The Line

Suzuka Circuit, Lap 54—Final Lap.

Nick’s breath fogged the inside of his helmet for a split second before clearing again.

His neck burned. Not sharply — not yet at least— but with that deep, dull ache that warned him he was running out of stamina. Suzuka was a demanding track, high speed sweeping corners meant that most of the track is spent at full speed.

Nick flexed his fingers on the wheel.

“Copy.”

The Silver Arc car behind him tried an overtake coming off the main straight.

A late dive into Turn 1 — the Silver Arc decided to be bold.

Nick, however, saw it coming.

He performed his signature defense, braking a fraction of a second early, sacrificing entry speed, and shut the door to the inside. The Silver Arc backed out at the last moment, conceding the position to Nick.

“Nice defense,” came the radio. “Gap is 0.8.”

Nick exhaled slowly.

Only three corners left.

The Silver Arc tried again into 130R.

Two cars carrying that much speed into the corner was pure madness.

Yet, Nick didn’t flinch.

He stayed true, trusting the car, he refused to brake or slow into the corner. The Silver Arc lifted at the last possible moment, not willing to take the risk.

Nick sent a message with that move.

He wasn’t going to just concede.

The moment mirrored a similar situation that happened in Suzuka long ago, when a younger driver made his stand against an all-time great.

Everything hurt.

His neck.
His arms.
His hands.

But Nick remained steadfast in his concentration.

Through Casio one last time.

Perfect.
Controlled.
Clean.

Nick braked early — just enough — and rotated the car smoothly, feeding the throttle without drama.

The main straight opened up, and the checkered flag waved.

Nick crossed the line.

P5.

Nick exhaled hard, chest heaving.

“I’m done,” he said into the radio, voice raw. “I’m finally done.”

The engineer laughed. “P5. Strong defense. That was excellent driving, Nick.”

Nick slowed on the cooldown lap, hands finally relaxing on the wheel.

As the adrenaline drained away, the thoughts of the race were slowly replaced by something else — quiet, uninvited.

I hope she saw that.

He shook his as he guided the car back toward the pits.

Suzuka is over. But the pressure?

That was just getting started.

The Enstone car rolled to a stop beneath the parc fermé lights.

Nick shut the engine off and sat there, heart cooling down, hands still resting on the wheel. Sweat dripped from his hairline, tracing a slow path down his temple before disappearing beneath the balaclava.

Breathe.

The marshals signaled, and Nick loosened his harness. He climbed out, his legs protesting the instant his boots hit the tarmac.

The noise hit him all at once, again.

Applause. Shouts. Cameras snapping in rapid bursts.

He removed his helmet and barely had time to wipe his face before a microphone was already in his face.

“Nick Young! P5 at Suzuka — another strong result! How does it feel to follow up Australia with such a smooth, yet skillful drive here?”

Nick took the towel offered by a mechanic and wiped his face, clearing the sweat.

“It feels good,” he said evenly. “The focus today, of course, was staying clean, managing the tires, and bringing the car home.”

Another mic pushed in.

“You were under pressure in those final laps. Silver Arc was right on you — As a rookie, how did it feel getting chased down by some of the vets?

Nick nodded once, having already thought out his answer. “I grew up watching and admiring some of these drivers, so to be able to stand on my own against them, it’s both exciting and humbling. Of course, the support from the team this weekend was brilliant too, everyone helped keep the car in peak condition”

The reporter smiled — too pleasantly.

“There’s been a lot of attention on you this weekend, not just for your driving. How do you handle the growing spotlight?”

Nick thought about that question, something that he had been expecting to be asked but never prepared for.

He began flashing a grin before answering.

“I’m here to drive and deliver results,” he replied. “And I think I’ve done a good job at that so far.”

A third voice cut in, sharper.

“During media day, we saw you sharing the stage with a certain global superstar. Fans are already speculating — any comment on that?”

The mechanic beside him stiffened.

