☆ open starter 🛞 uncapped
☆ outside sometime around 7PM near the stage, a throne for the lady most fair
it was taunting him. that stupid fucking car that everyone was fawning over, fingers crossed their name would be pulled as the lucky winner of its title, was taunting him. the very car that symbolized the beginning of his descent— the loss of his first home and perhaps even his innocence. looking at it now, he can see his father before him. hear him too. a finger pointed in his face, voice loud and pounding in his ears as he goes on and on about his son's failures. it was poetic almost to see it all made up with modern modifications. sanghoon would hate it, or at least harvey thinks he would. it's not like he ever really knew him anyway.
his attention is pulled away from glittering metal as someone approaches in his peripheral. assuming them to be yet another scummy car guy looking to rip his supra off him, low voice comes out monotone and uninterested, ❛ i'm not selling. ❜
to june, bobbing around the maze of candy-colored cars confetti-ing the lot of the auto show is a lot like how she imagines heaven will be. already, her mind is buzzing with inspiration, a chatterbox of mod ideas she's sure she can convince someone a little more mechanically skilled to help her pull off. she's a kid in a candy-store, half-drunk on stimulation, the miami sun making the colors seem all that much brighter.
her sights aren't on the fairlady, not really; she likes her car. it handles like a dream, especially in a drift, lightweight and clean. of course, if another car came her way, who would she be to say no? be it cars, dating, or dessert, june's motto prevails: what's one more? so she stops by to look, just to look. and of course the paint shimmers just right, the sun glints off the rims just right, and all of the sudden she's falling in love...
then she sees harvey, and he's smoldering at the fairlady like it's been something less than fair to him. and she won't pry, it's not her style, but that doesn't mean she can't go catch a vibe.
as she sidles up, his voice cuts flat through the bubble of her good mood. she's grinning like it's funny, but one of her eyebrows quirks up, an unspoken question— " good thing i'm not buying. " not like she has the money for it, anyway, but copping a fellow nariza's car just feels dirty to her. " actually, i came to ask how your staring contest with the fair lady is going. "
「 ₊ ☆ ﾟ fka twigs, she/her, cis female 」 INCOMING TEXT: omg hv u met JUNE BAILEY of the NARIZA BOIS yet ? they’re one of the crew’s street racers n actually go by SATURN. the thirty two y/o is typically seen hanging arnd so true tattoo. allegedly they’re frm chicago, illinois n hv been w/ the crew for THREE YEARS. wtvr. just watch out for them, k ? ttyl ! 」
THE START
"c'mon," an exhale, a whisper lost under the angry growling of the engine beneath her, begging to be set free. eyes locked between two windows, the glare of the stoplight tinting everything red under the moonless sky.
"c'mon," june whispers, pleading with no one, the road an empty mouth yawning before her. on her left, an engine screams; the driver's putting on a show, trying to scare her. with her wide brown eyes, her tiny stature, she certainly looks scare-able—but june's not scared. anyway, her eyes aren't on him, they're flicking to the cross-traffic stoplight, shining kelly green.
"c'mon," she can hardly register her heart beating as fast as it ever has. all she knows, all she's ever known, is that stoplight. and just like that, it flicks to yellow. right foot presses down, engine chomping at the bit. her rings clang against the metal of the gear shift. in the corner of her eye, june can see the other car, a splotch of blue.
she'd been eyeing him for several miles. a beautiful mitsubishi galant, brand new in perfect condition, and a total jackass behind the wheel. she'd been going to car meets with her older brother for long enough now that she could spot a racer from a mile away. it had been easy to egg him on, all she had to do was catch his eye. he was young, hyper-masculine; his car was flashy and new, a custom paint job with rims. hers looked (and was) busted—the inevitable result of low funds and high speeds—but the engine, oh god, how she sang; speeding down the open highway, sun pouring through the windows, she'd served june well in the short time she'd been driving her.
newly licensed, however, june had yet to put her car up to the test. a hand-me-down from her brother, a birthday gift of sorts, june knew she was fast, but not if she was fast enough. her engine pleaded, sensing the challenge; it wanted to be cut loose. the cross-traffic light flicked to red, and june gave it what it wanted.
the cars blasted from the line, june taking a quick and easy lead. she was vaguely aware of the other car in her rear-view, but most of all, she was aware of the unrestrained joy pulsing its way through her bloodstream, like getting high for the first time. a laugh bubbled from her throat as she pressed on the gas, road screaming beneath her. she could do that forever; just drive, needle pressing higher and higher and everything passing her by. nothing but the open road and a desperate inching toward lightspeed.
but then she missed a gearshift, and the engine stuttered. the mitsubishi streaked past her, kicking up a cloud of dust. she'd lost the race, but it didn't matter. euphoria still singing in her fingertips, june had found a new goal: to feel as she had just now (that is, fast), forever.
