Chapter 9
The quiet hum of your phone was the first sign of the day. You'd gotten used to checking it first thing in the morning, almost instinctively reaching for it as soon as you woke up. But this time, when you unlocked your screen, it wasn't just any message waiting for you. It was from Vi.
"You busy today?"
The question was simple, casual, but it made your heart skip a beat. It had only been a few days since that night at the bar, and you'd exchanged a few texts here and there since then, but nothing like this. There was a tinge of something unspoken in her words, something that made your stomach flutter.
You quickly typed out a response, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.
"Not really. What's up?"
You held your breath, waiting for her reply. When it came, the tension was palpable in the short message.
"Just wondering if you're free later. Might have a few hours to kill. Thought I could swing by your place and hang out."
A smile tugged at your lips despite your best efforts to play it cool. Hanging out. That's what she wanted to do, right? Just hang out.
"Sure, that sounds good. You can come by around 2."
You set your phone down with a deep breath. You hadn't expected to feel the familiar rush of anticipation. After all, this wasn't anything new—you had spent time together before. But something about the way Vi made you feel was different.
When the clock finally hit 2:00 PM, your doorbell rang, and you practically jumped out of your skin. You'd spent the last half hour nervously pacing, trying to prepare yourself for whatever this visit was going to turn into. You still weren't entirely sure what was going on between you and Vi, and that uncertainty kept you on edge.
Opening the door, you saw her standing there, her bold stance as commanding as ever. She wore a loose tank top that showed off her tattoos, her muscular arms crossed in front of her as she leaned against the doorframe with a small, teasing grin.
"Hey, didn't think you'd be that eager to see me," Vi said with that familiar smirk of hers.
You rolled your eyes, trying to keep the nerves at bay. "Just making sure I'm not about to get dragged into some crazy adventure," you teased, stepping aside to let her in.
Vi chuckled and walked past you, the faint smell of engine grease and leather lingering in her wake. The mix of her confidence and the raw energy she carried was always overwhelming. You didn't know how she did it—how she seemed to walk through the world like she owned it, but she did. And there was something undeniably attractive about that.
You both made your way to the living room, and as Vi sat down on the couch, you perched on the edge of an armchair, not quite sure what to do with your hands. There was an electricity in the air that made everything feel a little too charged, too uncertain.
Vi picked up the remote and flicked on the TV, but neither of you really seemed to be watching. There was a lull in the conversation, a silence that settled in between you two, thick and uncomfortable.
"So, what's up?" you asked, your voice breaking the quiet.
Vi shrugged, her eyes flicking to you. "Just wanted to get out of the shop for a bit. It's been crazy, y'know?"
You nodded. You had heard about the kind of work Vi did, the hours she put in. It was all-consuming, and you couldn't imagine being in her shoes. There was a part of you that admired her for it—the grit, the determination, but also a part of you that wanted to help her escape from it, even just for a while.
"I get it," you said quietly. "It's gotta be tough."
Vi glanced at you, her gaze softening for a brief moment before she masked it with her usual tough exterior. "Yeah, it is," she muttered. "But I manage."
You let the silence stretch again, both of you unsure of how to keep the conversation flowing. There were a thousand things you wanted to say—things about her, about how you felt when she was around—but something held you back. You couldn't pinpoint exactly what it was. Maybe it was the gap between your worlds, the divide between the life you led and the one she did.
The text conversations had been easier—simple jokes and lighthearted exchanges. But now that you were face-to-face, the weight of everything hung in the air, unspoken.
It wasn't long before Vi broke the silence, shifting in her seat to face you. "So," she began, her tone casual, "what's it like? Living in that big house, with everything handed to you?"
You froze, caught off guard by the question. It wasn't the first time someone had asked about your family's wealth, but there was something about Vi's bluntness that made it feel sharper.
"It's... not as great as people think," you said, struggling to find the right words. "There are expectations, a lot of pressure. I'm supposed to be... a certain way, you know?"
