Drive me Wild, Rival(BL)

Chapter 129: Seo Jun sent flowers

Alaric

​I could barely sleep, let out a proper breath, or even think straight after we arrived at the Suzuka Circuit Hotel.

The intense pressure of the weekend was supposed to lock my mind into pure driver mode, but instead, I was completely out of it. Even during the grueling team strategy meetings, even after I pushed the car to its absolute limit and secured P1 in qualifying for the very first time since this chaotic season started, I was still totally distracted.

​Online, everyone was losing their minds. The entire internet was blowing up with congratulations about me beating Nico and snatching pole position right out from under his nose for the first time.

But none of it mattered.

When the morning of the actual Japan Grand Prix finally arrived, I woke up completely on the wrong side of the bed, my muscles tense and my mood entirely foul.

​I sat on a small bench in the back of the garage, mechanically scrolling through my phone while my lead engineer and mechanics worked on the car’s setup, the sharp whir of pneumatic tools echoing around us.

​"Alaric, seriously, the media metrics are absolutely insane right now," my manager, Dorothy, said, hovering near my shoulder with her tablet in hand. She was practically beaming, reading off the screen with an excited bounce in her step. "Social media is completely praising you for taking P1 away from Nico. The fans are going Crazy over the time difference in Sector Three. I mean, look at these comments under the official F1 post."

​She held up the screen, and my eyes scanned the fast-moving feed.

​@ackerman_updates: ALARIC SECURED POLE AT SUZUKA!!! The king is finally back on top, Nico didn’t even see that sector three time coming!

​@racing_fanatic99: First P1 of the season for Alaric! Suzuka always brings out the best racing. Let’s see if he can actually hold off Nico at turn one though.

​@vane_motorsport: An absolute masterclass lap from Ackerman. Blew the entire grid away.

​"Sure, there are a few negative comments from his hardcore stans calling it a fluke," Dorothy continued, scrolling down to show the inevitable backlash.

​@nico_stan_forever: Alaric only got P1 because Nico had traffic in sector two. Enjoy it while it lasts, De villier is getting smoked by lap five.

​@grid_drama: Pure luck. Nico’s race pace is completely superior anyway. Pole means nothing if you can’t defend.

​"But the overall reception is massive for the team," Dorothy finished, pulling the tablet back.

​I barely heard a single word she said. My thumb had frozen on my own screen, the display showing a split-screen promotional graphic from a sports campaign we had shot together earlier in the season. It was an image of Nico and me, standing side by side in our respective racing suits, staring dead into the camera with intense expressions.

​I frowned deeply at first, my eyes tracing the sharp lines of his jawline in the photo. Then, without warning, that familiar, heavy pounding started up in my chest yet again, my heart violently hammering against my ribs as his voice echoed in my ears.

Yes, Mom. I am in love with him.

​I let out a long, ragged sigh, abruptly shutting off the screen and tossing the phone straight into Dorothy’s hands. "Take this," I muttered, rubbing the back of my neck as I stood up. "I need to excuse myself for a few minutes just to catch my breath before the pre-race briefing."

​"Oh—alright, Ric. Don’t wander too far, the media pen opens soon!" she called out behind me.

​I nodded over my shoulder and walked out into the semi-quiet corridor behind our hospitality building.

The humid morning air hit my face, but it did absolutely nothing to cool down the crazy thoughts spinning through my head.

As I walked past the stacked tire blankets, a tall figure suddenly stepped out from around a corner, waving a gloved hand at me.

​It was my Dami.

​"Hey, Alaric," Dami said, slowing his pace as he scanned my rigid posture with a questioning look. "You’ve been acting incredibly strange all morning, man. Are you actually fine? You look like you’re about to punch a hole through the garage wall, and you’re the one starting on the pole."

​"I’m fine, Dami," I responded quietly, offering him a tight, unconvincing nod. "Just focusing."

