Chapter 2
The rhythmic clang of metal on metal filled the air, accompanied by the sharp scent of oil and gasoline. Vi moved with an ease that spoke of years of practice, her muscular arms flexing under the strain of the work. She was a force of nature in the cramped, cluttered garage, her body a testament to her laborious life. Her short pink hair was a bit messy, the strands falling across her forehead as she wiped sweat from her brow, but it only seemed to add to her fierce, undeniable energy. Tattoos sprawled across her back, intricate designs that looked almost like badges of honor—reminders of battles fought and survived.
You stood by, awkwardly clutching your bag, trying to look as unobtrusive as possible. The garage smelled of dirt and engine grease, the sound of tools scraping and screeching against metal almost deafening. You shifted uncomfortably, wishing you could do more than just watch. You were out of place here, a girl used to pristine surroundings and luxury. Yet, there was something compelling about Vi—something raw and unrefined, but genuine in a way you hadn't encountered before.
Vi glanced over at you as she worked, her gaze sharp and assessing. Her blue eyes, bright and piercing, never missed a detail. Despite the gruff exterior, there was something in the way she carried herself—something that hinted at more than just strength and confidence. There was a kind of warmth behind her eyes, buried deep beneath the rough edges. It was subtle, but it was there.
You cleared your throat, trying to push away the awkwardness that lingered between you. "So, uh... what's the problem?" You asked, trying to sound more confident than you felt. You'd been so lost in the overwhelming chaos of the garage that you hadn't yet dared to ask Vi what the issue with your car was.
Vi didn't answer immediately, her focus still on the engine. Her hands were sure and steady, adjusting wires, twisting bolts with mechanical precision. She didn't seem bothered by your presence, but her intensity was palpable. The way she moved, the way she commanded the space, it was clear that this was her domain. She was in control, and it made you feel both intimidated and oddly impressed.
"Fuel line's clogged. Should've caught it earlier," she muttered, her voice raspy, as though she hadn't spoken much that day. "Your car's a beauty, but it's not built for this kind of work. It's gonna need some TLC. That'll take a while." She didn't look up as she spoke, her hands continuing their work. It was as if she had already assessed the situation and decided what needed to be done without wasting any time.
You stood there, still unsure of what to say. You'd heard mechanics speak in jargon before, but this was different. Vi's confidence made it sound like she truly knew what she was talking about. You had to admit, there was something undeniably attractive about that.
"I... didn't expect this," you said finally, unsure of how to phrase it. You had expected a shiny, state-of-the-art repair shop, not this gritty, grease-smeared place. You had expected someone in a pristine uniform, not someone like Vi—someone who looked like she belonged to the very dirt and machinery she worked with.
Vi shot you a sideways glance, not surprised by your discomfort but not offended either. "Yeah, it's not what you're used to, huh? This place gets the job done though, and that's all that matters. If you want to keep driving that pretty little thing of yours, you'll need someone who knows how to make it work. I'm that someone."
She was blunt. There was no sugarcoating it, no pretending to be something she wasn't. And that, strangely enough, made you feel more at ease. You had spent most of your life around people who were more concerned with appearances than with honesty, and you had to admit—Vi's brash nature was a welcome change from the false pleasantries of high society.
"I guess I've just never been in a place like this before," you continued, rubbing the back of your neck awkwardly. "Everything's so... messy, I guess."
"Messy?" Vi snorted, shaking her head. "This here's organized chaos. I know where everything is." She shot you a quick, almost challenging look, her posture daring you to argue. "This isn't some glitzy showroom. This is where things get fixed, not fawned over." She glanced down at her own clothes—worn, grease-streaked, and stained with oil. "You're not gonna find polished floors or fancy chairs here. You want something real? This is it."
You swallowed the lump in your throat. The sharpness in her voice was disarming, yet there was something oddly comforting about it, as though she was laying it all bare for you to see. There was no pretense with Vi. No carefully constructed persona. What you saw was what you got.
You looked around the shop again. The worn tools hanging on the wall, the scattered pieces of car parts, the engines being torn apart and rebuilt—it was all a bit overwhelming. But there was a strange sense of honesty about it. Nothing was hidden. Nothing was concealed.
"You really know your stuff," you said, trying to break the silence. "I've never seen anyone work like this before."
Vi paused, her hand resting on the engine as she finally turned to face you. The intensity in her gaze softened for just a moment, her lips curling into a half-smile. "I've been doing this since I was a kid. Learned from my old man. He used to run this shop before me, taught me everything I know." She glanced down at the greasy rag in her hand, then wiped it across her forehead again. "He's old now, hard to work on cars when your hands wont stop shaking. He left the shop to me"
There was a slight bitterness to her tone, but it was quickly masked by her usual brashness. You could see that she didn't want to dwell on it.
"That's impressive," you said, your voice softer now, more sincere. "It's not easy to keep something like this going, especially in a place like this." You gestured vaguely at the shop around you, feeling awkward again. It wasn't the most refined place, but it clearly had a reputation for getting the job done.
Vi's expression softened for just a moment, and for the first time, you saw something other than confidence and toughness in her eyes. There was a flicker of something—pride, maybe, or even a touch of vulnerability.
"Yeah, well. Someone's gotta do the work around here, right? It's not a glamorous job, but it pays the bills." Her gaze flicked back to your car, and the soft look disappeared almost as quickly as it had come. "Your car's gonna take a while. Why don't you go grab a coffee or something? I'll call you when it's done."
You hesitated for a moment, not sure how to respond. Vi had turned back to your car, and the focus was back in her eyes as she worked, her hands moving with practiced ease. You were still trying to digest everything that had just happened—Vi's unapologetic nature, her fierce confidence, the warmth that was buried under layers of toughness.
You felt a pull of curiosity. There was something about Vi that intrigued you. She was so different from the people you were used to. She was unapologetically herself, without hesitation or fear of judgment. There was no facade with her, no hidden agenda. And for some reason, that made you want to know more.
"Maybe I'll stick around," you said, surprising yourself with your own decision. "I don't mind waiting."
Vi glanced at you over her shoulder, her expression unreadable for a moment. Then, with a shrug, she returned to her work.
"Suit yourself. But don't get in the way."
You chuckled softly, the tension easing between you. There was something oddly reassuring about Vi's no-nonsense attitude. She wasn't going to coddle you, but there was a strange comfort in that. She didn't expect you to pretend to be something you weren't, and she wasn't going to pretend either.
You found yourself a chair in the corner of the garage, sitting down and watching her work. The sounds of the shop became a bit more familiar, the clattering of tools and the hum of machinery no longer seeming so foreign. And as you watched Vi, focused and determined, you couldn't help but feel a growing sense of admiration.
There was more to her than met the eye. You were beginning to realize that you were just scratching the surface of who Vi truly was. And you had a feeling that this was just the beginning of something unexpected.