I feel the car stop, and I’m suddenly awake.

            I fell asleep?

            He must have been taking his lessons seriously, if he was able to drive so smoothly that I fell asleep.

            “We’re here,” I hear him whisper right next to my ear.

            I’m guessing he was hoping to wake me up gently, but that had the exact opposite effect.

            I blink my eyes open, trying to adjust to the lack of lighting outside.

            Everland?

            “An amusement park?” I ask, still feeling sleep tug at my consciousness.

            “Ish,” he says simply as he slowly drives the car forward.

            “Ish?” I ask, confused.

            How can he mean Amusement Park-ish? I’m definitely sure this is an Amusement Park. It says so: Everland Amusement Park.

            We pull away farther from the park entrance and we enter some sort of gate.

            Private parking?

            At the distance, I see some sort of light. I squint my eyes to get a better view.

            It’s some sort of building, one story. It’s definitely long, but only a small part has its light .

            As we get closer to the light, it becomes clearer where Sunggyu brought me.

            I look at him, “How did you manage to pull this off?”

            He shrugs, seemingly pleased with himself, “Magic.”

            “of being a celebrity endorser for Everland Resorts,” he finishes.

            I punch his arm playfully, “This is amazing!”

            He pulls up next to the open pit stop and I immediately get out of the car and run to the track.

            Everland Speedway, I read on the banner hung on the bleachers.

            I feel something heavy put on my shoulders, and I look back to Sunggyu, “You’re gonna get a cold out here, without a jacket.”

            I start bouncing.

            Legit bouncing.

            He laughs at me, “You’re really that excited?”

            “I’ve never driven on a track before,” I explain.

            “Well, you might wanna fuel yourself up before driving,” he says as he leads me back to the pit stop.

            “I hope pizza is fine with you,” he says.

            “Perfect,” I answer, still trying to let it sink in.

            I realize then that I must have overlooked the chairs and tables set up inside the pit.

            “So why did you do it? Race, I mean,” He asks as we take a seat.

            I’m a bit blind-sided by the question, but logically, he did bring me here, so he must have questions.

            I think he takes my silence as hesitance because he starts to back-pedal, “You don’t have to tell me, if it’s really personal.”

            I smile softly, “No, it’s okay, I’m just trying to figure out where to start.”

            We each grab a slice of pizza and I tell him most of the story. Because I’m not sure he’s ready to hear everything, and I’m not entirely sure I’m ready to say it out loud.

            “Officially, I started racing last year, but I was introduced to the scene earlier… Sophomore year in high school, actually,” I start.

            I skip the part that it was an ex-boyfriend that first brought me there.

            “It was an escape, really. It was time away from all the pressures a teenager experiences. Around senior year, I got to try it out for myself,” I continue after taking a bite of my pizza.

            “It was amazing. I felt in control, you know? All that power and I get to control it, it got me hooked. Naturally, Himchan didn’t want me doing it alone because he thought it was dangerous, so he tried it out himself. Now he’s better than me,” I say self-deprecatingly.

            Again, I skipped a few parts. I didn’t mention that said ex-boyfriend tried to force himself on me during one of the races. And Himchan was the only person who helped the sad excuse of a guy off of me.

            Stupid, I know. I was the one who put myself in that situation. I was the one who kept going back to the races. I was the one who wasn’t able to control the situation.

            “Anyway, it was an avenue to relieve stress. Weird, I know. How can it relieve stress when you’re constantly driving in break-neck speeds and you have to constantly look out for pedestrians and cars to avoid? It’s really about not thinking about the past or the future. Taking control of what’s in front of you. That’s why I did it,” I finish.

            He nods, “Next question, how did you know exactly where we were earlier? You had your eyes open, didn’t you?”

            I laugh, “I can’t tell you how many times I passed through that route for a race, I almost got into an accident the first time because a drunk guy came out of nowhere.”

            “How do those kinds of races work exactly? They don’t close any of the roads, right?” He asks, really interested.

            “Since it is illegal, no, they don’t close any of the roads. Someone usually texts the racers around midnight a location of a parking lot. The attendant there tells you where the race will start. When you get to the starting point, the host will tell you the destination and then ask which racers want to participate. Short-distances have a lot of participants, but mid to long-distances have few takers, since that means you have to take a highway or two to get to the destination. And highways equals cops. Once the race starts, drivers can take any route they want. Most direct is the fastest, but that also means you’ll be driving with a lot of other cars,” I explain, finishing my last slice of pizza.

            “So… what happened when you got caught?” He asks hesitantly.

            Memories of that night came rushing back.

            “It was a long-distance run. Gangnam to Incheon. I was the only one up against a returning driver. We weren’t even on a highway, but he was driving right alongside of me, using the lane for incoming traffic. I wasn’t about to let him overtake him, but I saw a car incoming, so I gave him enough room to overtake. But he hit my bumper, and I spun out of control. I was about to shift gears, when I saw the blue and red lights,” I reminisce.

            I didn’t mention that I was racing against the ex.

            “So, that’s why you’re working for Hyejung-noona? Some sort of probation arrangement?” He asks.

            My eyes widen, he remembers everything.

            I nod, “Yeah, my school found out I was brought to a police precinct. But since I wasn’t formally charged, they didn’t have grounds to expel me. So they thought making me work thirty hours instead of racing will rehabilitate me.”

            “You miss it?” He asks.

            “Kinda, but I’m trying not to. I’m still trying to earn back Hoon and Unnie’s trust. I know they’re just looking out for me, but when you take something away from a person, something that defined them; it takes them a while before they replace it. I joke about it with Unnie and Hoon because they think that means I’m getting over it, but yeah, I miss it,” I shrug.

            He takes my hands into his and looks softly in my eyes, “I know you’re holding something back. You probably think I’m not ready to hear it yet, but whatever it is, whenever you’re ready, I’m ready.”

            Damn, great memory and perceptive.

            What have I gotten myself into?

            “I hear the track calling our names, and bringing you back home after midnight might cost me a few more brownie points,” he says with a lighter smile, standing up.

            He leads me to a gray metal box in the corner of the pit, “Ready?”

            I nod, finding my excitement.

            He pulls down the lever and one-by-one the lights on the track turn on.

            I grab his hand and run back to my car.

            I strap myself in, and he does the same.

            “I’ll do a couple of steady laps, to get the feel of the track,” I say as I pull out of the pit lane.