I had always been an 'outfit crisis' kind of girl. My dad liked to reference my eighth birthday party (mermaid themed, of course) as a prime example of this - where I hysterically cried about my planned outfit of a sequin dress I just had to have from Justice, changed into a bedazzled shirt and jeans, cried about that too, put the dress back on, then decided to show up to my own birthday party in tie-dye sweats and a t-shirt.

Typical.

Luckily for most of my young adult into my 20s, my day to day outfits consisted mostly of bathing suits and beachwear. I had certain sponsored apparel I had to wear, and the rest was easy.

But dressing for my first appearance not as Sav Allen, but as girl with Atlas Vaughn, felt more nerve wracking than a finals appearance at Trestles at this point. I knew ocean, I knew waves. I still did not know jet engine screaming, burning rubber race track. Which was why the floor of my hotel room was now littered with every single article of clothing I packed, down to my socks and thongs.

"I don't even remember packing half of this shit," I grumbled to Gemma, who was currently staring at the hotel room ceiling via FaceTime as I picked through a few shirts on my bed. With the time difference, for once it was early morning for her and near nighttime for me, but I knew she'd be up getting ready for her regular morning run.

"I'm certain that whatever you pick will be very you," Gemma replied through the phone, and I glanced over at the screen to see her casually flick her wrist to the side the way she always did. Gemma wouldn't even need to speak and I'd still know what she was trying to say on hand gestures alone.

"Why is this so nerve-wracking?" I groaned, sweeping back locks of hair that had unfurled themselves from my messy bun.

"It's not," Gemma replied casually. "As long as you accept the premise that you're going to become a paddock fashion supernova."

Being a so-called fashion supernova was not exactly casual.

"Well, what do you normally wear?" I asked after tossing another dress to the side.

"Whatever I want."

I stood up straight, my phone still face up on the bed, and surveyed the absolute cyclone of clothes I'd greeted. "So, you're telling me I should just dress like...me?"

"Precisely," came her quick response.

I reached for a pastel-colored crocheted top that I'd found at a market in San Diego. It was cropped, but had bell sleeves and tied just above my belly button. "What about this?" I grabbed my new white Nike Airforce 1s (that I felt like I had to have after Atlas had sported them the whole weekend we were in Monaco together). "And these?"

"Ideal. Now I'll have no problem locating you in any Porsche garage shots."

I dropped the sneakers on the floor with a much louder thud than I intended and grabbed my phone. "The what now?"

"Never mind." Gemma shook her blonde head of hair. "Just be your usual radiant self, and enjoy the view."

I smirked at her. "What would I do without you?"

"You're about to find out," Gemma smized, then put me down on her bed as she slipped on her Brooks.

"How difficult would it be for me to track Cal down in the paddock?" I asked her.

I was still staring at her ceiling, but her tone was a mixture of warning and amused. "What are you planning?"

I shrugged. "I think he and I should devise a secret handshake. Or some kind of bat signal."

Callahan and I have planned nothing of the sort, but I wouldn't put it past us.

"Christ." She sighed. "Well I look forward to seeing that play out next time we're all together."

Atlas had mentioned some FIA fundraiser gala adjacent thing in Paris in passing a few weeks ago, that I now realized was quickly approaching. "Which I guess will be in Paris."

"Yes." Gemma confirmed with a nod. "Please send final outfit pics. Au revoir!"

She hung up, and I pulled on a pair of distressed boyfriend jeans to complete my outfit. The irony wasn't lost on me as I'd spent the entire morning contemplating my relationship status. Was Atlas my boyfriend now? I was, after all, showing up at the grand prix beside him.

Speak of the Alpha, and he doth appear.

ATLAS VAUGHN 🖤: On the hop, beauty queen. Time to go.

I smiled and sucked in one last breath like it would be my last before grabbing my new Louis Vuitton mini backpack I'd rewarded myself with after winning Bells, finally replacing my old, battered LV Speedy. I made sure the hotel room door was locked at least three times before bolting to the elevator, suddenly very glad I ended up wearing sneakers.

When the elevator doors slid open with a ding, Atlas was already standing there with his sunglasses on, hands jammed into the pockets of his jeans and his Porsche Racing shirt tight across his shoulders as he casually leaned against the side of the elevator. He looked up at me from his phone, and the smize he gave me set me on fire. I truly wondered if I'd ever get used to seeing him, or if every time he looked at me like that it would feel like I'm ripping through the atmosphere all over again.

