The sun was now higher, its golden rays bouncing off the polished curves of chrome and steel. Brian Marcos wiped his hands with an old rag, then closed the hood of the Charger with a firm thud. The silence of the garage was cut by the low growl of a Japanese engine approaching.
A sleek, black Nissan 350Z slid to a stop just outside the house—its tires whispering on the asphalt.
Jack O'Conner stepped out, now changed into a clean shirt, a slight grin tugging at his lips.
"Thought you'd be under the hood," he said, walking over.
Brian tossed the rag aside. "You're late."
Jack shrugged. "Didn't realize we had a schedule."
Brian nodded toward the Charger. "We always do."
They walked around the car slowly, the way racers do—less as friends, more like two competitors silently measuring each other.
Jack broke the silence. "You still going to that thing tonight?"
Brian didn't answer right away. Instead, he looked up at the clear sky, then over at the worn photo of Dom and Brian Sr. clipped inside the garage.
"Yeah," he finally said. "Zane's crew will be there. I wanna see what they've got."
Jack raised an eyebrow. "Zane? You're not seriously thinking about running against them?"
Brian's eyes locked onto his. Calm. Confident. Dangerous.
"They started talking like they own the streets," he said. "Time someone reminded them who built 'em."
Jack shook his head with a half-smile. "You're just like your dad."
Brian smirked. "Yeah. But faster."
Plates clinked. Laughter echoed. Someone turned on music—soft, old-school, maybe something Dom used to blast from his garage speakers in the early 2000s.
Brian Marcos leaned back in his chair, now halfway done with his ribs. Letty was telling a story about a wild car chase through the hills of Spain. Sofia giggled at all the wrong parts. Mia smiled softly, watching her kids grow up around the legacy they never asked for—but somehow, had fully embraced.
But Jack…
Jack O'Conner still sat at the far end, shoulders tense, gaze fixed somewhere in the distance. His plate was barely touched. He kept spinning his fork, drawing lines in his mashed potatoes like he was planning a route only he understood.
Brian noticed.
He grabbed two cans of soda, nodded politely to Letty, and walked over to the bench near the edge of the park—just close enough to the table, but far enough to feel alone. He sat beside Jack without saying a word and handed him a can.
Jack took it. No thanks. No smile. Just a sip.
Silence.
Finally, Brian spoke. "You mad at me?"
Jack kept his eyes forward. "No."
Another pause.
"Then why you been quiet since that race two nights ago?" Brian asked, his tone low.
Jack turned his head slightly. "Because you don't know what you're getting into."
Brian scoffed. "Come on, man. You sound like my dad."
Jack looked at him now. Really looked. "That's the problem. You think this is some kind of game. You think just because you're fast and your last name means something, you're untouchable."
Brian's jaw tightened. "You think I don't know the risks?"
"I think you're chasing ghosts," Jack said, standing slowly. "And I'm not sure you'll know when to stop."
He walked off, leaving Brian alone with the half-crushed soda can still cold in his hand.
Most of the guests had gone home. The laughter had faded, the plates now empty, and the air hung heavy with a calm that only came after old memories had been stirred.
Brian O'Conner stood alone near the parked GT-R, sipping from a red plastic cup. He stared into the night—not at anything in particular, but deep into thought.
Behind him, footsteps approached.
He turned slightly.
It was Jack.
Still in his hoodie. Still guarded. But closer now.
Brian gave him a small nod. "Didn't think you'd come talk."
Jack shrugged. "Didn't think you'd show up tonight."
A beat of silence.
Brian took a breath. "You've got your mother's fire… but I see myself in the way you hold back."
Jack looked away. "You think I'm holding back?"
Brian stepped forward, setting down the cup on the hood of his car. "I know what it's like to carry silence like armor."
Jack crossed his arms. "You weren't around enough to know what I carry."
That one hit hard—but Brian didn't flinch. He nodded slowly. "You're right. I made choices. Some good, some... selfish. But never once did I stop thinking about you."
Jack's voice was low. "Then why did it always feel like the streets mattered more?"
Brian stepped closer, his voice almost a whisper. "Because I thought winning was how I'd protect you. I didn't realize the real race was being present."
Jack finally looked him in the eyes. There was pain. But there was also a crack in the wall.
"I wanted to be angry. Still do," Jack said. "But every time I get behind the wheel... I think of you."
Brian smiled, just a little. "Then I guess I left something behind after all."
Another pause. Then Jack asked, softer now, "You still drive like you used to?"
Brian raised an eyebrow. "You trying to race me, son?"
Jack smirked faintly. "Not tonight."
Brian stepped back, opened the door to the GT-R, and glanced at him. "When you're ready… I'll be there. No rush. Just the open road."
Jack nodded. No words. But something shifted.
A beginning.
Letty glanced over with a smile and said,
"What if we all went on a vacation to an island? Fresh air, white sand, no engine sounds—just waves crashing."
Dom turned with a raised eyebrow, setting his drink down on the table.
"We're just gonna leave the kids here?"
Letty smirked, "They're seventeen, Dom. They can handle themselves. Besides, we're bringing Sofia. She needs a break too."
Brian Marcos reacted quickly from across the table, still holding a piece of grilled chicken.
"Oh no, come on! We can take time off too. Let us join!"
Mia shook her head gently, her voice calm but firm.
"You two need to focus on school. Isn't tomorrow the first day?"
Jack leaned back in his seat, eyes on the sky. He didn't say a word, but it was clear he was listening.
Mia continued,
"Prepare yourselves properly. You may be in different schools, but you still have to look out for each other."
Brian Marcos nodded, disappointed but understanding.
He went to a public school called Hillcrest High School.
Jack went to a different one—Westburn Academy, a stricter private school that Brian O'Conner chose to keep him disciplined.
Letty stood up, pulling Dom's hand with a playful grin.
"Come on, before you change your mind about this trip."
Brian O'Conner turned toward them and said as he took off his jacket,
"In that case, I can take a little time off work too. When was the last time we enjoyed life without racing or chasing bad guys?"
Everyone chuckled softly.
Sofia jumped with excitement. "Yay! Vacation!"
Meanwhile, Jack kept his eyes on the sky, barely moving.
Under his breath, he muttered,
"Vacation? This place is chaotic enough already."