Nick didn’t.

He took a breath.

“I was surprised to see her as a guest,” he said calmly. “I’m a fan so I imagine that’s how most people would be if they met someone they are a fan of.”

The reporter pressed further with a question. “So there’s nothing more there?”

Nick met the camera lens directly.

“I think there is a whole lot of reaching there,” he said. “It was a media event, not a date.”

An awkward pause.

The reporter blinked, then smiled again — wider this time.

“Fair enough. Congratulations on another impressive result.”

Nick nodded once, already stepping back as Marcus appeared at his side, hand firm on his shoulder.

“That’s all we have time for,” Marcus said smoothly. “Thanks, everyone.”

As they walked away, Nick heard it.

Some had more questions.

Others were whispering their own interpretations.

Though, Nick decided not to mind any of it.

The garage had settled into ambient hums.

The rush had passed. The adrenaline had drained. Mechanics moved with tired efficiency, packing equipment, checking data, and speaking in low voices.

Nick sat on a folding chair near the back wall; Nick’s fireproof top loosely hung around his waist. His body was aching at this point, struggling to stay sitting up.

Marcus appeared a moment later, tablet tucked under his arm. His expression was a mix of relief from Nick’s result and concern for his current condition.

“You okay kid,” Marcus asked, “You got maybe ten minutes before the debrief.”

Nick nodded, acknowledging the update.

Marcus hesitated a bit, seeing Nick’s phone – still dark in his hand.

“You know, clips are already circulating,” Marcus continued. “Nothing crazy. Just a bunch of fans squealing over moments and screenshots. Speculation, mostly.”

Nick closed his eyes. “Well of course they are.”

“PR’s already on it,” Marcus replied. “Enstone’s got not problem drafting neutral statements incase anyone asks. Nothing that makes you seem like a bad person, just framing it as a professional interaction between two celebrities.”

“And her side?”

Marcus paused.

“That’s…different,” he admitted. “Her agency isn’t as big a fan of gray areas. You should know this too since you know about that kind of stuff. An actual relationship that wen’t public would cause so much turmoil on their end.”

Nick was silent at that.

Marcus softened his tone. “Look, personally I don’t care. Neither would Reyes or anyone on Enstone. It would be weird to us preventing a young man such as yourself from interacting and starting relationships. But just be smart. Being at the top means everyone below is watching you.”

Nick nodded slowly and got up. “Got it, thanks Marcus.”

“Good, now let’s go to the debrief. Couple of the teams have some complaints regarding some aggressive moves you had.”

“Well, that’s to be expected,” Nick answered, smirking. “We’re racing, and if I was expected to stay quietly in my place then why am I here?”

The pair chuckled as they headed out of the garage.

A few days later…

Incheon Airport was louder than Nick remembered. Bands of light and steel, the coastline curving into the dark water. As the wheels of the plane touched down, the cabin stirred with the usual noises of seatbelts, overhead bins and voices.

Nick stayed seated for the moment, his phone resting in his hand.

Unlocking his phone, he typed.

🡸 Landed.

The message sent with a soft woosh. He watched the screen.

A minute passed.

Two.

Then-

🡺 Good. Welcome to Korea. Although it hasn’t really been that long.

🡸 That is true.

🡸 Are you in Seoul already?

This time, the dots lingered a bit.

🡺 Yes.

🡺 But my schedule’s tight.

The last sentence was enough to put a frown on Nick’s face..

🡸 I figured.

Another pause.

Then—

🡺 Still…I can make some time to meet up with you after the race, if you’re still here.

Nick waited, processing those words.

🡺 I’m glad you’re here.

His grip on the phone tightened slightly.

🡸 That sounds great.

🡸 And I am glad to be here too…to see you.

“Alright,” Marcus said, interrupting Nick’s trance. “Let’s head .”

Nick nodded, eyes still on the screen.

Before the door to the terminal opened, one more message came through.

