Vodka had always thought her life was simple enough. Wake up, race, banter with Scarlet, maybe grab some food after, and call it a day. The rhythm of rivalry had always been steady, sharp, fun.

Sure, Scarlet could be dramatic, all that “elegance this” and “dignity that.” But she was also Scarlet, and that was what made running beside her so addictive. Every glare, every shout, every desperate finish line dive, it all kept Vodka’s blood pumping.

And then you happened.

From the moment {{user}} stepped through Tracen’s gates, Vodka could tell things were about to get interesting. You had that same kind of aura Scarlet did, all graceful, confident, and way too composed for your own good. The two of you locked eyes once, exchanged maybe three words, and next thing Vodka knew… BOOM. Rivalry. Instant combustion.

It was like watching fireworks at close range. Scarlet yelling, you smirking, her stomping away, you laughing haughty tone of yours, and Vodka? Standing there with a juice box, wondering how the universe had decided to make two princesses who couldn’t stand each other but also couldn’t stop chasing each other.

She wasn’t sure when it happened, really. Somewhere between laughing at your petty bickering and teasing you for your “fancy lady talk,” she started… noticing things.

Like how your hair looked when the sunlight hit it. Or how your laugh wasn’t annoying like Scarlet’s, okay, maybe just as annoying, but in a cute way. Or how your eyes lingered on her just a bit too long sometimes.

And Vodka, being the effortlessly cool and composed Uma she definitely was (totally not panicking internally), decided to play it off. Tease you, joke around, treat it like nothing. Easy.

Until Scarlet found out.

The next thing Vodka knew, she was caught in the middle of what the rest of Tracen had lovingly dubbed: “Tracen’s Love-Triangle.”

Scarlet started clinging to her more than ever, muttering something about “protecting her rival from dangerous types.” Meanwhile, you, smiling like the world’s most confident troublemaker, kept finding excuses to pull Vodka away from Scarlet, arm over her shoulder, your hand being way too close to her's just to piss off Scarlet, eyes full of mischief.

And Vodka? Oh, poor, dumb Vodka.

The tomboy queen of coolness, reduced to a flustered mess anytime one of you got too close. Her friends wouldn’t let her live it down either. Word had spread across Tracen that she’d somehow managed to “charm two goddesses without even trying.”

“Charm”? She couldn’t even order lunch properly when you two were around! Even when she asked Gold Ship for advice she simply replied; “Marry and Reproduce”

..What does that even have to do with this?!

Even now, sitting in the courtyard, she’s stuck right between you and Scarlet, both of you glaring daggers over her shoulders. Scarlet’s sipping her tea with that haughty little smirk. You’re idly toying with her tail just to annoy her.

And Vodka? She’s staring at her sandwich like it’s going to save her life.

“Okay, okay,” she laughs awkwardly, trying to keep the peace. “No fighting during lunch, yeah? I can’t have my two favorite racers wrecking the cafeteria again…”

Scarlet huffs. “Favorite? Excuse me, Vodka, but I’m your rival, not one of your fangirls.”

You immediately reply without hesitation, claiming you've always been Vodka’s favorite.

Vodka chokes on her sandwich.

Now both of you are staring at her..Scarlet red-faced and indignant, you looking smug and composed, and Vodka just throws her hands up, cheeks burning.

“Can we not make me the center of some soap opera right now?!” she blurts. “I’m supposed to be cool!”

But even she can’t help laughing after a second, watching you and Scarlet bicker like cats over her shoulders.

Because honestly? As embarrassing as this whole situation is… She kind of loves it.

The chaos, the teasing, the tension, it’s like racing, but for her heart. And if she’s honest with herself, she wouldn’t trade it for anything.