"Smile." Laya whispers through her teeth, her arm looping through Noir's as the cameras explode in flashes.

Noir's jaw just tightens. He stares straight into a lens like he's ready to fight it.

"Look less miserable-"

"Shut up. I look fine."

He brushes past her and heads inside. Even though the entrance is packed, the crowd naturally parts for him - a ripple of tension flowing with every step. Both Athletes and sponsors whisper as they move through.

"You look fine," laya says, heels clicking beside him, "but you also look like you'll go ape-shit on anyone who dare breathes near you." Her hand slides up the back of his neck, soft and practiced.

"Do you need a neck rub?" She coos.

Noir shoots her a death clare. "Watch it. And don't touch me." This isn't great for the already existing dating rumors.

"I'm just trying to calm you is all. You think I want to be stuck with you all night when you're acting like this?" She rolls her eyes.

"Then go bother someone else." Noir scans the room, unimpressed. The same faces, same circles - the same suffocating noise.

A heavy sigh leaves his lips when his eyes land on Maksim, his expression lightly souring. "Right. Forgot he'd be here." His tone drops, colder.

But what catches him off guard -

"Did Maksim bring a date?" Laya takes the words right out of his mouth. "He's cute."

Noir's eyes lock onto the man beside Maksim - nervously fixing his tie, shoulders drawn in, clearly overwhelmed. Noir freezes. A warmth - too sudden, too sharp - rushes into his lungs and sticks there.

Something inside him stutters.

"What's with the look?" Laya asks, catching it instantly. "Everything okay?"

He doesn't answer. His stays locked on the man, fists clenching, heart hammering hard enough to hurt.

And then the man looks up.

Their eyes meet.

For a split second, Noir freezes - vulnerability written so clearly across his face it's almost painful. He forces himself to look away, jaw tightening, breath harsh.

Laya steps a little closer, voice low, steady but tense. "Noir." her voice sounds like static in Noir's ears.

"Noir." She says again, tone a bit sharper this time - enough to snap him back into reality. "What was that-"

"That's not his date." He grits out.

Laya blinks at the sudden bite in his voice. "You sound awfully sure of yourself. Have you met him?"

Noir's gaze cuts back to the man - lingering, intense, which makes the poor guy visibly shift under his stare, cheeks tinting a faint pink.

"No." Noir finally answers, tearing his eyes away before he suddenly charges forward.

"Wha- Noir!" Laya gasps, scrambling after him, fingers hooking into the back of his suit jacket. "What the hell are you doing-"

Her eyes harden when she doesn't get a response. "Noir, I swear to-" He stops abruptly, causing her to slam lightly into his back, annoyed - until she realizes who they've stopped in front of.

Her eyes slightly widen. "Mr. Volkov." She clears her throat, straightening her posture immediately.

"Ms. Reznik." Maksim replies under equal stiffness. It's obvious he's trying not to look down at her dress, desperately clinging to professionalism. "Your dress... is nice." he clears his throat.

Laya smirks. "You like it?" Then her voice drops into a slow, seductive hum. "Take a picture," she purrs, pressing her arms together to lift her cleavage. "it'll last longer."

Normally, Noir would make some snide comment about her behavior, but this time? He's silent, scarily silent - posture rigid, jaw clenched, eyes flicking only between Maksim... and Eunwoo.

Everyone feels it.

Maksim clears his throat. "Uhm... Noir, this is Eunwoo."

"Pleasure to meet you-" Eunwoo holds out his hand, giving a shy smile. "I was told you're incredible out on the track."

"Don't indulge him." Maksim mutters under his breath as he lifts his champagne to his lips.

Noir doesn't say anything back. Doesn't move. Just stares. Stares at Eunwoo.

It's small, hardly noticeable, but something flashes behind Noir's eyes - a glint of pain, shock. He exhales, barely, the breath trembling - subtle enough that only Laya notices.

She lightly taps his foot. "Noir." She whispers quietly, staring at him with a worried expression, but it doesn't seem to do anything, only making the tension in the air tighten and grow.

Eunwoo shifts. "I- sorry- you don't have to-" He says quickly, going to start pulling his hand away, feeling embarrassed.

Right then, Noir finally reaches out, his fingers ghosting against Eunwoo's - barely a touch but enough to burn.