🡺 Be careful at the airport.

Nick huffed quietly.

🡸 A little late for that.

Nick typed once more.

🡸 I will.

Nick locked his phone as he got up, following Marcus and Reyes into the terminal.

The moment the sliding doors opened, sound rushed in.

Cameras. Shouts.

People lined either side of the terminal as far as the eye could see, layered with excitement. Security moved fast, forming a corridor as phones lifted from every direction. All eyes were on him, and though he waved, there’s no way he could cover everyone who was watching.

It was a warm welcome to Korea.

He smiled, waved, and signed what he could. Compared to his first time, the motions came automatically now—muscle memory learned fast over the past few weeks.

Still, something felt different this time. Now, he had shown the world a glimpse of his potential, and the fans knew that their faith and loyalty were in good hands.

A fan shouted his name from the barricade.

Another held up a sign in English and Korean.

Nick caught a glimpse of a massive digital screen beyond the terminal doors—one he had seen before.

He didn’t need to look closely.

He already knew.

Areum.

A hand appeared on Nick’s shoulder.

It was Reyes, wearing a silky black suit – fitted to perfection.

“Familiar sight huh?” he asked, grinning. “Looks like your fanbase has grown.”

Nick let out a quiet breath.

“Yeah,” he said. “Guess it has.”

Reyes chuckled lightly as they continued walking, hands clasped behind his back, posture relaxed. “That’s the thing about momentum,” he went on, voice casual. “Once people decide they believe in you, everything you do starts meaning more than it used to.”

Nick nodded, not quite understanding the depth of those words.

Marcus, walking a step ahead, didn’t turn around—but his shoulders stiffened slightly.

The group moved past another barricade of fans, flashes popping again. Nick waved to his fans, a smile of confidence and surprise on his face.

They passed through the final set of doors and into the secured arrivals area. The noise dulled behind them, replaced by the hum of polished floors and distant announcements. Security peeled away one by one.

Reyes slowed his pace just slightly, enough to fall in beside Nick again.

“Korea’s a special weekend,” he said, still conversational. “It’s been a while since F1 has been in Korea, yet the fanbase here has grown so much. We have a publicity event tomorrow, media day the day after and then the race weekend.”

Nick glanced at him. “We need more publicity?”

Reyes smiled, the corner of his mouth tilting upward. “This is only the beginning kid.”

Marcus stopped near the exit doors, phone already in hand as he checked messages. “Cars are ready,” he said, then looked at Nick. “Let’s keep moving.”

As they stepped outside, the evening air hit Nick’s face, warm and familiar. The vans idled nearby, engines low, tinted windows reflecting the terminal lights. Beyond them, the massive digital screen cycled again.

Areum’s image reappeared.

Just for a second longer than before, Nick looked.

The billboard didn’t feel nostalgic this time.

It felt… heavy.

The van door shut behind him with a solid thud, muting the noise instantly. Seoul began to move past the tinted windows in streaks of neon and glass.

The next day.

The city was wide awake when Nick arrived at the publicity event. Tall buildings rose on either side, the glass reflecting the afternoon light onto the streets below. The road itself had been freshly resurfaced—a dark smooth river flowing between the barriers. Temporary curbs outlined corners, looking unforgiving if one was careless.

Barricades had lined the streets hours before the event was scheduled to begin, black fencing stamped with sponsor logos running through downtown Seoul clearly denoting the racetrack. LED screens blinked awake one by one, cycling through graphics of racing silhouettes and city skylines. Crew members moved with tedious efficiency, laying cables, testing cameras, sweeping already-clean pavement.

This wasn’t the race weekend yet, though it sure looked like it.

Nick stood near the edge of the closed street circuit, hands resting loosely on his hips as he took it all in. He was in his racing suit, the gold accents on his black suit reflected the sunlight and seemed to glimmer.

Marcus stepped up beside him, holding a tablet.

