021

Blind Spot
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Length: 9.1k words

Note(s): to the girlies in this chapter <3

  021  

Italy.

 

Home of the Renaissance. Birthplace of opera. The leading contributor of only the best leather. All of these things amongst other things, of course.

 

Italy’s enduring tradition with street racing and fine cars has made those things akin to art, and thus, extravagance follows when word that tonight’s race features international drivers. When there’s a street race in Italy, it’s only common sense that it takes place in Rome—at the Circuito di Roma, a closed-off circuit that takes its drivers in laps around the Roman Colosseum and Roman Forum.

 

But the extravagance doesn’t stop there.

 

It’s not just the first-class ticket to Rome nor is it the five-star hotels. It’s also…girls—a lot of them.

 

On the ground level, most large street racing teams are composed only of the driver, at least four car maintenance workers, and at least five pretty girls acting as models to attract wealthy investors and to raise the price of bets. No matter where a person goes, a pretty girl and a pretty car is bound to catch the eyes of anyone. Attractiveness, like paper money, is a universal currency. And so, tonight’s race is accompanied by more car models than usual—but it’s not like it matters.

 

The air tastes of electricity when in Italy, and it’s quite literally shocking. Street racing is renowned here. Drivers, to some degree, hold some standing to the locals. There’s no police officer shaking his or her head at a car enthusiast who wants to modify a car; there is only respect. Baekhyun doesn’t speak a word of Italian and neither does he know how to decipher an Italian’s broad hand gestures, but he’s aware enough to know that even a foreigner like him has standing with the spectators.

 

When Baekhyun sits by his car in the service garage, he can hear his opponents—mostly European with only Jennie Kim being the only other one of Asian descent—talk about him. He doesn’t know if they’ve got bad things to say or not, but he hears the name Lux, and it’s enough for him to know that they think highly of him. Why else would they stare his way and whisper closely to each other? Whether if it’s for better or for worse, he’s on their mind.

 

Baekhyun doesn’t usually get nervous when it comes to these sorts of things, of course, but there’s always a first. He has never raced with the majority of tonight’s teams; he only recognizes Jennie Kim’s Seoulite team and the German team from Munich. While those two teams aren’t a particular threat to Baekhyun, he still has the stiff-lipped British team from London to worry about—alongside the Americans and the Swedish.

 

“Boss, you good?” Taeyong whispers to Baekhyun. “You want me to get you something?”

 

“No,” Baekhuyn says, shaking his head at the green-haired boy. “I just can’t wait for this to start already.”

 

Taeyong understands Baekhyun enough to back off, leaving the latter to sit by himself—cross-armed with a clenched jaw—and stare at the other teams. Ever since Mark’s death, Baekhyun hasn’t had the heart to look for new recruits, so he only has Taeyong to help him out with maintenance and transportation of his car. Although Taeyong’s assistance is more than enough, Baekhyun can’t help but to feel alone when he sees how large everyone else’s teams are. They’re all dressed brightly too—fitting for Italy—while Baekhyun is dressed as Lux, who’s anything but bright.

 

While Baekhyun does the second-best thing he’s good at—brooding, of course—he almost fails to notice the woman in a sparkling blue dress angrily walking away from her group right towards him. Since his car is by the end of the long row of garages, Baekhyun dismisses the woman as someone just making her way towards the stands of the circuit, but then he realizes who she is.

 

“Alina?” Baekhyun murmurs under his breath. The last time he saw her, it was in the Philippines, and he recalls her having been shot at least twice when Yonny and his men ambushed the club. “Alina,” Baekhyun says louder when she gets closer, and at that point, her eyes shift from directly in front of her to directly towards him. With a better look at her face, Baekhyun can confirm that it is Alina—the German car model. Her eyes, in the white lights, are as blue as the Atlantic, but Baekhyun can’t help but to think that it looks like she’s on the verge of crying. “Hey,” he greets unsurely.

 

“Hi,” Alina says back in a flat voice. She tries her best to smile, but her lips waver, and she quickly turns her head forward to resume her course back to the stands. Before Alina can take another step further, however, Baekhyun hears another woman yell something at her. He doesn’t know what was yelled, but it’s enough for Alina’s face to pucker up, and Baekhyun doesn’t have to be a genius to know that she’s upset.

 

Without another thought, Baekhyun stands up and strides over to comfort the poor girl.

 

“Hey,” Baekhyun says when he’s by her side. He looks over to the direction where Alina had just been. Sure enough, he sees the German team and its girls—all dressed in short and sequined dresses that only vary by color—looking his way. More specifically, they’re looking at Alina.

