The hum of the engine was a relentless pulse in the confined space, a counterpoint to the erratic rhythm of Minho's own heart. The city, a sprawling tapestry of light and shadow, blurred past the window, each illuminated building a fleeting glimpse of lives he wasn't a part of. Beside him, Seo-Jun was a monolith of controlled energy, his profile etched in the dim glow of the night lights, a mask of cold indifference. "When we arrive at the racetrack, don't bother me with trivial matters, alright? I should be focused on the road all the time." The words were a blade, sharp and precise, designed to cut through the silence.
Minho kept his gaze fixed on the passing scenery, each building, each fleeting face, a momentary distraction from the storm brewing within. "Yes, sir." he replied, the words a practiced response, a shield against Seo-Jun's unpredictable moods.
Then, Seo-Jun's voice sliced through the silence once more, colder this time, edged with a steel that sent a jolt of apprehension through Minho. "If someone hurts you, escort yourself to the nearest hospital and contact me in the morning to pick you up." The words were a stark reality check, a reminder of the danger that lay ahead, of the price Minho might pay. Minho finally turned, his eyes meeting Seo-Jun's, searching for a flicker of emotion, a hint of the concern he thought lay buried beneath the icy exterior. He found nothing but the same impassive gaze, the same impenetrable facade. "Rude bastard. You don't care about me at all, do you?" The thought, a venomous whisper, clawed at his insides. But he swallowed the words, the familiar ache of loneliness a dull weight in his chest. "Got it." he muttered, turning back to the window, the city lights reflecting in his narrowed eyes, each a tiny spark of defiance in the gathering darkness.
The tires of the car screamed as Seo-Jun slammed on the brakes, bringing the vehicle to an abrupt stop right beside the racetrack. Before Minho could even process what was happening, Seo-Jun was already out of the car and striding towards the track. Minho, feeling a bit out of place and wary of potential security, hurried to keep pace, sticking close to Seo-Jun's back.
As they approached the entrance, a large canvas tent dominated the scene. It was buzzing with activity. Seo-Jun entered without hesitation, and Minho followed, the flap of the tent closing behind them, momentarily shutting out the noise. Inside, a group of guys clustered around a table, their faces illuminated by the soft glow of strategically placed lamps. The moment they saw Seo-Jun, the group sprang to attention, their conversations halting mid-sentence.
Sam stepped forward, a welcoming smile plastered across his features. "Seo! Perfect timing, we still need to—" But before he could finish, Minho emerged from behind Seo-Jun. The room fell silent. Sam's smile widened, and he waved at Minho, greeting him with a cheerful, "Oh, hello there!"
Minho's mind raced. "What's going on here? Did Sam know I was coming? Did Seo-Jun tell him? Why isn't anyone surprised?" He glanced at Seo-Jun, seeking answers, but Seo-Jun's expression was unreadable, a mix of annoyance and something else Minho couldn't quite decipher. Seo-Jun simply sighed, his gaze distant, as if reliving a conversation from earlier, a conversation that had taken place at the Bloodline gang…
Earlier that day…
Seo-Jun and Sam were walking together, discussing business work. As they moved, Sam suddenly brought up a specific topic, "Hey, boss. You will come to the track tonight, right?" His words were carefully chosen, as if trying to keep Seo-Jun in a good mood. Seo-Jun responded with a sharp, "Yes."
A grin stretched across Sam's face, a boyish enthusiasm that belied the darkness that swirled around them. "Great! Because those assholes didn't get the message straight the last time you were there. And honestly, they're starting to get on my nerves as well."
Seo-Jun's gaze sharpened, his eyebrow arching in a cold question. "Are they still causing trouble?" The words were measured, devoid of warmth.
Sam sighed, the weight of the situation pressing down on him. "Yeah. After you left that night, they started asking the others to compete against them, and if they refused, they beat them up. Yesterday, I even got into a 'fight' with one of them. I think it was their leader or something, but he got away before I landed the first punch." A proud smile touched his lips. "Ha, idiots!"
The group was a festering wound, the reason Sam had summoned Seo-Jun away from Minho that night when Seo-Jun left the house in a hurry.
Seo-Jun's grin was a predatory curve of his lips. "I will see what they will do tonight. If they cause any problems, we won't see their faces anymore." In his tone, there was no humanity, no empathy, only the cold promise of retribution.
The door to Seo-Jun's office, a polished obsidian slab, stood before them, a silent sentinel guarding the inner sanctum. Sam grinned with mischief. "That's what I wanted to hear! See you tonight then!" he announced, the words laced with the thrill of the impending evening. He took a step, already anticipating the night's events, the energy around him practically vibrating.
But Seo-Jun, a sudden recollection sparking in his mind, called out, "Oh, and Sam..." The name hung in the air, a tether pulling Sam back. His expression shifted, curiosity replacing his previous exuberance. "I'll bring that boy with me tonight as well." The words, sharp and precise, sliced through the atmosphere, the casual tone belying the weight of the statement.