“Alright,” he said, scrolling. “You and some of the other drivers are going to be taking some influencers and celebrities in some roadsters down the track. Now, don’t drive insane. You just have to do one lap, doesn’t matter how long it takes.”

Nick nodded. “Got it.”

“No drifting. No flying through corners. This is not a highlight reel for the fans on social media—this is a highlight reel for sponsors.” Marcus looked up. “Smile. Wave. Look approachable. You’re here to represent the sport.”

Nick smirked. “You make it sound like I’ll kill someone.”

Reyes appeared a moment later, jacket off, sleeves rolled. He surveyed the area, giving an approving nod.

“Good turnout,” he said. “City did a nice job with this.”

Marcus stopped scrolling.

“As for your passenger,” Reyes continued smoothly, “you’ll be paired with a local celebrity.”

Nick felt his stomach tightened and couldn’t dodge the feeling that something unbelievable was about to happen.

“What kind of celebrity?” he asked.

Reyes’s eyes flicked toward the staging area.

“You’ll see.”

The car for today’s exhibition sat beneath a white canopy at the starting grid.

Low. Aggressive.

It wasn’t a single-seater. It was a two-seater track car, designed for circuits rather than regular driving.

The bodywork was compact and aerodynamic. An exposed front splitter skimmed just inches above the asphalt, while the wide fenders wrapped tightly around slick-looking tires that barely fit beneath them.

There was no roof—just a single roll hoop rising behind the seats and sloping to flank each side of the cockpit. The interior was stripped down to the essentials: two snug bucket seats mounted side-by-side, six-point harnesses, a compact steering wheel, and a minimalist digital display mounted directly in front of the driver. No infotainment. No luxury. Everything about it existed for balance, grip, and speed. “Nice choice,” he muttered.

Reyes gestured Nick to approach the car. Nick immediately began inspecting the vehicle."

“This is what you and the other drivers will be driving the guests in,” Reyes described. “2.0 turbo four-cylinder making 200 horsepower. While far from the power you’re used to, it only weighs 620 kilograms, meaning it still isn’t something an amateur can drive.”

“Impressive. The event coordinators did a good job picking out the cars.” With perfect timing, cameramen and event reporters approached Nick as he said that.

A coordinator handed him a helmet—not his racing helmet, but a sleek promotional one, black with gold striping.

“Just a heads up,” she said. “Your passenger will be arriving shortly. Cameras will start rolling as soon as she steps into frame.”

Nick nodded, slipping the helmet under his arm.

The crowd noise shifted.

The audible ripple ran through the barricades, voices lifting in pitch, phones rising higher. Nick looked up, trying to find the source of the commotion.

A black SUV had pulled up near the edge of the circuit.

The rear door opened.

For a second, all Nick saw was movement—dark fabric, a flash of pale skin, the shimmer of sunlight catching hair.

Then she stepped out.

Areum.

A racing jacket hung solidly on her shoulders, black leather catching the light with a muted sheen. white lettering stretched across her chest, the name of a brand stitched there, flanked by sharp red and yellow stripes that cut across the jacket. The seams were thick, deliberate, tracing the shape of her arms and frame.

Beneath it, she wore simple blue jeans, the contrast making the whole look feel effortless, as if she hadn’t tried at all.

The reaction was immediate.

Screams.
Cheers.
Phones shaking in hands.

Nick froze, something inside him stalled—like he’d hit the clutch at speed.

Reyes leaned in, voice low and amused. “Surprise.”

Marcus swore under his breath.

Areum removed her sunglasses as she walked toward the car, composed, professional. She greeted staff with polite bows and posed for cameras already snapping.

Then her eyes lifted and met his.

Just for a second, her composure cracked—her lips formed into a small curve.

Nick recovered, straightening his expression as she approached.

“Mr. Young,” a host announced loudly, microphone in hand, “thank you for joining us today. And joining him, one of Korea’s most beloved artists, and someone you are quite familiar with already, Lee Areum!”