 

“Y-You need to go,” Alina mutters under her breath. She shakes her head and keeps her gaze to her feet. “I-I-I’m not good enough t-to talk to the drivers here.”

 

Baekhyun struggles to decipher what Alina has just said, but in between her German accent and the single tear falling down her cheek, he understands the situation at hand. Misogyny, racism, ism, and all the other forms of discrimination has always existed in the world, but they become more apparent in places of competition, and Baekhyun doesn’t doubt that Alina has experienced some form of it here.

 

“Whatever someone said,” Baekhyun starts, “don’t listen to them. The girls are all here to make money, not friends. And I’ve been racing for years. Almost every driver is an —”

 

“I got fired,” Alina interrupts. “Stefan fired me.” She stares right into Baekhyun’s eyes and visibly bites at the inside of her cheek as her lips tremble. “Per-ma-nent-lee,” she says slowly, wiping away her tears, “because I’m not good enough or pretty enough like the schlampen back there.”

 

“What are you talking about?” Baekhyun asks, confused. Almost every girl—if not all of them—present for the pre-race festivities are pretty enough to be on billboards and magazine covers. “You are pretty,” he insists. “You’re pretty to a lot of people, but what does that even have to do with getting fired?”

 

“Everything,” Alina sniffles. “Girls with scars aren’t good enough.”

 

Scars?

 

Baekhyun glances down at Alina’s figure, and even upon a simple look, he quickly notices the puckered scar running down her leg—in the same place where he recalls her having been shot. Alina then tucks her shoulder-length hair behind one ear, exposing another scar on her pale shoulder, just beneath her collarbone. While the two scars are far from ugly to Baekhyun, he understands the implications of having such visibly signs of a past wound.

 

On a general level, scars are associated with imperfection, but in the twisted world of street racing and superficiality, scars are associated with gang activity, punishment, or drug use. Scars represent damage, and while some owners take pride in them, there’s clearly no place for one on a model. It isn’t about aesthetics or symbolism either; scars serve as a reminder of what happened to a person. Thus, Alina must suffer from the psychological damage of having been shot.

 

Because of me, Baekhyun thinks guiltily. He remembers that night in Manila well. Yonny betrayed him, and to send a message, Yonny shot up the club—which undoubtedly resulted in casualties and circumstances such as Alina’s.

 

So this is my fault, he thinks to himself. It all goes back to me.

 

“Don’t worry,” Baekhyun reassures Alina, “you’re good enough.”

 

“No, not good enough,” Alina continues to assert. “Not good enough to have a job, o-or hang out with the ‘cool’ girls—”

 

“But more than enough to hang out with me.”

 

Alina’s bright blue eyes widen in surprise, and Baekhyun admits that he didn’t see his own statement coming from someone like him. For most of his life, he has taken the solitary approach to nearly everything. Don’t care and don’t get involved. Inviting a woman—one who he hardly knows—to enjoy the pre-race festivities with him is the opposite of his own philosophy, but it’s the least that he can do.

 

“N-No, I-I-I can’t,” Alina stammers. “My-My boss—”

 

“The one who fired you?” Baekhyun scoffs lightly. “Stefan? The guy who can only hope to finish second place when I’m around?” He smirks cockily because it’s so satisfying to be able to talk and back it up. “Yeah, I thought so.”

 

“No, I-I-I shouldn’t.” Alina’s German accent becomes more noticeable the more she stammers over her words. “I shouldn’t even be here. I-I should have left five minutes ago.”

 

“But you’re still here, aren’t you?” Baekhyun raises his brows and turns towards his car. Usually, Mark would be there along with Taeyong—sometimes with Mimi, and occasionally Seulgi or Irene—but tonight it’s only Taeyong. “Come on,” Baekhyun says to Alina, “it’s pretty lonely here anyways, and the race starts in ten minutes, so you wouldn’t have to stay long.”

 

“No, Lux, I-I can’t.”

 

“Do I have to hire you?” Baekhyun questions, causing Alina’s jaw to drop. “How much did your boss pay you to look pretty? I’ll match it.”

 

“A-Are you—what?” Alina stutters. “Are you serious?”

 

“Well, I mean…” Baekhyun shrugs as he tries to think of the logistics of his own proposal. “I’d have a lot of explaining to do to my girlfriend.” He chuckles awkwardly because he really did not think this through, and Ange would not at all like the idea of him hiring a model. “And since you live in Europe,” he goes on regardless, “I’d only need you for when I visit here again. But I mean, yeah.” Baekhyun nods. “Sure, I’ll hire you.”