THE INTERVIEW
q: tell the story behind your alias.
a: "they call me saturn," she sits up a little straighter just then, chin high, "like the rings." her finger traces the air, tiny orbits, and she smiles. she'd gravitated toward the nariza bois for a reason, after all. "when I drift, it's like, perfect circles," she's never been the humble type, but she shrugs like she's throwing it all away. "on a good day, anyway." what she wouldn't tell you is that it's also because she's spacey, mind on another planet. she's lucky her alias wasn't alf.
q: is street racing a long term plan or a short lived hobby for you?
a: "this is for life, baby! you can pry this shit from my cold, dead hands." june's all smiles, couldn't imagine a different life and didn't want to. her brother was a car junkie, and turned her on to the world of car meets before she knew how to drive. she's always appreciated a beautiful car, the power of an engine; even sitting in the passenger's seat, she's always loved going fast. her first race got her hooked, but it was her first win that sealed the deal. june swears she was built for this, and she feels it head to toe every time her fingers wrap around a steering wheel.
q: how do you feel about the establishment of the nariza bois, particularly in relation to their split from the rodani prowlers?
a: her eyes are rolling before the question is finished, irritation flashing on her face clear as a headlight. "the split was necessary. those prowler assholes act like it's sacrilege to try a new technique. racing isn't just about nice cars and fancy parts." she didn't come from money, never had the sort of access the rodani prowlers were used to, and she'd done just fine street racing around chicago in her youth. all you really needed was a reliable mechanic and some creative maneuvering behind the wheel. of course, the mods they imagined up in nariza auto didn't hurt, either. "besides, our crew drifts circles around them."
q: what car do you drive? how have your made your car your own?
a: june smiles, eyes gleaming at the mere mention of her baby. "she's a 2001 mazda mx5," a dreamy sigh escapes her lips, and she continues, "baby blue, with iridescent rims. and magenta interior, 'cause you gotta represent, y'know?" modded to absolute oblivion thanks to the talented hands down at nariza auto, of course.
q: you're often seen around [so true tattoo]– what does a typical visit look like for you?
a: before saying a word, she lifts her braids to expose her ears, which are ringed with jewelry. "what can I say? I like getting stabbed." she has a couple tattoos, but they aren't quite her scene; she prefers the throbbing, immediate pain of a piercing to the dull buzzing of a tattoo. that, and the fact that she can change out her jewelry anytime she gets bored of her reflection, which is often.
THE BIO
she was born february 13th, 1975. for those keeping score, that makes her an aquarius sun, aries moon, pisces rising. this presents itself in a multitude of ways, the most obvious being chronic weird girl syndrome.
june grew up on the southside of chicago, basking in the beauty, art, and culture that was exploding from it. her family didn't have much, but they had each other, and she always grew up knowing fundamentally that you look out for your own.
her older brother was a huge influence on her. he and his friends were the cool kids, the ones june looked up to. she was the lame tag-along sister, but the thing was, he kept letting her tag along. first skate parks, then car meets, then she was going along to races with his crew—she couldn't drive, but she didn't care. the exhilaration was in the smell of burning rubber, the look of glory on the winner's face.
her first car (a '75 plymouth duster) was a gift, a hand-me-down from her brother, and it is to this day the best gift she ever received. it had been his first car, the one he'd spent a year of his life sweating under other people's cars to save up for. at the time he gave it, he'd already picked up a couple other options, had established a less-than-reputable business doing custom mods for his friends. even so, the gesture meant the world, and she treasured that car for many years.
as a condition for the car, june's brother made her swear up and down she would never use it for racing. he must've known even as he spoke the words that was a promise she would never keep. and indeed, she broke it only days later, finding herself unable to resist temptation when it came knocking. he let her keep the car, anyway—he was her frankenstein, after all.
her driving was a mess at first, all fire in the first half and falling apart in the second. by her senior year of high school, she'd practically given up racing, tired of losing. instead, she spent her time on empty roads and in parking lots in the suburbs, practicing. this is where she really unlocked her love of drifting, and it felt like this: control in the midst of what should be chaos.
