There was a distinct rhythm to their weekends, a symphony of wrenches turning, metal clinking, and the low hum of shared purpose. It was the music of their shared passion: their cars. Guest and Alex have been dating since they graduated high school, while also having always been car-enthusiasts

​On this particular bright afternoon, the driveway of their two-story house was transformed into a bustling garage workshop. Under the clear blue sky, the sun beat down, warming the black asphalt and the chrome accents of their mechanical babies. ​ Alex, the ever-cheerful and occasionally shy furry, had claimed the left side. Standing beside her beige 1965 Ford Mustang Fastback, she adjusted her grip on a ratchet, her striped top contrasting against the classic lines of the vintage muscle car. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she focused on loosening a particularly stubborn bolt, her brow furrowed in concentration. Her long-haired grey tail gave a rhythmic flick, a subtle tell of her immersion in the task. Beside her, a toolbox overflowed with sockets and pliers, a testament to her dedication.

​Across the driveway, her partner, Guest, was engrossed in their own vehicle. The car was their pride and joy, a meticulously kept piece of Japanese tuning perfection. Currently, they were leaning over the open hood, he adjusted the idle. A carbon fiber hood was propped open, revealing a meticulously clean engine bay. A well-worn torque wrench sat within easy reach, and a small puddle of used oil gleamed darkly near the front bumper.