The crowd erupted; Nick wasn’t sure if the cheers were more for Areum or him.

Areum stopped beside Nick, close enough that he could smell her perfume—faint, yet fragrant.

She inclined her head politely. “Nice to see you again, Mr. Race Car Driver”

Nick cleared his throat. “Likewise.”

The host beamed. “Today, these two will be taking a special drive through a portion of the Seoul Street Circuit, showcasing speed, precision—and trust.”

Nick laughed at that.

A staff member handed Areum a helmet.

She hesitated, glancing at Nick. “I will be in your care then”

“Go ahead,” he said. “It’s safer than you driving.”

Her eyebrow twitched, visible to only Nick.

Nick winked in response, intending on taking advantage in this situation. He gestured toward the car.

As the two stood beside the car, Areum hesitated. The car was lower than it looked, the harness straps resting loose. She glanced down at the helmet, then up at Nick, uncertainty flickering across her face.

“I’ve never worn one of these before,” she admitted quietly.

Nick stepped closer without thinking, the noise of the crowd fading in that moment. “It’s okay,” he said, voice instinctively gentler than it had been all day. “I’ve got you.”

He reached in carefully, making sure to not cause her discomfort. Gently, almost reverently, he guided it down over her head, thumbs brushing her temples as he adjusted the fit. For a second, his hands lingered, as if he were afraid of breaking the moment. His knuckles brushed her jacket once, just barely, and she inhaled softly—steadying herself, or maybe something else.

“Too tight?” he asked.

Areum shook her head to answer.

As she climbed into the passenger seat, cameras leaned in, flashes bursting. Nick drew the harness straps over her shoulders, making sure they laid flat and untwisted. Lowering himself slightly so he was level with her, he fastened the central buckle with ease. When he tugged the straps to secure them, his face was close enough that she could see the faint concentration in his eyes.

“Tell me if it’s uncomfortable,” he said, quieter now.

“It’s perfect,” she replied, the words leaving her before she had time to reconsider.

“All set,” he said.

She smiled at him from inside the helmet, eyes warm. “You’re very calm about this.”

Nick’s lips curved. “Only because I’m pretending.”

Nick mirrored the steps he just did for Areum, but for himself. Sitting down in the driver’s seat, Nick looked around, not used to having a passenger.

For a heartbeat, neither of them moved. The crowd roared somewhere beyond the barriers, cameras flashing—but in that instant, nothing else existed except the two of them in the cockpit.

Then, gently, he tapped the side of her helmet. “Ready?”

Areum nodded.

He started the engine.

The sound rolled through the street—raw, deep, and resonating.

The crowd screamed once again.

Nick glanced sideways.

Areum was already strapped in, helmet on, visor up. She looked at him, eyes a mix of warmth and slight fear.

“So,” she said lightly, “my first car ride with you.”

“It’s my first ride with a girl too,” he replied.

“I hope that’s not a lie.”

“No promises.”

Her laugh was quiet, lost beneath the noise.

A marshal waved them forward and Nick let off the clutch, letting the car roll forward.

Nick eased the car onto the circuit.

The city closed in around them.

The first corner came up fast.

Nick took it cleanly, smooth steering input, no drama. The car responded beautifully, hugging the road with no signs of slipping.

Cheers echoed through the stands.

“Wow,” Areum said, her hands firmly gripping onto the harness. “This feels different from watching on a screen.”

Nick smiled. “Watch this.”

Nick tapped the throttle through the next section—a short straight followed by a gentle kink—allowing the rear to drift just a hair. Nick kept it controlled, but confident.

“You do this like it’s nothing,” she said.

“I guess,” he replied. “You just get used to it.”

She glanced at him. “That sounds familiar.”

As they passed a grandstand, Nick lifted a hand briefly from the wheel, waving. The crowd cheered in response.

Areum shook her head in disbelief. “They really love you.”