Sam's smirk widened, a predatory gleam in his eyes. "The same boy? The one who graced us with his presence that night, the one I had to...politely escort out? Your sex buddy?" He winked, the gesture a taunt, a playful jab at Seo-Jun's expense. "Looks like you made up with him after your fight. Happy to see it. You're finally yourself again." His hand slipped into his pocket, a casual movement that didn't quite hide the tension simmering beneath the surface.
Then, a shadow of uncertainty crossed Sam's face, his brow furrowing slightly. "But...isn't this a bit much? Letting him tag along, despite the lingering questions about his loyalty? Even to the racetrack? It's like he's playing us, trying to get close, to gather information. Shouldn't you reconsider? We don't know who he really is now and what his true intentions are." His voice dropped slightly, the playful facade momentarily gone, replaced by a genuine concern.
Seo-Jun's voice was a venomous whisper, "He can't do much. I know what he is capable of doing. I pity him, actually." A chilling laugh, like the rustle of dry leaves in a graveyard, filled the air, and he continued, "He's been trying so hard to worm his way into the gang. He even concocted a whole news story about this power outage that 'happened' a few days ago, desperate to look for information inside my house. And yet, he's still empty-handed. I'm intrigued by what he's after at the racetrack, and how far he's willing to go to find it." His lips curled into a predatory smirk, his eyes reflecting a cold, calculating delight. "It wouldn't hurt to have him around tonight. In fact, I relish the thought of watching him struggle, of seeing him fail repeatedly. It brings me a certain... satisfaction. So, if you please, let me indulge myself."
Sam's reaction was a blend of frustration and reluctant acceptance. "As you wish, boss. Just be careful." he said, his voice laced with a warning that went unheeded. He turned away, his posture stiff with disapproval, his head shaking almost imperceptibly. He didn't agree with Seo-Jun's decision, the tension radiating from him.
Seo-Jun's smirk widened, a promise of impending malice. "Don't worry, I always am." he assured, his voice a silken threat. With a final glance, he turned and vanished into the shadowed sanctuary of his office, the door closing with a definitive, ominous sound, sealing the fate of those who dared to cross his path.
The memory flickered, a snapshot of the day's tense exchange. Sam plastered a smile across his face, the very picture of camaraderie. His hand shot out, a gesture of forced friendship extended towards Minho. He was a predator in sheep's clothing, ready to glean whatever secrets Minho might hold about the racetrack.
Minho, caught off guard, offered a hesitant "H-Hi!" His grip on Sam's hand was firm, a silent declaration of his own unease. "I didn't get the chance to properly introduce myself to you the last time we met. So, I am Sam, Seo-Jun's best friend!" Sam declared, his eyes dancing with a calculated mischief as he nudged Seo-Jun with a playful elbow.
Seo-Jun, however, was not amused. A flash of annoyance crossed his face, and his hand shot out, delivering a sharp slap to the back of Sam's neck. "Don't touch me." he growled, his voice tight with frustration. "Ouch!" Sam feigned injury, rubbing the spot where Seo-Jun had struck him.
A slight giggle escaped Minho's lips, followed by a formal bow. "I am Minho." he announced, his tone a delicate blend of seriousness and amusement. "Oh, you have manners, I respect that!" Sam declared, his voice laced with a subtle mockery. He leaned closer to Minho, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "Not like some people…" he murmured, the implication hanging heavy in the air, directed squarely at Seo-Jun.
Minho's laughter, light and airy, sliced through the atmosphere, a clear indication that he was privy to a private joke at Seo-Jun's expense. Seo-Jun, however, remained unbothered, his face a stoic mask, his eyes betraying a hint of confusion as he struggled to decipher the source of their amusement.
Then, Sam, his smile a beacon of warmth, broke the momentary silence. "Nice to meet you, Minho! I hope to see more of you here!" His voice rang out, filled with genuine camaraderie. Minho, a sense of relief washing over him, mirrored Sam's smile. He found solace in Sam's approachable demeanour, a stark contrast to the rigid facade Seo-Jun presented. He bowed his head in response, a polite gesture, "It's nice to meet you too!"
Sam, seizing the opportunity, playfully grasped Minho's hand, his voice booming as he turned to the other members of the team, "HEY GUYS! LOOK WHAT WE'VE GOT OVER HERE!" The words echoed through the space, drawing the attention of a few curious onlookers. They approached with open arms, their faces alight with curiosity and welcome.
Seo-Jun, his gaze fixed on Minho and the burgeoning circle of members, felt a flicker of annoyance. He rolled his eyes, a subtle gesture that betrayed his inner turmoil. He turned away, his focus shifting towards the tent where he sought solace and preparation for the upcoming race.