This was a feeling you could never get enough of.

Engines roared like thunder across the track, vibrations buzzing beneath your feet as you stood in the pit lane. The air smelled like burning rubber and gasoline—your pulse racing to match the energy in the atmosphere.

“Looks like someone's nervous.” That voice—smug, sharp, and unmistakable—cut through the background noise like a sharp knife. You didn’t even need to turn around to know Jinx was the one standing there, arms crossed and pressed against her chest like usual, that annoying smirk plastered across her face.