 

“You’re not—you can’t—you’re lying.”

 

“I’ll call you after tonight and we can discuss your terms, if you want,” Baekhyun claims. He stares into Alina’s eyes as if to convey the validity of his own statement. “I’m serious,” he insists softly, “because I’ve been there.” His gaze falls to the scar on her shoulder and thinks of how horrible it must have been for her to experience that—and then to be fired from a job. “I know what it’s like to have nothing—and to feel like you’re not good enough. It’s awful, and no one deserves that.”

 

Alina’s brows unfurl themselves, giving Baekhyun a sign that his words have struck a chord with her. Expressing empathy seldom persuades people—especially the models that have become jaded due to their work—but there is still humanity to be found in them because Alina breaks away from her skepticism.

 

“Really?” she asks quietly. “You’ll give me a job?”

 

Baekhyun forces himself to smile to lighten the mood. “Of course,” he answers. “Come on, show the schlumpins that you’ve gotten a better job.”

 

The corners of Alina’s lips curl upwards to form a small smile. “Schlampen,” she says with a giggle. “The German word? You said it wrong. It’s pronounced schlampen, and,” Alina lowers her voice and leans forward slightly, “it means ‘’ so don’t say it so loud.” Baekhyun raises his brows in surprise, which causes Alina to giggle further. “Why don’t you try this one instead?” Alina smiles warmly. “Danke.”

 

“Danke,” Baekhyun repeats unsurely. He watches Alina’s eyes for signs that he has said it right, and she nods and claps her hands softly.

 

“It means ‘thank you’ in German,” Alina explains, “because thank you for your offer.”

 

“Does that mean you’re taking it?”

 

Alina purses her lips, and Baekhyun thinks she’s about to shake her head, but she nods instead. “Yes,” she answers, “I’m accepting it—on the condition that you make Stefan pay.”

 

“Say less,” Baekhyun promises with a laugh. “He’ll never win first place as long as I’m on the same track.”

 

“Perfect,” Alina says, now unable to stop smiling. Though she had been crying less than ten minutes ago, she seems alright now. “Thank you,” she repeats herself. “You’re a good person.”

 

“Well, I don’t know about that. I’m not a good person just because I treat you nicely, but—”

 

“No, you are,” Alina says, interrupting Baekhyun. She looks around his rather empty garage and then back at her ex-team’s. Unlike his, the rest of garages are boisterously loud. “You’re different,” Alina remarks, “and it’s good. Very good.”

 

Baekhyun doesn’t know what to make of that, but he nods anyways and outstretches his arm to shake her hand.

 

“You have my number,” Alina says, shaking his hand. “Call it.”

 

She walks away just in time for the buzzers in the garages to start ringing. There are only five minutes left until the race begins.

 

“If Mark was here,” Taeyong mutters as he joins Baekhyun’s side, “he’d be ting himself. Even if it was just for a night, I remember him always trying to get you to hire a model to promote Team Lux.”

 

“Team Lux?” Baekhyun asks, frowning. “What the hell is that?”

 

“That’s what Mark called us.”

 

Baekhyun’s gaze drifts over to his feet. Mark. Of course, it was Mark’s idea.

 

“So why’d you do that, boss?” Taeyong asks Baekhyun. “I thought you said you didn’t hire car models.”

 

“I don’t,” Baekhyun answers as he watches Alina walk away. “But I feel bad for her, and I…” Baekhyun thinks about Mark and all the people that have suffered or died as the direct result of himself. While giving one jobless girl a job hardly makes up for it, it’s a start. “And I want to make things right,” Baekhyun finishes quietly. “It’s the least I can do after everything else I’ve done.”

 

 

- - - - -

 

 

The race goes by relatively uneventful since Baekhyun didn’t have to worry about obstacles or maneuvering past other cars. All he had to do was make sure he drifted around the corners of the circuit, pressured his opponents behind him into brake checks, and keep his speed up. Unlike the more thrilling routes in Dubai’s winding roads or Manila’s cramped one, there’s less to lose on a close-circuit race. However, the view of the Roman Colosseum as Baekhyun finished each lap made up for it.

 

But truth be told, Baekhyun didn’t just come to Italy for a race; he came because he and Chanyeol decided that this would be their meeting place. After all, it’s thousands of miles away from Korea—more specifically, thousands of miles away from Junmyeon.

 

“Boss, are you sure you want me to send your car back to the airport?” Taeyong asks Baekhyun when the two of them are back at their hotel’s lobby. “Aren’t you here for, like, another five days?”