His expression breaks for a moment. It wasn't cold, or angry, but rather, something raw.

Noir instantly rips his hand away, as if it were touched by a flame.

Eunwoo stares at him for a long moment before slowly putting his arm down, lips pursed and head ducked It's clear to see that he's humiliated.

"Noir." Maksim's tone sharpens. "Don't be rude."

"I'm not." Noir mutters, the words coming out as a slight growl.

"Yes, you are. I don't appreciate how you're treating my friend." Maksim lightly pats Eunwoo's back in reassurance, and Noir's eye flick to the touch - sharp, unreadable.

"Maksim, it's fine." Eunwoo's voice is quiet, barely audible. "Seriously, it's okay-"

"Your friend?" Noir finally tears his gaze away from Eunwoo and pins it on Maksim, a small smirk forming - but there's nothing friendly about it. "I assumed he was your boyfriend."

"Why does that matter?"

"So he's single."

Maksim goes rigid, grip tightening around his glass.

"Alright." Laya cuts in, looping her arm around Noir's neck and discretely digging her nails into his skin. "Time to go talk to some of our fellow racers, yeah? We'll see you two later," she bows her head slightly toward Eunwoo.

"It was nice meeting you, cutie."

Then she glances at Maksim, gives him a shy smile, and starts dragging Noir away, muttering something sharp and fast in Russian.

They watch the pair disappear into the crowd before Maksim curses under his breath and slams his glass down onto the bar. "Another one, please," He calls to the bartender, then he turns, softer. "You okay?"

"Oh. Yeah, I'm okay." Eunwoo stares at his drink, tracing the divots in the crystal with his fingertips. He really is okay. He's just... confused. What was that reaction?

"Is he always like that?" He asks.

"I've never seen him act like that," Maksim admits. "But it's nothing out of the ordinary." His jaw clenches; clearly the situation still sits wrong with him. "I told you I don't like him. And it's clear he doesn't like me either."

Eunwoo just hums, watching the bartender mixes another drink. "Maybe I just made him uncomfortable." He murmurs.

Maksim blinks. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not exactly his usual crowd. He might not like that I'm visibly...you know..."

Maksim slams his hand on the table, making Eunwoo flinch.

"Maksim?"

"If that's the reason, I'll beat him to a pulp." He grins - a bit too wide, a bit too unhinged - before straightening up and adjusting his tie as if nothing happened. "Let's just forget about it. Drink with me."

Two glasses slide across the counter, Eunwoo thanking the bartender quietly.

"So... are we going to talk about about Laya then?" He asks.

Maksim's ears burn red immediately. He exhales hard, clearly flustered. Eunwoo laughs at that, taking a large sip of his drink.

-

Laya drags Noir outside into a secluded balcony, eyes sharp. "What the fuck was that?" Her tone is venomous, arms crossed tight over her chest.. "Are you asking for a fight? HUH?!"

Noir just stands there - head ducked, knuckles clenched. He doesn't say a word.

And that only pisses Laya off more.

"Tell me what's going on. Right now. You shouldn't have treated Eunwoo so harshly. You've never even met the guy and he seems so sweet! I mean, god- what happened to first impressions-"

"Don't say his name."

Laya stops. Her eyebrow arches. "What? Eunwoo?"

"Please." He mumbles, voice so quiet that it almost got swept away with the wind. Laya stares at him for a long moment before taking a step forward, grabbing his hand.

"Noir," she says softly. "Please talk to me."

Silence. Another long, heavy moment passes before he grits out, "I'm sorry." He really is - he just can't express it the way he needs to. "I just- I-"

He stammers, swallowed by something he can't control, and slowly sinks to the floor, back hitting the wall. Small, shaky breaths leave his lips, and no matter how hard he tries, his hands won't stop trembling.

His throat tightens. It's hard to breath.

"Hey," Laya murmurs, her voice softening as she crouches in front of him. Compared to some of the moments she's handled before, this is nothing. "Breathe with me."

She laced her fingers with his, giving his hand a firm, grounding squeeze.

"In 1....2....3...." She breathes in slowly. "Out 1....2...3."

His chest eventually rises and falls with hers, breaths syncing. She smiles gently, brushing a few strands of hair away from his eyes.

"Very good."

For a moment, she just looks at him - really looks at him. Then her expression softens even more.

"It's him, isn't it."