The soft music filled the silence as the car rolled down the avenue. Rex sat in the back, slouched, his eyes drifting across the traffic outside. His thoughts were still ssy, he wasn’t really thinking about anything in particular, just half-dozing, and musing over the system’s new career system.
Then a glossy black Cherovolt glided past in the next lane, its polished body catching the sunlight. Seeing this he suddenly rembered. "Oh, right. My car."
He leaned forward slightly, his tone more curious than worried. "Victor, what happened to it? When will it be back?"
Victor, sitting in the passenger seat, glanced at him through the rearview. "It’s still in the shop. They’ll need ti. On the surface it looked fine, but inside..." His voice tightened, the words coming slower, heavier. "Half the parts were wrecked. The transmission, the suspension, even the fra took damage. All from that... stunt you decided to pull. You’re lucky the thing didn’t fold in on itself." His tone started out calm, but by the ti he finished, there was a little edge there, the kind he usually swallowed back.
The words carried weight, but more than that, there was sothing else laced in: accusation. Victor hadn’t let it go.
Rex leaned back, lips quirking. "You’re still mad I drove myself, huh?"
Victor’s voice softened, almost like he was forcing himself to keep it level. "Look, Rex. I’m your bodyguard. Technically, I don’t get to be mad at you. That’s not in the contract." He hesitated, the faintest sigh slipping out. "But as your friend... I’ve got to say this. You risked your life in a way you had no business doing. Yes, you saved that child, but that doesn’t change the fact you could’ve been killed. And for us—" his hands tightened around the wheel, knuckles showing pale against the leather, "—your safety is the priority. Always. That may not sound right to you, but for us it’s non-negotiable. Your life cos before so stranger’s. Always."
The car grew quiet after that. Victor’s words carried a kind of heavy finality that didn’t leave room for jokes.
Rex sat there, watching the blur of buildings through the tinted window, Victor’s words settling heavier than he expected. He wasn’t stupid—he knew Victor was right. These guys had thrown their lives into his shadow, tied their futures to his safety, and he’d just gone and pulled a stunt that could’ve ended everything in one wrong turn. The kid had lived, but if things had gone differently...
He thought back to that mont ... the screech of tires, the split second where the car had been just an extension of his own body. He hadn’t thought, hadn’t weighed risks, hadn’t considered anything at all. His body had moved before his mind could catch up, instincts clawing at him like fire under his skin.
And maybe... maybe if he had paused, just for a breath, the outco would’ve been different. The kid’s life would’ve been snuffed out right in front of him. And Rex couldn’t see himself living with that, knowing he’d done nothing.
He let out a slow exhale. "Victor... you’re not wrong. I get it. To you, my life is the priority. I won’t pretend I don’t understand that. But in that mont..." His gaze hardened, voice dropping low. "I didn’t have ti to think about right or wrong. My body just acted. Maybe if I’d stopped to think, I’d still be sitting here safe — but that kid would be gone. And I don’t think I could accept that. Standing there, doing nothing, watching it happen? No. I’d rather take the risk."
Victor’s grip on the wheel tightened, but he said nothing.
"Humans are weird like that," Rex went on, almost as if talking to himself now. "When it cos down to monts like these, there isn’t really a right or wrong answer. It’s just... choice. What you can live with afterward. I made mine."
He dragged in a slow breath, the corner of his mouth twitching in sothing that wasn’t quite a smile. But you’re right too. I can’t pretend like it doesn’t matter to you guys when I go off and do sothing reckless. I’ll be careful next ti. Really."
For a mont, the weight of sincerity hung between them, unusual enough that Victor actually glanced at him through the rearview mirror. Rex caught it, then let out a short huff, forcing the tension to ease.
That earnest loyalty of Victor’s, frustrating and steady, almost made him feel guilty. Almost.
He leaned back in his seat, stretching lazily before letting out a low chuckle. "And we got this free car out of it, so technically... I’d say we ca out ahead."
Victor’s shoulders slumped just a little, like he wanted to reply to him him but couldn’t quite make out the words. In the end he didn’t say anything. His silence carried a mix of relief and lingering frustration, but at least the air in the car no longer felt so heavy.
Kaelan, still driving circles around the block, stifled a laugh under his breath. He knew Rex well enough to see what he was doing, dragging the mood back from the edge of seriousness and throwing it sowhere lighter, even if only halfway believable.
The silence stretched, filled only by the rhythm of passing cars. Rex let his gaze drift out again. That’s when it caught him, the gleam of glass windows, a sleek display behind them, the proud shine of vehicles lined up like jewels. A car showroom.
"Stop here."
Kaelan glanced at Victor, hesitant, but pulled over without question. The car eased into the curb. Rex opened the door and stepped out, brushing off invisible dust from his sleeve. His expression had shifted ... lighter, almost amused, as if a thought had just crystallized in his mind.
He looked at the showroom and smirked.
"What’s the point of making money if it just rots in so account?" he said, mostly to himself, but loud enough for the others to hear. "Money’s ant to be spent. That’s when it shows its value."
He walked toward the entrance without waiting for a reply.
He already had money. Not fortune-on-the-cover-of-magazines kind of money, but more than enough to stop living like so broke student scraping by. And what was he doing with it? Letting it sit. Gathering dust in an account. Like he was waiting for so invisible permission to actually enjoy it.
But money wasn’t ant to sit still. Money was only valuable when it moved, when it flowed, when it bought you sothing. Otherwise, it was just numbers on a screen.
He leaned his head back and exhaled through his nose. Truth was, he’d been holding himself back this whole ti — too careful, too concerned about looking normal, about not standing out. But that illusion had cracked the mont he went to that party.
(End of Chapter)
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