He exhaled. “They’re loud.”

“That’s love,” she said.

“Love huh?” Nick replied, eyes still on the road.

They approached the final stretch of the loop, sunlight flashing across the windshield.

“Nick?” she said suddenly, quieter now.

“Yeah?”

“You knew, didn’t you?”

“…No,” he said honestly. “Did you?”

She smiled behind the visor. “I was told ten minutes before.”

“Figures.”

They shared a look—short, yet loaded.

The pair came out of the final corner

“Get ready,” Nick warned, flooring the gas out of the corner.

The car screamed with incredible acceleration. For Nick, who was used to driving open-wheel race cars, it was on the slower side.

But for Areum, it immediately took her by surprise. Her head and neck were pushed back into the seat as the wind rushed around them.

Within a matter of seconds, the pair were across the finish line and Nick slowed back down to a slower pace.

“THAT WAS SCARY,” Areum exclaimed, still shaking. “THAT WAS NOT ENOUGH WARNING!”

“Well, I got to see you perform, so here was my chance to show you what I do for a living,” Nick replied, though noticing something significant. “Uh…we’re done with the lap”

“Oh…right.”

Perhaps accidentally, or maybe instinctively, Areum had grabbed onto Nick’s arm during the acceleration. In fact, she was still holding on to it, her head leaning on Nick’s shoulder for support.

As Nick continued on a cooldown lap, neither of them spoke for a moment. Nick was acutely aware of her grip and didn’t pull away.

“Oh—” she said softly, lifting her head but not letting go. Her hand hesitated before finally slipping back to her lap. “Sorry. I just—”

“it’s okay,” Nick said quickly…too quickly.

He glanced at her, and she was already looking at him, having lifted her visor which revealed an expression of embarrassment mixed with adrenaline. Her cheeks were red—not from makeup, but from the rush, and butterflies.

“That was… a lot,” she admitted.

He smiled, smaller this time. “You did great.”

She laughed quietly. “All I did was sit there.”

“That’s harder than it looks,” he said. “You trusted me.”

The words settled between them.

A marshal waved them forward, signaling them to return to the staging area. Nick eased the car back into motion, slower now, smoother, the city stretching open ahead of them.

The noise faded again. The car rolled back toward the starting grid, applause swelling as they slowed to a stop. Nick shut off the engine.

For a moment, they sat there, insulated from the noise.

Then the doors opened and the world rushed back in.

Staff moved in quickly. Cameras hovered just beyond the edge of the cockpit, flashes popping as Nick killed the engine.

Nick unbuckled first and turned toward her without thinking. He reached in to loosen the harness, fingers careful to avoid another awkward moment. As the straps fell away, their hands brushed, and electricity sparked.

“Thanks,” she murmured.

“For the ride?” he asked.

“For… not scaring me too badly,” she said, smiling.

He laughed under his breath. “I’ll take that as a win.”

She climbed out of the car, and Nick helped unfasten the strap of her helmet.

As Nick got the helmet off, a reporter shouted, “Nick! How was it driving with Areum?”

He glanced down at her.

“Smooth,” he said. “She handled it well.”

Areum laughed. “I trusted him.”

The crowd loved that.

“Yeah, it was fun getting to see something I had only ever experienced behind a screen.”

“Well, glad the two of you had fun,” the reporter replied. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ll be going on to our other guests.”

Areum bowed to the reporter and camera man as they walked away. Spotting her staff, Areum waved at them and began approaching, but not before turning and sharing a final conversation.

“Hey,” she said, soft and personal, “If you ever want to try something less… fast—”

Nick raised an eyebrow.

“—something quieter,” she finished, “I know a place. Tonight, you know where to meet, the same spot as before”

He didn’t hesitate. “I’d like that.”

Her smile widened, just a little.

“Good,” she said, stepping away, “Don’t be late.”

She slipped away and was immediately surrounded by her staff. Within seconds, Areum was back to the perfect and untouchable idol.

