A/N: In terms of the Catalyst timeline, this is set a little while after Jinx and Taryn first meet, which is almost seven years before Jak II.
There's a beautiful cover for this story on DeviantArt by HeroismInACan, entitled "Hexagon".
Blinding lights, roaring engines, a bustling crowd – and that was the aftermath of a race. The NYFE Class 1 Championship always caused mass hysteria in the city, as if the sport held a higher power over the people. Considering a hopeless, one-sided war against the Metal Heads outside the walls and the Praxis' vicelike grip within, perhaps the comparison was accurate.
Buried within the masses wading towards one of the Stadium's exits, even a blue-haired shrimp of a girl struggled to slip through and escape – before the Krimzon Guard realised she was underage and hadn't bought a ticket.
Almost free, fingers encircled her wrist and tugged; however, she found herself propelled forwards, not back. Emerald optics futilely scanned for the individual in the surrounding chaos. They didn't come to a stop until well away from the building, huddled near a tree to one side. Fortunately, the excited and drunk continued moving in a somewhat straight line and avoided the pair entirely.
The girl's gaze tilted upwards at her saviour. The evening gloom obscured a great deal, forcing her to focus harder, but she at last recognised the male stood before her. Already overwhelmed with adrenaline from the race, her beaming smile grew wider.
The boy was tall and a little gangly, with a mop of collar-length blonde hair, its messy fringe dangling into dark green eyes. His attire consisted of a well-worn olive vest and slightly baggy brown jeans tucked into black biker boots.
"JINX!" she cried, slamming into his chest with a hug that almost bowled him over. Despite almost having the wind knocked out of him, he returned the embrace and gave her pigtails a little ruffle, knowing she would bat him away and protest about "touching the 'do". Teasing was his favourite hobby and she always went for the bait.
"Heya, Taryn," he chuckled. "Glad you weren't crushed back there."
The girl's expression softened upon hearing her name. Whenever he used it, rather than the numerous monikers, she knew he was in a more serious mentality. The concern for her safety could have been seen as overprotective, but was also admirable. It felt nice to know someone cared.
"So?" he pushed.
"Huh?" Her thoughts had distracted from all else. Mind spinning, she needed a moment to remember the night's events. "Oh, right! That race was amazing! The best yet! Erol started in the middle of the pack, but it wasn't long before he was moving up into third, then second. He and some wannabe kept fighting over first the whole way, but then that loser lost control of his air racer and crashed! The crowd went wild! Others kept doing the same thing, trying to put Erol off, but he was having none of it. Weirdly, he hung back on the last stretch – looked like someone would actually beat him this time – then he suddenly boosts and skids past like it's nothing, and won!"
Her blonde companion listened intently and watched, as her animated movements colourfully illustrated the story. "Must've been a sweet victory."
"Definitely. Oh, you really should've been there, Jay."
"No way. Who's else'll get you outta trouble?"
Taryn offered a shrug and they both sniggered.
For the last year, she had sneaked into the Stadium to watch her idol overcome whatever challenge he was faced with, advancing through the three classes with tremendous speed, apparently unheard of in the sport's history.
Jinx understood how much that inspired her, as much as it caused his mouth to draw into a thin line. Having spent a great deal of time with the wrong types of people, as well as suffering his own brand of childhood trauma, he recognised darkness and potential hazard in others. Something about the red-head screamed dangerous.
Regardless, the girl had her heart set on becoming a racer, too. There was no stopping that dream – not to mention she possessed some darkness of her own. Erol and the NYFE provided her with a distraction. In the role of big brother, it was the blonde's responsibility to support her however he could. After all, he'd known her longer than anyone. She saved him from being captured by guards and thrown into the Fortress for a crime he still refused to disclose. They had been practically joined at the hip ever since.
For some time, Jinx wanted to encourage Taryn with more than just words and a pat on the back, but nothing came to mind, 'til now. At last, he found something she would put to good use.
It appeared the duo shared the same ambition, although he felt lacking in talent and motivation, instead focusing more on his first love – pyrotechnics. Now was the time to hand over those reins to someone far more capable.
"I got something for ya," he managed between her relentless babbling. Mentioning a gift was a guaranteed way to get the girl's attention. She paused and blinked, awaiting the surprise. "I never got anywhere with my racin' dream…" He dug into the pocket of his trousers and produced a pair of goggles – two pieces of red hexagonal glass sat in thick straps of brown leather, joined in the centre with a square of grey metal. "You should have these."
Her mouth formed an 'o' shape and eyes shimmered with the beginnings of unshed tears. Almost afraid to accept them, she simply stared at his hand. This was more than a present he offered; it could be her future. Renewed hope flooded her body. She gingerly accepted them and traced her little fingers over every piece. It was a struggle to find her voice; somehow, she managed to thank him.
A tad awkward around the emotions she currently felt and showed on her countenance, he abruptly moved forward, taking the goggles and fastening them over her eyes, before stepping back and taking the time to admire the adorable image.
They were made for her.
Hands clutched at her pounding chest and mouth still forming the little, astonished 'o', she lacked a single response. All that came to mind was I can do this!
Jinx vocally mirrored her determined thought, then offered a second ruffle of her hair. Strangely, she didn't protest, instead absorbed once more by aspirational reveries.
One day, Taryn would be on that very track in the Stadium, racing against Erol himself.
And she would win.