"Good afternoon," I greeted him with a nod, comically monotone as the elevator doors slid shut again. "Lovely day for some racing."

He smirked and silently pulled me over and draped his arm over my shoulders, pressing a reassuring kiss to my forehead even though I hadn't vocalized how nervous I was. He just knew.

When we exited the hotel, there were already fans waiting outside. His fans. I instinctively ducked my head down, as if that would miraculously give me cover from the fact that people were marveling and staring at the fact that Atlas Vaughn was not alone. As I expected him to, he pretended nobody was there as he ushered us to the black Mercedes truck waiting for us. I couldn't hold back the audible sigh of relief as we dropped into the buttery leather backseats.

"You okay?" Atlas reached over and put his hand on mine, both resting in the middle seat.

I shifted my backpack on my lap and settled further back into the seat. "Yeah. Wasn't that bad."

"You'll get used to it."

Getting used to it meant this was a thing that would continue to happen long-term, and the words bubbled up in my throat before I could stop them.

"So, I had a shower thought this morning." I tucked my leg underneath me and turned my body in the seat to face him.

"Was it something along the lines of how you wished I was in there with you?" He arched a suggestive eyebrow at me behind the lenses of his black Clubmasters. "Because that was definitely my shower thought this morning."

I gave him a playful smack on his forearm. "No. I mean yes, but no. Not this particular thought. I was just thinking..." I gestured out the window back towards the hotel. "People will be seeing us together, taking pictures of us together...there's definitely a possibility that I am referred to as your girlfriend. Are you...are you okay with that?"

Atlas took a moment to mull over the question, slightly dragging his teeth along his bottom lip. "If you are, I am."

"I am," I confirmed with a nod.

"Just remember, you're with me. The moment we enter the grand prix, no one fucks with me. That means nobody is going to fuck with you either. I won't allow it."

I gave his hand a squeeze, and he allowed a faint smile to crack his features. The closer we got to the track, the more I paid attention to how he slowly transformed into Alpha Atlas, like a werewolf who willingly wandered out under the full moon, only much more subtle and refined...and maybe less howling. He kept his breath steady and his expression stoic. And this wasn't even the race - this was just qualifying.

We pulled into a parking lot by the same VIP access gate as last night, this time making a hard right into the alleyway where all of the team headquarters and trailers were stationed, and now there was a sea of people we had to maneuver through in an array of different colored team shirts like a rainbow of race engineers. I kept my eyes out for Callahan, who I caught speaking to a Ferrari crew member in front of his trailer. When he saw us, he lifted a hand to wave, and I beamed and waved back eagerly. Atlas gave him a curt but cordial nod before we made it to the Porsche section, and I finally felt like I could exhale. I expected to feel a little anxious about it all, but the little rush of adrenaline I got from just being where I was had me smiling without even realizing it.

Sometimes I wished I was a comet. I wanted to soar through the air while people marveled at me. It was all any of us could have wanted - be the kind of person, athlete, champion, that made people look. Now that people were looking at me, I realized it wasn't something I wanted to do alone, so I allowed Atlas Vaughn and all his otherworldly gravity to pull me down to land, perfectly fine with burning up in his atmosphere.

I'd tried my best to stay out of the way as Atlas prepped for qualifying, mostly because I knew I always wanted people to stay out of my way when I prepped for an event. He had everything he needed in his little trailer, including a couch for me to sit on while he got dressed, did some reflex testing, and spoke to Ronnie in what sounded like another language while they went over some technical things for qualifying.

I liked Ronnie. He kept the Alpha in check as brutally and comically as possible in his thick cockney accent, and I finally understood why Atlas was so fond of him. How could anyone not be?

"Oi, you make sure he finishes that before he comes out to the garage." Ronnie said to me, pointing to Atlas's 32 ounce water bottle.

"Don't worry, I'm on it." I grinned up at him. He gave me a high-five before exiting, leaving Atlas and I alone for the first time in what felt like hours. I didn't mind, but I think he did.

Atlas huffed out a breath as he zipped up the front of his racing overalls. His kit was all-black for this race, including his undershirt, save for his bright yellow boots, emblazoned with a big red #1 on the sides. I watched him as he fiddled with the cuffs of his sleeves and the little flap at his neck that covered the zipper of his overalls.

"You doing okay?" I asked him.

"I think so," he replied softly, finally glancing over at me and allowing that stoicness he'd been wearing all day to slip off just a little. "Thanks for asking."

I twirled a lock of hair around my finger. "I know it sounds kind of simple, but just...remind yourself to breathe. I've been taught that everything comes back to your breath, and it's really important to exhale first to get all the bad out before you inhale."

