A/N: either my computer is rebelling against me, or the site won't let me unmark this as Rated M.... oh well

Chapter 2: The Driver

So this is what it’s come to. Waiting for the bus like a normal civilian. This knocks Amber’s street cred down a notch. Luna will laugh her off.

F(x) is used to walking everywhere together, but they’re already at the yard, and Amber’s feeling lazy. She’s drawing circles on the ground with her spray paint until it starts to rain. . Now she’s really not walking.

The sleek black sports car rolls up with a purring engine, and Amber freaks for a minute, wondering if it’s an undercover cop. She’s had a tussle with those s before. The driver rolls down the window and reveals himself.

“Get in,” he orders. It’s the same guy from the street, with the perfect face and the long hair.

“Are you a cop?” she asks defensively, tucking the spray paint away.

“Do I look like a cop?”

No, he doesn’t. He looks too good. Then again, she’s been with a cop before, and he also looked good… until he handcuffed her for vandalism and theft. Great ethics.

“What do you want?” she glares at him. She doesn’t care how hot he is, she’s not getting into some stranger’s car like a e. Gang members have morals too. Somewhat.

“It’s raining. I’ll give you a ride. You don’t look like a public bus kind of girl,” he says.

In the passenger seat of his incredibly y car, she asks him, “What kind of girl do I look like?”

He smirks. “Like a girl who gets into trouble a lot.”

“You wouldn’t be wrong,” she admits.

There’s silence until he turns up the radio. , it’s her favorite song. She loves the sound of the bass and how it vibrates her body. He drives the car a little faster.

“I’m Amber,” she offers.

“Hey, Amber,” he responds with a smirk.

“Who are you?” she presses after she sees he has no intention on greeting with his name.

“Who am I? I’m your driver. I’ll take you somewhere cool.”

She leans back into the seat, observing him. If he pulls anything, she can handle herself. But she hopes he pulls something fast. She still wants it bad.

She feels her phone vibrate in her pocket but ignores it. The girls will have to wait. She needs time to figure this guy out.

“I love this song,” she compliments his choice in music.

“Thanks. I mixed it.”

“What?”

“It’s my song.”

She bursts into a gulping laughter, the one all the prissy girls at school used to mock her for because it was so un-ladylike. And then they shut up when Sulli and Krystal jumped them in the girl’s bathroom. And took their make-up.

The driver looks confused, one eyebrow raised. “It’s that unbelievable?”

“This,” she points to the system, “is some underground . I’d wager that only a hundred people have heard this song, and most of them are gang members. A guy like you driving around in a car like this? There’s no way you mixed this.”

“Beautiful speech,” says the driver. “Do you know who made it then?”

She rolls her eyes. “If you’re playing it in your car, you have to know that it’s unknown. He or she just goes by ‘DJ’ or some like that.”    

“So for all you know, I could’ve mixed it.”

“For all I know, you could be a serial killer.”

He smirks again. Damn. She’s in trouble. At some point, her clothes are coming off for this guy. She resists the urge to tag his dash.

A/N: Next chapter update will come this weekend :D