friend to watch.”

Nick swallowed.

“I’m guessing that was me?” he asked softly. “The best friend?”

Areum shot him a look in response, part amused, part annoyed.

“Don’t make it weird,” she said.

“Too late.”

Areum sighed, but her lips twitched.

“I saw you on that stage,” she continued. “In your suit, with the cameras going off as you gave your speech. For a second, it was like watching a stranger. The rookie driver and global phenomenon. So many things were attached to your name now, yet I thought the memory of me wasn’t of them.”

She stopped walking.

He did too.

Areum turned to fully face him, tucking a strand of hair behind one ear.

“But then,” she said, “you froze. When they said my name”

Nick winced immediately.

“Oh…was it…obvious? I hoped that you weren’t paying that close attention while you were singing.

“It was obvious,” she said. “It was if someone had pressed pause at that exact moment.”

Areum stepped a little closer, now searching in Nick’s eyes, trying to find something familiar.

“And then we met again. In the corridor. And on the balcony,” she went on. “Suddenly, it was no longer the Nick Young that had the fame and attention. It was just Nick. The boy who would watch me sing anytime I asked. The same boy who would lend me his racing jacket when I got cold. The boy who—”

Areum’s cut herself off, her words catching.

“We were kids with dreams, and we both went after them. And I could never say that was the wrong decision, and I know you could never either. But that’s not the part that got me.”

“Then, what is?” Nick asked, voice low.

“Honestly, it was a problem when I first started out as an idol. I thought I’d grown past it,” she admitted. “Past…wondering how you were, if you ever thought of me. Past feeling anything when your name popped up on a highlight reel or news article. I still don’t know a whole lot about racing, yet I did follow your races whenever I could find them online.”

Nick’s fingers had come out of his pockets and hung at his sides, fingers curled tightly.

“I thought you forgot about me,” Nick said.

“I just convinced myself that the person I was seeing climb their way to the top of the racing world was a different you,” she said. “Not the one I knew. Not the one who fell asleep on my shoulder because he stayed up late last night playing racing games.”

Those words brought back warm memories to Nick. The teacher scolding him, Areum laughing, and him dipping his head to avoid embarrassment.

“I also thought you forgot about me,” Nick repeated, very quietly. “You left and moved to Korea. You debuted and became a huge star. And of course, every day I prayed and hoped you would be successful. But deep down, I had eventually convinced myself that you were too far away…too far out of reach. I knew it couldn’t have happened, but I wished that I still could have been part of your life.”

Areum was silent; both were, the lack of sound being more deafening than any conversation.

Then, suddenly, the expression on Areum’s face softened, making Nick’s chest ache just a bit. She spoke up, firm, yet soft.

“Hey,” she said. “Look at me.”

Nick did so.

“Do I look like I forgot you?” she asked.

Nick shook his head instinctively.

“Good,” she continued. “I didn’t, and I could never.”

Those words once again caused a brief silence. The world around them continued: a siren across the river, a car passing on the bridge.

This time, it was Nick who spoke first.

“Well, is there anything more you wanted to talk about? You texted me out of nowhere so surely you wanted to talk about more.”

Areum hesitated, then took another step closer. She was close enough that Nick noticed tiny specks of glitter still clinging to her lashes.

“Well…I did want to talk lots more. I just didn’t want the balcony…well I didn’t want it to be it.”

“It?”

“The end of our story,” she answered. “Yeah, it is a fitting ending that both of us got to see each other be successful and happy. But I just wanted one night…where we could talk and be real people…without any worry about image or reputation.”

Areum laughed softly.

“Maybe it’s selfish,” she quipped. “It’s like…the feeling you get when you have something you really want to say to someone, but you never end up doing it. But…I missed you. Well and truly, I missed you all these years. And even though I got to see you, it makes me miss you more…much more than I should.”

“Well, how is that exactly selfish?”

“Because…” Areum hesitated, before adding, “I would think of you when writing songs, when answering interviews about my life. And…deep down, I wanted nothing more than for you to think of me.”

Nick held her gaze, seeing the river light reflecting in her eyes.

“I did too. I did keep up with you when you debuted. I listened to every song, watched every vlog, even looked for every possible angle of your concerts.”

Nick exhaled, the cold air trailing the inner feelings he had just confessed.

“I didn’t want to miss anything,” he admitted. “Even five second clips of you, or videos where the camera isn’t even on you but someone else…I’d watch it. I knew you were out of reach, but the stupid part of me tried to force the gap to close…in any small way I thought would work.”

Areum took the words slowly. The wind was brushing her hair again, though she couldn’t be bothered to fix it this time.

“Well, I am beyond glad to hear that,” she admitted. “I never wanted you to forge the girl who used to drag you into empty classrooms so she could practice high notes.”

Nick smiled faintly.

“Pretty sure most of the time, it was me going there without you asking anyway.”

Nick managed to allow a laugh to escape her, small and unguarded.

Their eyes met again.

The moment held.

Deepened.

“Do you know the worst part?” she asked, softly.

