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she stares at the foreign car parked in the number one spot for longer than she should. she has half the mind to lower herself to the ground to check the skid wear and wheel degradation, but she can’t and she won’t.
oh haewon is this years favorite to win the championship, one race in second place is nothing. and yet she feels like she could burn the whole place to the ground. fuck the stewards, fuck the fans, fuck the sponsors and especially fuck her dumbass strat engineers.
she removes her helmet calmly, aware of the millions of eyes and cameras on her. her expression must remain stoic lest they get another article about her ‘bad attitude’ flying about.
she stands quietly in line, waiting to be weighed. someone pats her on the back, tries to make conversation but she simply smiles back without a word. she doesn’t even register who it is.
seol yoona runs into her teams waiting arms and haewon watches on from the line.
she checks her nails, hoping to block out the happy screams and chants for locket. she always hated the name. what kind of racing team at the pinnacle of all racing names itself locket.
she sets her helmet down on the column, reaching for the fancy water bottle and cap.
‘2nd’ is prettily engraved on the side. she imagines a seam ripper sliding neatly across the gold threads.
the driver on third steps forward to do their interview and haewon takes that time to blow air on her face, hoping the color on her cheeks reduces by the time she has to go on camera herself. she even waves to the fans on the bleachers.
she knows exactly what the interviewer is going to ask before she even gets handed a microphone. it doesn’t matter though because she can’t even recall her answer. surely it was one of the things they drilled into her head during pr, “it’s not ideal, but we’ll work harder.”
work harder, huh? as if she didn’t give away her entire childhood and any money her parents could come up with to be able to race where she has. how hard she trains, how much she’s had to leave behind and yet they want the fans to believe there’s more for her to give up. more to sacrifice in order to stand on the top step.
there’s no cameras in the halls to the cooldown room. as soon as she’s in there she’s met with her cousin and trainer, seungmin. he’s half way through a congratulations when he asks, “what’s wrong?”
“what’s wrong?” she scoffs, “a fucking midfielder just pushed me off first place, seungmin. that’s what’s wrong.”
fox eyes squint at her for a second before she’s pushing past him before he’s able to piss her off more.
the cooldown room is always nice and cold, haewon sits primly on one of the couches and pretends to watch on as replays pass through the screen in front of them.
mostly she’s zoning out, but partly she is distracted by the heat oozing from yoona. first podium, first win. there’s at least three feet of distance between them and yet haewon can only feel the excitement and happiness radiating from her body. something about it is so annoying.
yoona doesn't drive a car that makes it to podium, she doesn’t have a team able to make that type of car. haewon does. yoona shouldn’t even be in the top five, and yet here she sits, bouncing with happiness watching everything on the screen with fervor.
it’s barely her second year and she’s set the car in first, winning her first grand prix. the media outlets are going to go berserk with it. haewon can already see the headlines: seol yoona, next formula one legend?
they don’t know what it takes to be a legend. many things take part in it and one of those things is consistency. someone putting their car in first place due to luck is not that.
when yoona looks at her, beaming in her quiet way, she forces herself to smile back. “good job.” she says, meaning none of it.
but yoona knows. if the way the left corner of her mouth drops slightly is anything to go by. at this point she might be one of only two people in the whole paddock that can read between the lines of haewons’ carefully crafted racing persona. the other being her cousin who’s known her since before either of them could walk.
with yoona it was one small, drunk mistake during a party that stretched into nights spent together and messages that only contained hotel room numbers. it’s thanks to it that she has inserted herself so deep under haewons’ skin in the two years they’ve spent sharing the paddock. and a bed at least once per weekend.
yoona stretches her hand towards haewon. an innocent handshake to anyone else, but as much as yoona claims to know her, haewon knows her back. she’s already expecting the nails grazing her inner wrist when it happens. “tough race, right?”
haewon only lets herself nod with a smile, her head already half way turned to the screen in front of her. she watches on as her teammates’ car slides off the track and into the grass in slow motion. she reminds herself to set a light grimace on her face as it plays again at a different angle only because she still has to drive and film content next to chaeyoung for another year and they’d agreed to keep up appearances for that.
the podium celebration goes without a hitch, the anthem plays, the champagne burns her eyes and sticks in her hair. and if she aims her bottle straight on yoona, well, the audience doesn’t have to know what she feels about it.
it’s only in her drivers room that she’s able to look at her phone.
