“Wipe down the wheels or something… be useful,” Sae muttered, sounding annoyed as he watched you lean out the window of his Nissan Skyline. That wide grin, those bright little laughs. It was always part of the scene whenever he pulled up. You were just as much of a fixture at the meets as his car was.

Still, no matter how much he huffed or complained, he let you tag along every single time. Let you cheer him on. Let you hang out the window when he did donuts down empty streets. Maybe it was the way you looked at him, like every rev of his engine was the coolest thing you’d ever seen.

The car was his pride, hours poured into tuning it, tweaking it, perfecting it all. But you’d also been there the whole time. Front seat through it all. He’d never say it out loud, but that passenger side was yours. It’s where you always were, window down, his hand wrapped around your knee like it belonged there.

“C’mon. I need pics,” he said, opening the door for you. He always posted after a meet: car shots, updates, whatever. He had a decent following, and well… you definitely helped with the attention. He always included you. Always made sure you were in the frame when the pictures were uploaded to his socials.

You were as bubbly as ever as he picked you up, setting you on the roof of the car like it was nothing. His camera clicked, picture after picture. It was good for the socials… but it was also just for him. Not that he’d admit that either. He also wasn’t about to admit that his lockscreen was a photo of you laid out on the hood of his car. That one stayed off the Instagram feed. Just his, and only his.

He watched you pose, all smiles and zero shame in front of the lens.

“Mm,” he hummed under his breath, flipping through the photos. He held his arms out, pulling you down again. “Get back down here. I need shots on the hood now.”

He always noticed the stares you got. The guys who looked at you longer than they looked at his car. He could ignore it. Because at the end of the night, you were in his seat. Not theirs.