Nick shook his head.

“I wasn’t allowed to say your name anymore,” Areum whispered. “Even when interviewers asked me who my best friend was growing up, or if I had someone important to me, I had to pretend I didn’t have one. Or pretend it was someone else.”

Nick’s brows drew together.

“Why?”

“Because idols aren’t supposed to have people like that in their lives, past or present.” She sighed shakily. “There were times where I’d almost slip, then I’d have to force myself to forget it in the moment.”

And then Areum positioned closer.

Much closer.

So close he could see the tiny smudge of leftover eyeliner beneath her right eye.

So close the faint warmth of her breath brushed his jaw.

So close it was impossible for either of them to look away.

“When I saw you at the gala,” she said, “everything I buried… came back at once. Like it was waiting for this specific moment.”

Nick swallowed, pulse hammering at a pace he normally only hit at 200 mph.

“It was the same for me,” he said quietly. “I…I thought I’d outgrown this—”

He cut himself off quickly.

Areum tilted her head. “This?”

Nick looked away for a brief second, then back at her.

His voice lowered.

“The feeling I get when I’m around you,” he said. “The same one I used to have with you as kids.”

Areum’s breath stopped — subtly, but unmistakably.

A long silence stretched between them.

Then she whispered:

“Nick… did you ever wish things were different?”

“Everyday. More than you will ever know.”

Her breath stuttered again, the cold air warming between them.

“Good,” Areum whispered. “Because you still matter to me too. I don’t want the balcony to be the last moment between us. No matter what, please continue to talk with me. Share everything with me. I’ll follow your season, best I can. I know my upcoming tour will overlap a bit with your season, so please…don’t be a stranger again.”

“Ok. I promise.”

At that moment, a noise had rung out, interrupting the moment. Not loud but deafening at the same time.

Areum’s phone buzzed in her hoodie pocket, startling them both.

She winced and fished it out, screen lighting up the worried texts from her manager.

Manager:

-> Where are you??

->You weren’t in your room when I checked.

-> Call me as soon as you see this.

She bit her lip; the message having come at the worst possible moment.

“Damn, I need to go back soon,” she said reluctantly. “If they notice I’m really gone…”

“Yeah,” he said. “I get it…don’t want to get you in trouble.”

“You already have,” she said teasingly. “Just by existing.”

Nick made a face.

“Sorry for the inconvenience.”

She laughed, then sobered, eyes searching his face again as if trying to memorize it.

“Promise me something,” she asked.

He nodded.

“Yeah.”

She inhaled, then exhaled slowly.

“Then… come back,” she said. “Safe. No matter what happens on track this season. No matter how hard it gets. Just… come back safe.”

Surprising Nick, and even herself, her fingers reached forward and tightened around his.

“Promise?” she asked.

“Only if you promise too,” he replied.

“Promise what?”

“Not to pretend to forget me again.”

She smiled, small but sure.

“Then I promise,” she said.

He wanted to say more.

He wanted to step forward that last inch and tuck her against him, to close the distance that time had eroded.

Instead, he squeezed her hand once more, then slowly let go.

Her fingers slid from his, both mirroring each other’s reluctance.

“I should go,” she said again, more firmly this time.

“Yeah,” he agreed. “I’ll walk you to the street.”

They walked back along the path together, steps slow and synced. Near a convenience store, she pulled her mask back over her face and adjusted her cap carefully, tucking the loose strands of hair that the wind had disheveled.

At the edge of the road where a row of taxis had passed, she stopped and turned toward him one last time.

“Good night, Nick,” she said.

“Good night, Areum,” he replied.

She hesitated, then lifted a hand and lightly tapped his chest with two fingers.

“Go win,” she said softly. “Prove to everyone what I always knew that you’re the best.”

He smiled.

“I’ll try,” he said. “You do the same.”

A taxi slowed nearby, drawn by the sight of potential passengers. She stepped back, raised her hand, and the car pulled up to the curb.

She opened the door, then paused, looking back at him over her shoulder.

For a moment, the river glowed behind her, the city wrapped around them like a secret.

“We’ll talk again,” she said.

He nodded.

“Count on it.”

She slipped into the taxi. The door shut and the car merged back into the flow of traffic and disappeared up the road.

Nick stood there, hands in his pockets. He looked up at the sky, turned, and began walking back toward the hotel, the echo of her words following him with every step.

Two Days Later…

Nick sat in his chair, staring out the window of the jet as Seoul steadily disappeared beneath a white blanket of clouds. The city lights began to blur before vanishing, and somewhere under that blanket was that quiet stretch of river, where an unforgettable moment had occurred, something that had moved too fast—and too slow—at the same time.

Closing his eyes, Nick imagined Areum’s voice. Not the polished one from the gala hall, but the soft one that she used by the river. The real Areum, the one that hadn’t truly changed, no matter how long had passed.

As the seatbelt light chimed, Nick opened his eyes, moving his seat back.

Australia was waiting, and with it, the start of the life he had always dreamed of.