1| SEOL yoona locket FE3
2| OH haewon papillion FE3
3| SHIN ryujin itz voltage
third year in the senior team, the seasons predicted champion, uncontested in equal machinery. and she’d gone and bottled the race to the junior team. she’s pathetic.
she gets on with her cooldowns.
her engineer tries to talk to her as she’s making her way to the back exit of the garage for a break. she answers with her usual, “we’ll work harder.” because she has no energy to do much else.
despite the race ending, her day doesn’t close until after the team has their post race debrief meeting.
all she wants is to get to her sweet hotel bed as soon as possible.
apparently that’s not an easy enough thing to ask for, she thinks when she spots yoona.
beautiful yoona in normal clothes and wet hair from scrubbing the champagne off it, she’s sure. haewon is still wearing her sticky suit tied around her waist.
her alleged lack of energy to even change into her team kit or argue with her mechanics turns out to be a lie. the anger towards herself that’s been simmering up her throat all day finally explodes against yoona. she thinks it feels like grief.
“what the fuck is your problem?” haewon spits.
yoona slowly sets her eyes on her, a smile growing on her lips, “my problem?”
she knows the younger girl was waiting for her, knows she’s got haewons’ habits, including running off when she’s upset, listed in her mind.
she has to look up at yoona to make eye contact. it makes her mad so she shoves her finger into her chest when she states, “something is off about your shitty car and just because you’ve won once doesn’t mean you’ll do it again.”
“you think this was luck?” she tilts her head further back, looking at haewon down her nose.
“what else would it be?” she exhales, “you don’t have what it takes.”
haewon feels the room spin and breathes through the sharp pain up her back as yoona pins her arms to the wall, her eyes lidded, “i beat you in unequal machinery, world champion.”
she steps away and only then does haewon notice her own breath coming in fast.
“put me in equal machinery, i’m sure i could end your streak.” yoona flips her long hair onto her shoulder.
haewon laughs. “you think i can make decisions like that? recommend you to nayeon so easily?” she takes a deep breath, “i worked my ass off for papillon to consider me, and you think you can join me because, what, we’re fucking?”
yoona studies her nails, much like haewon had during her celebration, “i know chaeyoungs’ contract ends this year, i know her performance has been shit enough that they won’t sign her again,” she shrugs, “i also know that what you call luck is the new upgrades that will keep us in the top five for a while longer.”
“and i’ve got my first win,” she continues, “i’ve shown consistency in the junior team, it only makes sense that they’ll think about promoting me,” yoona steps closer again, caging haewon with her long arms against the wall, “what i want, is for you to push the idea. agree with them, act impressed when i do good. that’s all.”
“and why the hell would i do that, seol?” haewon finds that her voice is not as stern as it should be.
“well,” yoona traces a finger on haewons jaw, “you’ll finally get a worthy rival. isn’t that what you’ve always wanted? unless you actually think i’ll beat you.”
being a woman in motorsports is a hard thing. millions of male fans, reporters and whatnots always mention how you must’ve fucked your way to the top, to the pinnacle of racing. haewon never minded much, she knows they’re simply afraid of successful women but it’s still annoying nonetheless. and yet, here is yoona, asking her fuck buddy and senior at the company to help her climb the ladder. haewon wonders if their little game started with yoona already hoping for the promotion or if the idea sprouted randomly as they made out in haewons’ hotel room.
she slaps yoonas’ hand off her face. what the younger woman doesn’t know is that the papillon team has been considering her since the beginning of the season, the start of yoonas’ second year. she’d gained a few sponsors after the china gp when her face was shown on the big screen as she removed her helmet. and in miami when she divebombed from p14 to p6, overtaking eight drivers before the mid point of the race. it had impressed the entire papillon garage, haewon not included. back then she didn’t have a need to watch out for yoona. to her, the beautiful girl was simply a convenient hook up partner, someone to de-stress with during race weekend. she’d never expected for her feelings to get in the way or for yoona simply use her as an asset, a stepping stone.
“i’m sure you don’t need my help with that,” she finally responds, tiredly, “i’m the better driver, don’t forget that.”
haewon makes to walk away then stops to give yoona one last look over. “don’t get in my way, seol. the championship is mine.”
she doesn’t stop again until she’s in at the back of the garages, she spots some other drivers in the distance. when she slides down the wall and into a squat she pointedly ignores how the spot on her jaw that yoona grazed tingles lightly.