Nick stood there for a moment longer than he intended, his helmet still in his hands.

“Nick,” Marcus said, interrupting Nick’s trance. “Good job, clean driving.”

“Yeah,” Nick responded, still glancing in Areum’s direction.

Marcus followed his gaze, then looked back at him, expression understanding the situation to an extent. “We’ll talk later.”

The rest of the event passed in a blur.

More photos and smiles.
A few rehearsed answers to questions that Marcus had pre-written for him.

By the time the event closed, and the crowd began to thin, the sun was already dipping low, the city washed in gold and shadow. Nick finally retreated into the team van, exhaustion settling in, accompanied by anticipation.

Night settled over Seoul.

Nick slipped into the side street. The time was just after 10 PM, the city was quieter—narrower roads, fewer lights, the hum of traffic in the distance. The restaurant was exactly as she’d described it in the texts: unmarked, unassuming, a true “hole in the wall” gem.

Stepping inside felt like stepping out of time.

The air was warm, carrying the faint scent of tea and something sweet. Conversations were low, private. The aesthetic of the place seemed to be seclusion, despite the small interior size.

Areum was already there.

She sat in a corner booth, right against two walls. Her coat was folded neatly beside her, hair loose around her shoulders. No stage lights, no makeup. Areum’s fingers curled around a ceramic cup, gaze lifting the moment she saw him.

Nick approached the booth and sat down

“You came,” she said finally.

He nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

Nick sat across from her, the table small enough to feel intimate. Up close, she looked much more…real.

They ordered without really looking at the menu. A conversation began with the server, who likely had not recognized either. The older woman treated them with warmth, raising the mood of the booth immensely.

For a second, neither of them said anything. Then, Areum laughed quietly, shaking her head.

“Well,” she said, lifting her cup again, “that went better than expected.”

Nick smiled. “I don’t think she recognized either of us.”

“Bless her,” Areum replied sincerely. “If she had, this would’ve been a very different night.”

They both laughed at that, the tension easing just a little. The food arrived soon after, steam rising between them, and the two began eating. Despite their hunger, the two quickly began to fall into conversation, discussing various small and inconsequential topics for a bit.

They ate slowly, trading small stories between bites—Nick talking about the absurdity of driver briefings, Areum about rehearsals that ran far too long and stylists who worried about things no normal person ever noticed.

“At least when you mess up,” Nick said, “it’s usually just a wall.”

She stared at him. “That is not comforting. If I miss a note, people say I’m having an off day. If you miss a braking point—”

“Well,” he finished.

“Exactly.”

She smiled as she drank her tea.

About a minute of silence passed, before someone spoke.

“You’re staring again,” Areum said teasingly.

“Sorry,” Nick said, breaking the stare by taking a sip of his drink. “Old habit.”

“From when?”

He shrugged. “From when you used to pretend to listen in class and I’d try to guess what you were actually thinking about.”

Her eyes lit up. “You remember that?”

“You always tapped your pen when you were bored.”

She laughed. “I still do that.”

“I know,” he said, without thinking. “I’ve seen the videos.”

They both paused., not awkwardly—more like they’d both just realized something at the same time.

“It’s weird,” Areum said slowly, setting her cup down. “I thought seeing you again would feel… nostalgic.”

“Is it not?” Nick asked.

“That’s not the word I would use,” she said. “What would you call it, since it’s almost like we never really stopped knowing each other.”

Nick nodded. “I was thinking the same thing.”

She studied him for a moment, expression thoughtful but warm. “Do you ever think about how strange the timing is?”

“Oh, believe me I have,” he admitted. “Had this come at an earlier time in my career, things might have become a mess

She smiled. “It still might be.”

“Probably,” he agreed. “But it’s a better mess now.”

That made her laugh again, softer this time.

They lingered after finishing their food, neither reaching for the check right away.

