The Heart Leads

Chapter 1

Brian O’Conner wasn’t like most 17-year-olds. His life had been a series of punches—literal and emotional—and he was already too familiar with the darker side of things. His past? A mess of broken promises, fights, and a whole lot of neglect. His parents had basically thrown in the towel after years of him being the problem child. Too angry. Too lost. They shipped him off to live with his uncle in some quiet suburban neighborhood, hoping a change of scenery would magically fix him.

It didn’t.

His uncle was a stranger, really. An older guy who worked all the time, leaving Brian alone in that house most days. It was like living in a ghost town. No one really cared enough to check in. The silence was the loudest thing in the house, and it only reminded him of all the things he wished he could forget. His uncle didn’t ask questions, didn’t poke around in his life—which, yeah, Brian kind of appreciated—but it also meant that when the loneliness hit, there was no one there. No one to talk to. Just the weight of it all.

Today was no different. He needed air. Needed to get out of the house before the walls closed in on him. The pregnancy was starting to feel real. His back was killing him, and every step felt like it was dragging a ton behind him. It wasn’t that he hated being pregnant; it was just the constant ache. His body was betraying him, and he hated it. Maybe a walk would clear his head.

The streets were eerily quiet, a stillness that felt out of place. But it was nice. Until he passed a house a few doors down and saw the cars outside. Muscle cars. Imports. The kind of cars that screamed money and speed, like they belonged in a fast-paced movie. His own car, a Skyline, was parked back at his uncle’s place, gathering dust. It used to be his pride and joy, but now it just felt like a reminder of a life that wasn’t his anymore.

He stood there for a second, eyes lingering on the cars. He knew people like him—people from the wrong side of the tracks—didn’t get to drive cars like that. Not unless they were lucky. Or had something to prove.

The door opened. A group of people walked out. They were... different. There was something about them. The way they carried themselves, like they knew exactly who they were and didn’t care what anyone thought. They had that swagger, that confidence. They looked untouchable.

He quickly glanced away, hoping they hadn’t noticed. But of course, they had.

"Hey, you looking at our cars?" A guy with a gravelly voice called out. He was staring at Brian like he was some kind of puzzle. The guy’s name was Vince, judging by the way the others reacted. His eyes raked over Brian, sizing him up.

Brian’s heart skipped. He didn’t belong here. Didn’t belong anywhere, really. But he wasn’t going to run. He couldn’t.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry about that," he mumbled. "Just... looking. They’re nice."

It was stupid. Too honest. Too awkward. But what else could he say? He had no idea how to talk to people like this. People who had their lives together. People who weren’t... broken.

Vince didn’t respond right away. Instead, he glanced at the others. Dom, a guy with that dangerous kind of vibe, stepped forward. His gaze wasn’t unfriendly, just... curious.

"You into cars?" Dom asked, voice low but not threatening.

"Yeah," Brian said, a little shakily. "I used to be... but it’s been a while." His hand hovered over his stomach, feeling the slight pressure of the baby moving, reminding him of everything that had changed. The Skyline was just another thing that didn’t matter anymore.

Letty, standing off to the side, was watching him. Her eyes softened when they landed on his belly. "You okay, kid?" she asked, her voice surprisingly gentle. "You look like you’re in pain."

The question hit harder than he expected. Nobody asked him how he was doing. And when they did, it was never out of kindness. "I’m fine," he lied. But his body betrayed him. The dull ache in his back had turned sharp, and the baby had been moving all morning. It hurt, but he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it. "Just... carrying this," he gestured to his stomach.

The group exchanged looks, the air between them shifting. They weren’t stupid. They could see something was off.

Jesse, the guy with the messy hair, smiled and took a step forward. "You should come by the garage sometime," he said, his tone light. "We’re always working on stuff. You want a place to hang out, or just talk cars, you’re welcome."

Brian blinked, caught off guard. These people didn’t know him. Didn’t know what he’d been through. So why were they offering him... something? A place to belong? A place where he didn’t have to pretend to be something he wasn’t?

"Thanks," Brian said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I might take you up on that."

Mia, who had been quiet, gave him a soft smile. "You’re new here, huh? We haven’t seen you around."

"Yeah," Brian nodded. "Just moved in with my uncle."

"Family’s important," Letty added, her voice sharp but somehow knowing. "You ever need anything, don’t hesitate to ask."

For a second, it felt like someone actually saw him. Not out of pity. Not out of some weird sympathy. But because they actually cared. And for the first time in a long time, it didn’t feel like he had to prove anything. Like maybe, just maybe, he could find a place here. A place where he wasn’t judged for what he was, or what he wasn’t.

"Name’s Brian," he said, a tentative smile tugging at his lips. "Brian O’Conner."

Dom gave him a nod. "Alright, Brian. Welcome to the neighborhood."

As they went back inside, Brian stayed where he was for a moment, taking in the sight of the cars, the people, the feeling that maybe—just maybe—he wasn’t as invisible as he’d thought.