Chapter Text
Years ago, when she had been young and stupid - well, maybe not stupid, but a little less wise - she had thought that street racing was it. Would be it. Forever the highlight of her life, and the greatest thrill; the scent of gasoline and burning rubber the only sort of drug she needed. She'd done it since she was a kid, and knew she was good at it; maybe not the best, but would be, one day. The only thing in her way was the equipment itself, which she constantly was searching for new ways to improve and push to its limits.
As for school? She'd gone through it to please her parents, nothing more. As long as she got her As, she could do what she wanted, and it had been enough encouragement until one day she'd realized that she hadn't brought her science project to school. Rather than risk taking the blow to the grade, she'd been desperate enough to pull together some notes in the lunch hour before the class, scraping something together with the help of a few classmates and somehow, somehow it had been enough to present.
It just so happened that her school had a visitor that day - a professor from SFIT, no less. He'd struck up a few words of conversation without her realizing who he was, and then the two of them getting in to a discussion about the wheel's design, and then she'd realized whom she was talking to and been too stunned to say anything. Even when he'd made an off-hand comment about how if this was what she could do in a sprint, then he wondered what she could do with an actual lab and equipment...
She'd then taken it as a challenge. And everything else had fallen in to place from there. Her parents had never seen her so driven before, not even before a race, and as this seemed quite a bit less dangerous...well, they'd given as much support as they could. Which was quite a bit, and her acceptance in to the Institute had led to a heck of a party all around.
Go Go still had a photo from that night on her phone. She may not have been as prolific as Honey Lemon when it came to memorializing such things, and it hadn't even been her who'd taken it; Mom had sent it to her, later, and she'd ended up setting it as her wallpaper for a while before letting it simply remain a data file. One she only looked at when scrolling through the gallery, which was mostly filled with in-progress shots to send to a few friends, or inspiration from concept vehicles- bikes, cars, even air and water craft could help jog her mind, get her drafting, or poring over their specs in hopes of finding something she could use...
She didn't do that much, anymore. At least, not as often as she used to. She'd graduated, gotten a 'real job', but most of her free time had her going over her own designs, searching for ways to upgrade and improve in a never-ending race to get better. Get faster.
And maybe one day it'd be fast enough.
Probably never. Hell, even this, going out to the roads to watch one of the street races - she barely did this anymore, and when she did, it wasn't for pleasure. But this, tonight...
She glanced up from her phone at the sound of an approach, automatically on guard until she saw who it was - and even then, she knew damn well that she could by no means lower that guard, even as the young man held out a bottle in offering.
"Didn't know what you'd like," he said apologetically, sitting down beside her. "Tell me when you're just watching, next time, and I'll be more prepared?"
Go Go didn't drink much - never when she going to drive or ride, she'd never been that stupid - but she could hold her own. She accepted the bottle with a light 'mmm' of acknowledgement, looking back down at the drivers getting themselves ready. For a while, that was all she did, aside from using the bottle opener her companion had tossed over before tossing it back, and the silence was comfortable enough for the both of them.
It was an interesting - friendship? Was that even the right word? Interesting whatever-this-was, she had with the guy. Somewhere between rivals and race-enthusiasts. Shin, as he called himself, preferred the four-wheeled variety as opposed to the bikes that were her passion...but seemed skilled with driving both, as he'd proven the few times they'd pit themselves against one another.
Directly or not.
"Thought you were 'working' tonight," she said eventually, not bothering to look at him. He knew exactly what she was referring to, and in turn, he knew exactly where she was coming from asking. But he only shrugged back, reaching to scratch at the base of his long ponytail.
"Yeah, ah, he's in one of his moods. Better to let him do his own thing." At her raised eyebrow, Shin shook his head, adding quickly- "Not that kind of thing, it's not one of those. At least...I don't think so."
"Mmm." She took a drink, but let her dubiousness show through. Though...that was the best he could offer, really, and she knew that. If they never got specific about what they were referring to, neither of them could get in trouble one way or another, and she'd used him to vent a couple times (like when Fred'd pulled something particularly stupid or Hiro had gotten in to one of his own moods), but... "He'll calm down?" she had to ask, half out of concern for the next few days, half for...well.
Everything else.
Shin shrugged helplessly. "Probably. Usually. Worst comes to worst, I hang out here for a couple days until I get a call that he needs me to make a supply run."
What they had was interesting, too, but Go Go never pressed for specifics. She knew if she did, she'd lose him; in turn, he knew that if he pushed...she was only so sure what he was getting out of this, or thought he was getting, but for her, at least, for a while, she could pretend that there was nothing but the race below and the cool air of the night, and that she wasn't going to have to go home and try to wonder if it there was anything there she'd learn and could use.
And if it was right to do so.
Shin wasn't her friend, not like the other was, but he was at least a companion, here, and a reminder that even amid all the chaos of their lives...there was still a part of her that was, and would always be more fascinated with the workings of the engine than the output. The design, as opposed to the product- he wasn't as technical as she was, but as she steered the conversation towards commentary on the night's offerings...
It was a fragile, and false solace, but it was hers. One where she could edge towards tipsy and the two of them could commiserate about the handling of the driver at the rear, the stolen win of the one making its victory lap - and one where she could pretend she wasn't still in the race, with no finish line in sight.