 

“Don’t worry, I got another ride,” Baekhyun replies cryptically. Though Baekhyun would usually tell Mark and Taeyong of his intentions and whereabouts, when it involves Junmyeon, it’s best to be kept in the dark. “Just make sure my car’s on its way back to Korea, and you can take the rest of the night off. Go clubbing or whatever.”

 

“Okay,” Taeyong responds without further comment. He’s smart enough not to ask too many questions. “I’ll get on it right away then, boss. Have a good night.”

 

“I’ll see you back in Daegu,” Baekhyun says with a wave. “Remember, your flight is at noon tomorrow.”

 

Whether or not Taeyong hears him, Baekhyun doesn’t know because he’s quick to be on his way, but Baekhyun has to trust him to do his job. While Baekhyun wouldn’t ideally send Taeyong away so soon, he needs to out of safety. Chanyeol informed Baekhyun that Italy’s history with gangs (or rather mafias) is far more extensive than Korea’s and that “eyes” are all around them. If one of these mafias catches scent that criminals of foreign origin are in their territory and planning something, they may not react too kindly. Besides, no one but Baekhyun and Chanyeol need to know of their plan to get rid of Junmyeon.

 

Baekhyun goes back to his hotel room to retrieve a black leather jacket and matching gloves. While Italy is warm enough in the summer not to warrant such clothing, he’ll need it for protection.

 

Upon slipping on the leather jacket, Baekhyun places the gloves in his pocket and heads back downstairs, to the main floor, and into the hotel bar. Chanyeol, being the high-ranking gang member with a flair for anything that comes with bells and whistles, of course has to act mysteriously. All he told Baekhyun was that there would be someone at the bar to give him “supplementary details.” What those “details” are, Baekhyun doesn’t know, but he has to trust Chanyeol.

 

After sitting at the bar and ordering the least expensive, least alcoholic drink (which fortunately, isn’t one of those fruity, tropical drinks with the umbrellas in them), Baekhyun waits for whoever Chanyeol sent.

 

And it only takes a minute.

 

“Hey,” says a voice to Baekhyun’s left.

 

Baekhyun turns to meet the speaker—a woman whose entire persona seems to be made of red. Her tulle dress is red, her lips are red, and even her hair is a bright shade of scarlet. As heavy as it is to be wearing and embodying nothing but red, the color suits her fair skin tone and dark eyes. Undoubtedly, Chanyeol is the one who sent her because if there’s anything that man really loves, it’s international women and bright colors.

 

“Who are you?” Baekhyun questions as the woman sits on the barstool besides his.

 

“I’m Loey’s messenger,” the woman answers in a clear American accent. Lo-wee, she pronounces distinctively. “But my name’s Lizeth,” she continues, flirtatiously shrugging a shoulder. “And my friends call me Liz for short.”

 

Why couldn’t Chanyeol just send me a message on paper? Baekhyun asks himself.

 

“Well, I’ll call you Lizeth then,” Baekhyun says dismissively, “since we’re not friends—”

 

“It’s okay. I like the way my name rolls off your tongue.”

 

Baekhyun stares at Lizeth, and she stares back, blinking rather innocently.

 

“So what’s the message?” Baekhyun cuts to the chase. “Are you here to spike my drink and throw me in the back of a van?”

 

“You watch too many movies,” Lizeth replies with laugh. She shakes her head and turns to survey the nearly empty bar. “But Loey did say that you’re naturally suspicious—even of pretty girls—so I don’t know what I was expecting.” Lizeth tosses her hair behind her shoulder and sighs. “Business is business, though, isn’t it?” With two fingers, she reaches into the top of her dress and fishes out a single key that she tucked between her s. “That’s the message,” she says simply as she pushes the key across the bar counter towards him. “The bike’s in the back lot. Loey said you like fast cars, so I got you the next best thing.”

 

Baekhyun is hesitant to take the keys, but he grasps it firmly in his hand and looks at Lizeth with sudden interest. He thought that she was just another one of Loey’s “friends”—some model representing another street racing team—but it’s evident that she’s above that.

 

“Who are you?” Baekhyun asks as Lizeth gets up from her seat.

 

“I told you already,” Lizeth replies with a grin. “I’m Loey’s messenger, but to you, I guess I’m just Lizeth.”

 

Lizeth leaves the bar shortly thereafter without any other information, leaving Baekhyun there to look at the key in his hand. Ducati, it says on the handle, and Baekhyun smiles because it is the next best thing to fast cars.