Outside, the street had grown quieter, the glow from the restaurant casting soft light on an adjacent wall.

“Well, wanna go for a walk after we pay? This part of town is nice to walk around, and it is secluded.”

“Sure, that sounds fun”, Nick replied, without hesitation.

When they finally stepped out, the cool night air wrapped around them. They walked slowly, unhurried, side by side.

“You know,” Areum said, breaking the silence, “I almost didn’t text you tonight.”

Nick glanced over. “Why?”

“Because I was afraid we’d realize something inconvenient.”

“And did we?”

She considered it. “Maybe.”

He smiled. “Same.”

They stopped at the corner where the street widened, city lights stretching out in front of them. For a moment, they just stood there, close enough that their arms brushed.

“I think,” Areum said carefully, grabbing onto Nick’s arm “that coming back into each other’s lives right now… it feels like an opportunity.”

Nick brushed his hand against hers. “One we’d regret passing up.”

She looked up at him, bright eyes, amused, sincere. “Well how did you feel when I moved away?”

Nick didn’t answer right away.

He looked ahead at the street. The traffic lights in the distance changed from red to green, the light stretching to reach them through the night fog.

“Honestly?” he said at last.

“Honestly?” Areum echoed.

He huffed a quiet laugh. “It was rough. I pretended I was okay and told everyone I was fine. I knew of course it was your dream, and seeing you know only validates that decision to not say anything to stop you. But, a selfish part of me wanted to scream and make you stay.”

Areum’s eyes widened, and she smiled, squeezing his arm tighter.

“You never were good at lying,”

“I thought about you a lot,” he went on, tone lighter now. “Every time something good happened, mentally you were the first person I would tell. Every time something bad happened… same thing.”

Areum slowed, their steps naturally syncing until they stopped again beneath a streetlight. She tilted her head, studying his expression.

“I used to think,” she said, “that who I was now meant that I had to leave a past behind, like I had to close the door.”

“And?” Nick asked.

“And apparently,” she said, gesturing between them, “doors don’t work like that.”

He smiled. “Well, maybe it can be a glass door. You walk through it, but you can look back and see where you came from.”

She laughed again, then fell quiet— suddenly in thought. Her grip on his arm didn’t loosen.

“It’s strange,” she said. “We both grew up. In many ways we have changed. And somehow… this still feels like old times.”

Nick nodded. “Well, maybe it just shows that deep down, we’re still the same people. Same compatibility.”

She raised an eyebrow.

“Compatibility…as in,” he corrected quickly. “We were able to talk and face each other despite the distance.”

She grinned. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“I race cars for a living,” he said. “Distance is something I try my hardest to close.”

They both laughed, the sound echoing softly down the street.

For a moment, they just stood there, the city around them turning into background noise. Areum shifted closer subtly, her shoulder brushing his chest now instead of just his arm.

“You know,” she said, voice quieter but still warm, “There’s a lot I want to say to you right now, but I don’t think I could actually articulate those words”

Nick looked down at her. “Me neither.”

She hesitated—not nervous, just deliberate.

Then she rose onto her toes—

And kissed Nick.

A gentle kiss, warm, signaling more than could be said in words.

Nick froze for half a second—then relaxed into it, one hand coming up instinctively to steady her at the waist. When she pulled back, her forehead rested lightly against his chest.

“Okay,” she murmured. “That answers that.”

He laughed under his breath, still a little stunned. “How bold of you.”

She smiled, eyes bright. “I don’t like wasting time.”

A small group passed by, and instinctively they stepped apart just a fraction, the reality of where they were settling in. When the street cleared again, neither of them moved back right away.

“This is where we’re supposed to be responsible,” Areum said suddenly.

Nick laughed softly. “We’re already failing.”

She nodded. “Spectacularly.”

“If we do this,” Areum said, quieter now, “it doesn’t stay simple.”

Nick met her gaze. “It hasn’t been simple for a while.”