Altas smirked, then leaned down and cupped my face with his hands, planting a long, sensual kiss to my lips. Damn qualifying for starting soon, because if we'd kissed any longer I was sure I'd try and have him right then and there. I think he felt the same as he pulled away, but kept his forehead pressed against mine.

"You're fucking brilliant, you know that?" He said. "Not that breathing techniques are so groundbreaking but just...for even saying it at all. I love that you care."

"Alright, well in keeping up with caring..." I shook Atlas's water bottle before taking a sip. "You gotta finish this. I can't finish it for you, I'm trying to stay on Ronnie's good side, and you should stay hydrated anyway."

Atlas rolled his eyes and took the bottle from me, sucking down a good amount of water before putting it on the table beside him.

"So, when should I go up to my seat?" I asked as I stood up from the couch, painfully aware of how oblivious I still was of certain things. "And also like...how do I get there from here? It's like a mini city out there." I added a chuckle for good measure.

Atlas rummaged around in his backpack for something. "You're in the garage this weekend."

It was said far too casually, and maybe that was really what threw me for a loop.

"Wait, what?" My jaw dropped. "What do you mean the garage? Like, your garage? Where the car goes?"

And suddenly Gemma's offhand Porsche garage shot comment made way more sense. That sneaky minx, as always.

Atlas nodded, still freakishly calm despite the fact that my heart just shot up into my throat. "Don't worry, Mum will be there, she'll take care of you."

And that was the spark that lit the fuse. I groaned and put my hands to my face. "Your mom? Atlas, why didn't you tell me any of this before? It's a lot of pressure sitting in the garage as it is, and now you're telling me I'm going to be with her the whole time? I like your mom a lot Atlas, but I've only met her once, and if you recall, I didn't have pants on."

Atlas gave me a one-shoulder shrug. "Didn't think it was that big of a deal. She likes you a lot too, you know. And honestly...I think she'd really love your company, which is why I arranged you to be in the garage this weekend. It's normally...well, it's mostly just for family. She's usually alone in there."

I unraveled just a bit at the softness of his voice, and I cracked a smile. "Well then this weekend she won't be."

Atlas needed to finish getting ready, so I left the trailer and was ushered along through the back entrance of the garage by a few crew members in black Porsche collared shirts.

"Hey, I know you!"

Jaye beamed at me as we crossed paths in the garage. He leaned in for a quick hug before I finished processing that it was in fact Jaye in the same racing overalls as Atlas, since the last time I'd seen him, he was sporting floral printed pants and light up plastic glasses.

"You do in fact know me," I said with a chuckle, pulling the hair out of my mouth that had got caught in my lipgloss in our sideways hug, thankful that we were back in a corner away from eyes and cameras.

"And I knew I'd see you again," he kept beaming. "Your boyfriend looks like he's primed for pole today."

Boyfriend. That was the first time someone else had called Atlas that to my face, instead of just me in the shower trying to talk myself into the normalcy of it, and it felt...more comfortable than I expected it to.

Jaye continued on with his qualifying prep, and a rush of noise and heat hit me as I entered Atlas's garage proper. There were screens and computers lining the left hand wall with all kinds of graphs and data that no normal person could comprehend. Stacks of tyres lined the other wall, all wrapped up with VAUGHN name printed on them in that same bright yellow that accented all of the black and red of the Porsche gear. His car was off, but all kinds of things whirred and beeped as mechanics messed with the car. I'd never been so close to it, and it was so much bigger than I realized. It made him sitting in it going 200 MPH that much more nerve-wracking.

Sophia was leaning against a big white countertop against the back of the garage with a view of everything, a big black headset hanging around her neck that somehow effortlessly matched her black and white monochrome power suit. She would wear a power suit. There was a TV mounted up on a wall close to the counter so we could see what was actually going on in the television program instead of trying to catch bits and pieces of information through all the chaos.

"Oh, ma cherie!" Sophia greeted as she spotted me, quickly giving each cheek a kiss. "You look lovely!"

"Thank you, you too." I smiled at her, subconsciously pulling at the sleeves of my crochet top. It was definitely a little louder and a little more Cali than her effortless, prim chic look.

"I'm so happy you're here, I never have anyone to grab onto when Atlas gets in the car."