​"Right, if you say so," Dami chuckled, shaking his head before a wide, mischievous smirk broke across his face. He leaned closer, tilting his head back toward the entrance of the team’s private lounge area. "Anyway, you seriously have the craziest, most dramatic fans on the grid. Someone just came by the paddock gates and dropped off a massive delivery for you. Come look at this."

​I frowned, my brows furrowed in confusion as Dami led me inside the lounge, pointing toward a large, absolutely ridiculous bouquet of flowers resting on the center table. The arrangement was huge, packed with white blossoms that looked entirely out of place in a dirty, high-tech racing paddock.

​"Damn, that is a seriously crazy fan," Dami joked, crossing his arms as he admired the sheer size of the delivery. "They are probably completely obsessed with you. Though..." He paused, turning his head to give me a knowing, wicked wink. "I already know the great Alaric De villier is officially taken, so I guess they’re out of luck."

​My frown deepened, a sudden chill running down my spine. "What the hell are you talking about?"

​Dami chuckled softly, stepping closer to whisper right next to my ear. "Come on, Alaric. I know all about you and Nico. I’ve seen the way you two look at each other when the cameras are off. Don’t worry, man," he added, tapping my shoulder gently with a reassuring grin. "I won’t let Nico know that I know and I’ll keep your little secret safe. Good luck out there."

​Before I could even process the absolute shock of his words or snap back at him, Dami laughed and walked straight out of the lounge, leaving me completely alone with the delivery.

​I cursed silently under my breath, my heart rate spiking as I stepped closer to the flowers.

My eyes instantly locked onto a small, elegant card tucked right into the center of the white petals. Written across the paper in sharp, flawless Korean script were words that made my stomach do a violent flip.

​Good luck, my princess. I hope you win against me this time.

​My jaw clenched hard, a dark flush creeping up my neck. Princess? I frowned deeply, irritation and a strange, breathless warmth hitting me all at once. I didn’t even need to guess. I already knew with absolute certainty that this was from Nico.

The bastard was intentionally messing with my head right before we climbed into the cockpits, completely dominating my thoughts when I was supposed to be focusing on defending my position.

​I turned around to walk away, determined to ignore his stupid games, but something small and white caught my attention from the base of the stems. It was a secondary, sealed envelope tucked beneath the ribbon.

​I frowned yet again, my hand moving on its own accord as I reached out and pulled the paper free.

My heart started pounding wildly against my ribs, the sound deafening in the quiet room as I ripped the seal open and unfolded the neat parchment inside.

​Nico’s distinct handwriting filled the page, the lines short, arrogant, and entirely infuriating.

​Bet time, Alaric.

​You managed to take P1 from me yesterday, Alaric. Let’s make things interesting today. We have a bet now. If you actually manage to win this race and keep that position against me, you owe me a prize. Or rather, I owe you one. Win today, and you can ask me absolutely anything you want, and I’ll do it. No exceptions.

​My eyes scanned down to the very last line of the letter, and my breath completely caught in my throat.

​— Seo-jun.

​I stared blankly at the paper, my fingers trembling slightly against the edges.

Seo-jun. He had signed it with the Korean name his mother used—the exact name he had taunted me with on the express train from Osaka. He was handing me the answer on a silver platter, linking himself directly to the past he claimed I had forgotten, all while dangling a dangerous wager right in front of my face.

​Ask me anything, and I’ll do it.

​Did that include the truth? If I won today, could I force him to finally look me in the eye and admit what he had whispered against my chest in the dark?

​I frowned deeply at the letter, a chaotic mixture of adrenaline, frustration, and pure determination roaring through my veins.

I aggressively rubbed my hand through my hair, trying to clear the fog in my brain as I folded the paper tightly, shoving it deep into the pocket of my team trousers.

I couldn’t think straight here and also I had to find out if I had any memory of him and the only person to provide me answers was him.

Harold.

​Turning on my heel, I marched straight out of the lounge and headed directly toward the quiet bathroom down the corridor where I can be alone.