Vi raised an eyebrow, her fierce eyes narrowing slightly. "Like what?"
You shifted in your seat, feeling a little uncomfortable. "Like... I'm supposed to follow in their footsteps. Take over the family business. Marry someone they approve of. All that stuff."
Vi let out a low laugh, but it wasn't mocking. It was understanding. "Sounds like a lot of rules to follow. I guess it must be hard, not being able to do what you want."
You sighed, looking down at your hands. "It is. And they don't understand why I want something different. They think I'm wasting my potential by not following the plan."
Vi's expression softened slightly, and she leaned forward. "Sounds like you need a way out," she said quietly.
You looked up, meeting her gaze. "I don't know if I'm strong enough to make that change," you admitted. The words slipped out before you could stop them, the vulnerability raw in your voice.
Vi studied you for a long moment, her lips pressed into a tight line. There was a fire in her eyes, something fierce and protective that made your heart skip a beat. "You are strong enough," she said firmly. "You just have to believe it."
There was something about the way she said it—so certain, so unwavering—that made you feel like maybe, just maybe, she was right.
"Thanks," you whispered, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Vi didn't smile back, but there was a softening in her features, something almost tender beneath her tough exterior. And in that moment, you felt a connection that went deeper than just the surface. This wasn't about the differences in your lives; it was about the way she saw you. The way she made you feel seen, even when you felt lost in your own world.
But the tension lingered. Both of you were tiptoeing around the elephant in the room—the undeniable chemistry that sparked between you whenever you were near her. The awkwardness, the uncertainty, the fear of what could happen if either of you made a move. It hung in the air like a heavy fog.
After a few moments of silence, Vi shifted again, her posture becoming more relaxed. "Hey, I was just thinking about something," she said, breaking the tension. "There's this new mechanic shop that opened up in Zaun. They've got this crazy new tech, and I was thinking maybe we could check it out together."
You blinked at her, surprised by the sudden shift in topic. "A new shop? In Zaun?"
"Yeah," Vi said with a grin. "You've never seen Zaun from that side of things. Figured it might be fun."
Despite the weight of everything that had been said before, you smiled back. "I'd like that," you replied.
And for a moment, everything seemed a little simpler, a little lighter. You weren't sure what was going to happen between you two. You weren't sure if you were ready for whatever was unfolding. But in that moment, you were willing to take the chance.
The growing pains of your relationship—the awkwardness, the confusion—didn't feel quite as insurmountable as they had before. You might not have all the answers yet, but you were starting to feel like you could figure it out. Together.
Chapter 9: Growing Pains (Continued)
You followed Vi down the bustling streets of Zaun, the sounds of the city swirling around you—the clanging of metal, the distant hum of engines, and the low murmur of voices from shopfronts. The further you walked, the more you felt the stark contrast between your life and this world. Here, everything felt so raw, so real. There was no facade, no pretense—just the grit and grind of survival.
As you walked in step with Vi, her presence felt like a shield, a comforting wall of confidence amidst the chaos. Her muscular frame, broad shoulders, and tattoos told a story of resilience, of fighting tooth and nail to make a life in a place like Zaun. You'd never thought you'd feel so small in the face of it all, but beside her, you almost did.
"We're almost there," Vi said, her voice cutting through the noise. She was walking with that casual, confident stride, but there was something about the way she held herself today—slightly tighter, as if she was preparing for something. You couldn't help but notice the way her eyes flickered from building to building, as if she were scanning for any signs of trouble, though the city seemed peaceful enough for now.
You arrived at a large building after a few more turns. The sign out front read: "Titan Motors - The Future of Engineering". The words were sleek and modern, with sharp, metallic lettering that gleamed in the daylight. The building itself looked pristine compared to the rest of the rundown street. Windows sparkled, and you could hear the faint buzz of machinery coming from inside.
Vi paused in front of the door, narrowing her eyes. "Here it is," she muttered, her voice dripping with skepticism.
You glanced up at the building, then at Vi. There was something in her expression, something that told you she wasn't exactly thrilled about this place. "It looks... shiny," you said, trying to lighten the mood.