 

Minutes later, Baekhyun is outside, revving the engine of an all-black 2061 Ducati Monster. The motorcycle is of Italian engineering, and therefore, there would be no need to smuggle it into the country of its origin. However, there’s a blank space where there should be a serial number on the fuel tank, signaling that it’s still stolen goods—most likely stolen by Lizeth herself. It’s not like Baekhyun cares, though, because it’s still a pretty motorcycle, and he can appreciate good vehicles.

 

Baekhyun zips up his leather jacket and makes sure that his gloves fit around his wrists tightly. Since motorcycles don’t have seatbelts, he’ll need protection in the case that he flies off and skids across the ground. He trusts his motorcycle driving skills as much as he trusts his car driving skills, of course, but he still needs to take precaution.

 

“Here we go,” Baekhyun mutters to himself as he takes out a set of paper directions that Lizeth or Loey must have placed inside the helmet. The directions, thankfully, aren’t complicated; they supply Baekhyun with a clearly marked map and English instructions that would be difficult to misinterpret.

 

After a quick minute of memorizing the instructions, Baekhyun runs his hand through his hair to move it away from his forehead. Upon doing so, he slips on the helmet, revs the motorcycle’s engine, and begins the short journey across Rome.

 

The entire time that Baekhyun traverses through the beautiful city, he thinks about how unfortunate it is that Ange isn’t there to enjoy the sights with him. He knows that she’d love it here because it’s a city rich in history and filled with wonderful architecture. Even by simply glancing across the city’s skyline, Baekhyun’s eye is caught on the dome-shaped rooftops that dot the cityscape. Like most cities, Rome does have its share of dirty alleyways and graffiti-laden buildings, but those things are har

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SkyeButterfly
BLIND SPOT //
🚨 POSTED THE EPILOGUE TODAY 🚨
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nappeungijibae
#1
Chapter 27: Reading Blind Spot was such a rollercoaster ride of emotions. It was intense, gripping, riveting, and beautiful. But I don’t think I can read this again. I won’t put myself through its pain and beauty once more. I'm just glad I survived all the angst. 😭

Gosh, I just can't imagine what Ange must have felt when she thought Baekhyun was dead. And Baekhyun... man how do I even start. He's been through hell and back. 😭

Reading what happened to Baekhyun destroyed me. Cried like a during the car chase and crash scene. Idk, even though it was inevitable that he'd crash and burn, I still hoped he'd make it out of that unscathed (who am I kidding). Your writing is SOOOO impeccable that I could just literally watch the scenes play inside my head.

I don't know how to feel about the ending... I mean, I'm happy that everything worked out in the end, and that they finally got to be with each other after all the they've been through. It just made me sad thinking they had to endure all of those. And I felt there was something amiss. Idk that's just me though 😭 but it's still beautiful. Thank you for writing this story. Your talent never fails to amaze me. 💗
nappeungijibae
#2
Chapter 17: This fic is too much for my heart. I lost it when Mark died. Wtf how cruel 😭 I usually binge-read fics but I just had to take breaks while reading Blind Spot because it’s THAT intense. This makes me wanna skip to the last chapter and see if Baekhyun and Ange got a happy ending (or at least a decent one) because they deserve it. My boy truly deserves it 😭 he’s been through hell and back ohmygosh
kyuyoung20 #3
Chapter 27: I just finished reading Blind Spot the ending is very beautiful they are finally together 💓 thank you for your hard working!!
uwonsyoi
#4
Chapter 1: WHAY THR GUCKING HELL JUSY HAPPENED
kyoongxo #5
reread this for the 5th time because it's just sooooo good!!!
kyoongxo #6
this (and red mercedes) got to be the best baekxoc story I have read, like everything, the plot, the grammar , the characters and how you portrayed/wrote each one of them is amazing to the point that even the villains here are so well written that they make this story so good!!!
mizzinformation #7
Chapter 4: I’ve been subscribed to this fic for a long time and only got to reading it now... and I regret not reading this earlier!!! Anyway, at this point, I know that Angie’s curiosity will lead her into deep trouble sooner than later.
Sykrh_ #8
Chapter 27: Enjoyed this a lot! So beautifully written.

This fic made me tear up a lot & the characters development are amazing! Each & every chapter is perfectly written!

Always coming back to re read the epilogue because it’s just too beautiful not to. Thank you for sharing with us!
kyungsoonized #9
Chapter 10: i really miss how this story made me feel
cuddleupkipper
#10
Chapter 27: After a year i came back here to finish reading this finally 😭😭😭