Partners in Speed - ver.2 (also Street Racers #2)

32. Taehyung

It's good to simply work on a car. Recently, every day something crazy has been happening. Changes, so many of them. Good changes, that's certain, but it's not like I'm used to the process in itself.

But they are happening, and I'm grateful for the familiarity of repairing a deeply scratched Mercedes. The guy that brought it to me was on the brink of fainting. His sister, apparently, took the car and scratched it on purpose after they fought. Clearly a show-off, not a car person, because he could totally fix it himself.

But it's fine. That's who I do that for.

I smile at that thought. Maybe Jungkook was right, after all. When this guy ran inside, crying about his scratched car, he definitely didn't need a doctor. Maybe if I said 'no'. But I said 'yes', because he needed me. Many... many people need me here. For small shit like that. For bigger issues, like engine problems. For everything, like that college girl.

A while ago I got myself this cool wheeled table. I used to keep everything on the floor, and then wondered why my back hurt. I still have to go into strange positions sometimes, but at least I don't have to bend over a hundred times a day to pick up tools.

I've cleaned the scratch off of any oils and dirt. I've sanded the whole thing, too. It's all over the right side. Two long and crooked lines. Now the most demanding part – painting. This job taught me to be patient, in a way. Now I wonder if I'm usually patient. Maybe I am. I've waited 20 years to be seen by my family, after all.

I'm about to start painting, when I hear a car outside. That could be anyone – from Jungkook to someone from Jimin trying to take me out. Not in the fun meaning of the word.

I leave the paint on the table and walk outside, only to meet my goddamn brother halfway. Not the cool brother. That piece of shit I hoped I'd never see again.

"What the hell do you want here?" I stop at the door, not letting him in. I don't fucking want him here. This is... my safe space. The one where he can't be a shit to me. That has always been my safe space.

"Chill." Hyun puts his hands in his pockets. "I came here with the car."

I snort. "Like I'm gonna work on your car. There's a mechanic on the other side of the city. Get the fuck out of here."

"That's how you treat customers?" He raises his eyebrows. My stomach is twisting. I thought... I thought I was free from them. The idea of meeting my father doesn't bother me, maybe because of what Jungkook has done. But Hyun... he's been the worst evil in the family, ever since I remember. Sure, my parents didn't love me and probably regretted having me, but I always believed Hyun would take an opportunity if he had one to kill me in my sleep.

I wonder what held him back.

"That's how I treat pieces of shit like you," I say. "I'm not doing shit to your car. If you're really here with the car."

He clicks his tongue, walking towards the door. I block his way before he can enter.

"You can't walk in."

"Why not?"

"Because I'm the boss here. And I say that you can't walk in."

"Relax a bit or soon you won't have customers to be letting in."

This should not be messing with me like every single word he's ever said to me did.

I step out of his way. I'm not scared of him. I'm fucking not. He's not a part of my life anymore. I'm not imprisoned there to listen to him.

"So that's what you're doing," he says, looking around. I ignore him and go back to work. "Waste of time." He scoffs. I gulp and twist the brush out of the paint pen. "Taehyung, be honest with me. You really thought anyone would take you seriously when you play with cars all day? It's like you're a child playing with toys, just bigger and louder." He sounds like he's pitying me. Like he's above me.