Vi's lips curled in a small, almost dismissive smile. "Yeah, shiny's about it."
She led the way inside, the door creaking slightly as it swung open. The interior was everything the exterior promised—clean, organized, and modern. The space was filled with all sorts of high-tech gadgets and machines, some of which looked like they belonged in a lab, not a garage. There was a sleek, polished feel to the whole space, with pristine floors and bright lighting that almost felt too sterile for a mechanic shop.
The receptionist behind the counter barely looked up as Vi and you walked in, too busy typing something into her terminal to acknowledge your presence. The room smelled like fresh paint and new machinery, the exact opposite of the oily, worn-down scent that hung around Vi's shop.
Vi's lips pressed into a thin line as she surveyed the place. You noticed her eyes flick from one corner of the room to the other, her posture stiffening ever so slightly. She didn't say anything, but her expression said it all: she wasn't impressed.
"You know, this place is—" you started, but Vi cut you off.
"Yeah, I know," she said curtly, as she walked over to one of the displays that showcased a shiny new engine prototype. "It's all flash and no substance."
You raised an eyebrow. "How can you tell?"
Vi didn't turn to look at you, but you could hear the quiet disdain in her voice. "It's all surface-level. They've got the best-looking parts, sure, but no real soul. They haven't earned their reputation. Give me a garage full of real mechanics over this place any day."
You glanced around at the pristine surfaces and the polished machines, wondering if you could see the same things Vi did. She was already moving on, strolling past the displays with a look of quiet judgment on her face.
"So," you began, unsure of how to keep the conversation light, "what's wrong with all this new tech? Isn't it impressive?"
Vi scoffed, her voice lowering just enough for you to hear. "Impressive, sure, if you like gadgets that look good but fall apart after a few uses. Where's the craftsmanship? Where's the heart in these engines? No real mechanic would ever put their name on something like this."
You could hear the weight in her words. This wasn't just about the machines—it was about something deeper. Something personal.
"What do you mean by heart?" you asked, feeling a growing curiosity.
Vi paused in front of a display model, her hand running over the sleek surface of the engine. "I mean," she started slowly, her voice taking on a rare seriousness, "a real mechanic doesn't just slap together parts. They understand the soul of the machine. They know how every piece fits, why it's there. They put everything into it, because it's more than just fixing something. It's about making something work, making it last, putting your own touch on it. Something these guys," she gestured around the room, "wouldn't understand."
You stayed quiet, watching as Vi's expression softened just a little, her eyes flickering with something you couldn't quite place. Maybe it was pride. Maybe it was pain. Whatever it was, it made you see her in a different light. This wasn't just about a rivalry between shops. This was something she felt deeply—something that went beyond the surface.
You didn't know what to say. You had always thought of machines as just machines—tools to get the job done. But hearing Vi speak about them with such reverence made you realize there was more to it than that. It was clear now that for her, this was more than just a job. It was her life.
"I get it," you said softly, trying to bridge the gap between the two of you. "I never thought of it like that."
Vi didn't respond right away, but you saw her shoulders relax just a little. She nodded, as if she appreciated your understanding, and moved on to the next display. She was quiet for a few moments, but you could feel the weight of her thoughts.
Finally, after what felt like a long pause, Vi turned toward you. "Anyway, let's get outta here."
You both made your way back to the door, and when you stepped outside, the cool air of Zaun hit you like a wave. It felt like a different world out here, away from the pristine, polished interior of the new shop.
Vi took a deep breath, stretching her arms above her head as she stepped out into the street. "My shop is still better," she said, her tone light, but there was a hint of satisfaction in her voice.
You chuckled, feeling the tension break. "I think I'd agree with you on that one."
Vi shot you a glance, her eyes narrowing with a playful edge. "Damn right you would."
You both stood there for a moment, the weight of the day's conversation hanging in the air. There was something undeniable between you two now, something unspoken that had been growing ever since the first time you met.