when she returned to the racing scene in '95, she surprised everyone by winning, and winning often. all of the sudden, people knew who june was. for the first time ever, she would show up at a car meet and people she'd never met would greet her by name. june wasn't known as the best, but she was known, and that counted for something, right?
over the next few years, she built up a decent reputation for herself in the chicago racing scene. she wasn't always the fastest one on the track, but she always put on a show, using flashy maneuvers to get an edge on distractable drivers or block out racers with fancier cars. and she won often enough—turns out all that time dicking around in parking lots actually helped. and thank god, because her job at hot topic paid shit.
june had to leave chicago in 2003 after her brother ran into some trouble. she knew a little too much about what he'd been up to; it was safer to dip than to risk getting taken down with him. she packed a suitcase and hit the road, no destination in sight. she was calling it a road trip. she wasn't planning on staying anywhere permanently, just seeing where the road took her.
when she found herself in miami, june's only intention was to party—and party she did. for three nights, june floated like a cloud from club to club, drinking, smoking, and snorting anything and everything presented to her. but everywhere she went, she kept hearing whispers, whispers she couldn't ignore...
she joined the prowlers in fall of '03. in her words, "it was insane". she had never experienced the level of luxury that the prowlers could afford. and she was only just finding her legs there, only just getting used to the insanity, when the split happened.
she was always on mercury's side. and though some part of her (one she will never admit to) does miss the vip treatment being the prowlers got her, june was never one to follow rules, anyway.
very quickly, june found herself bonding to the nariza bois in that permanent, soul-bound kind of way. her family taught her to take care of her own, and that includes the bois now. she misses chicago, sure... until she starts thinking about the winter. miami is home.
she's been in the scene a long time, and she's starting to feel it. not that she's over it—far from it—but it seems like every other week now some new hot shot comes racing through, and she's just astonished by their youth, their energy. she's only thirty two, but her races are starting to bleed together in her head. could it be she's losing her edge?
THE HEADCANONS
june loves beautiful women. she's a little bit of a romantic, actually; swears she falls in love 8 times a day. the trouble is, it never lasts long. all it takes is the next pretty face to walk in and bat their eyelashes, and she's a goner.
everyone loves a party, right? at least, june does—and who would she be to say no when offered a substance or two? listen, what happens in a dark club, stays in a dark club...
she loves to play the gamecube. she knows the wii interface is better, she doesn't care. she's beat the need for speed: underground game twice. catch her hitting her villagers with shovels in the og animal crossing.
june loves jewelry! rings, necklaces, earrings; she loves to layer it all up, particularly gold pieces. same goes for tooth gems, facial piercings, even tattoos to an extent; she likes the idea of modding herself out like her car.
THE WANTED CONNECTIONS
the bad influence: look, she's a full grown woman and all, but june has never been able to say no to peer pressure. being the youngest in the friend group as a teenager will do that to a person. this is someone who is constantly convincing her to go out, drink more, maybe even take some... other substances. she can't say no, and she always has fun, but god those hangovers don't feel like they used to...
i'm right you're wrong: i imagine this is a rodani racer, maybe someone she knew from back in the day before the split. her driving is explosive, tricky; i imagine this person is a more straight-forward type of fast. they fundamentally disagree about what racing should be, and she absolutely loves to argue with them. like, she will seek them out on purpose, even though they hate each other, just to start arguments, because she likes being annoying.
crush of the week: june can't resist a pretty face. this is someone she cannot stop flirting with, whether or not the person entertains it. any gender accepted here, though she tends to go for women more often than not.
jilted lover: listen, my girl loves to hit it and quit it. i'm sorry. it's who she is. this used to be her crush of the week, and they reciprocated. it was great, until they caught her at 12welve flirting with some chick and, well... you know how it goes.
jealousy, jealousy: this is a rival of sorts in the scene. someone who's at june's level, or someone who's recently risen to it, who she can't stop comparing herself to. i see this as someone younger than her, or at least less experienced. this person triggers a lot of insecurity for her so she acts kinda shady around them as a defense mechanism.
star student: a nariza boi that she's taken under her wing, a sort of mentor/mentee situation. they have so much potential! she is so proud! but also terrified, because they're already better than she was at their age, and they're quickly reaching better than she is at her current age. ultimately though, it's all love; if the bois are prospering so is june.
fill in the blank: have an empty connection you think june could fit? have an idea? hit me up!!
germansingergirl
gummygunk
vaporwave
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jacobvanloon
theartofmadeline
jbbartram-illu
tangentwithtanner