She looped her arm around mine, and I was sure my racing heart would have slowed at the calming gesture if it weren't for the fact that Atlas had walked into the garage, and the Alpha had fully transformed. He met Ronnie by the car, putting his earpieces in as he gestured to something towards the front of the car. They chatted with their heads close together, Atlas's brows furrowed up as he hung onto Ronnie's words.

Before pulling his helmet on, he blew his mother a quick kiss, and then glanced to me and gave me a wink. He never winked.

"He really is great, isn't he?" Sophia said, and at first I thought she was really saying it more to herself, but when she looked down at me expectantly, I smiled.

"Yeah, he is."

As they got through the first two qualifying sessions, I caught glimpses of the sky outside turning deep shades of orange as night descended upon the track. Atlas and Jaye had both made it into Q3, and they were still in their cars, being brought handheld tablets of data and anything else they needed. Each session was only 15 minutes, and as the clock began its countdown, both cars stayed stationary up on their jacks in the garage, but I hadn't seen any other cars pass by through the pit lane either.

A few minutes went by without anyone getting onto the track, but in a split second both Porsche cars were off of their jacks and out into the pit lane, and several other cars followed suit. I felt Sophia reach over for my hand with her gaze still trained up at the timing screen, and after a moment, I realized she wanted me to squeeze back, and I did.

As Atlas was the first to start his flying lap, all of his sectors came in purple, meaning it was the current best on track. But as other cars began clocking in times, Atlas kept his purple sectors, meaning nobody had caught him yet. Callahan's Ferrari wasn't far behind, and at the moment, it looked like he and Callahan would be on the front row of the grid tomorrow. Jaye had put in a few flying laps but couldn't get himself up past P4, and both Mercedes and Katin were flip-flopping around between P5 and P7.

Atlas took two cool-down laps after his purple-sector flying lap to recharge the batteries and keep heat in his tyres, and just as the session was ticking down 0:00, he, Cal, and Adrian fucking Olsen managed to cross the line to get in one more flying lap in.

"Why would he go again if he's got provisional pole?" I leaned over and whispered to Sophia.

"It's far too close at the top," she responded. "And they're all trading purple sectors like football player cards."

I chuckled at her comparison and glanced up at the timing screen.

VAU: 1:35.210

JAN: +0.146

OLS: +0.182

Within mere tenths of seconds between them. I saw Atlas's black Porsche thunder by the start finish line across the pit lane, then shortly after the brilliant siren red of Cal's Ferrari. Their times stayed the same, and the pit crew and mechanics all started to celebrate Atlas's pole. Sophia had removed her headset and let it hang around her neck, her dark hair still perfect. I was about to remove mine as well when above the commotion in the garage, I heard that same British-accented announcer came through the headset.

"But wait! Olsen has found time in sector 2 and jumps Vaughn for pole! What a turn of events here in Singapore!"

Adrian's name slotted itself above Atlas's on the timing screen, and the entire garage fell silent. I glanced over at Sophia, who had her perfectly manicured hands pressed to her mouth.

"Vaughn and Porsche had a dream lap for provisional pole and now have to look and see where and how Olsen found speed to try and combat that tomorrow. It's always something for Vaughn at this track; he must be absolutely gutted."

It's always something. That's what Atlas had said when we were at his father's memorial plaque.

Sophia led me out of the garage where they were conducting post-qualifying interviews with the top three the way they normally did. There was a chill in the air as night had fully descended on the track, and by the time we reached them, Atlas was wrapping up his interview.

"Absolutely nothing changes about tomorrow," there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, running a hand through his sweat-slicked hair. There must have been a full moon tonight. He wasn't exactly looking for me, but when our gazes met as I slipped my way through to the barrier, something in his eyes softened, and I offered him a smile.

"I think I'll be just fine."

stop everyone, stop everyone coming inside
watch out, this is the first time i'm feeling alive

voyager / angels & airwaves

after over a month hiatus, this one felt GOOD to get out, and god damn it i missed my best babies!! (& gem and cal)

i haven't watched taron's new show yet bc i was waiting for all the episodes to drop so i can binge but the CONTENT he has been giving us is so atlas, it's just been continuously reaffirming how perfect he is for him. and taron is genuinely the sweetest, funniest, most unproblematic person out there it's insane how highly people speak of him, not just as a person but as an actor. cannot wait to watch blackbird anyway my fangirling is done, pls enjoy new gifs of our man.

anyway, as always we've been blessed with gemma content by my partner in crime w1ldflow3r & the next time y'all see gemma and cal (outside of these singapore chapters) it will have been written together IN PERSON WHEN I GO VISIT HER so get hype for that, the real life samma content is happening.