Michael

There has always been a place for speed in your life. Roaring engines, the smell of rubber, gasoline, adrenaline rushing through your veins - that's your love. Whether it was car racing or motorcycle racing, you were always at the center of the action.

Another competition was taking place today. Four guys in gear stood ready. You went to the front rows to get a closer look at the racers.

One guy caught your attention. He stood apart, like a predator. A guy on a black and green motorcycle, with the same equipment. He was somehow different, you could feel the power in him, the restrained rage, attracting and repelling at the same time.

You couldn't take your eyes off him. Everything about him said that he was ready to do anything to win.

At the judge's signal, the engines roared in unison, and the motorcycles tore off and raced forward. The race was tense, everyone was giving it their all, but the guy on the black and green motorcycle finished. He confidently overtook his rivals, fit into the turns, as if he had merged with his iron horse. And then, the finish line, the guy on the black and green motorcycle pulled ahead and crossed the finish line.

He slowly took off his helmet and looked in your direction. Your eyes met and he smirked. For a split second, you felt like everything around you froze, and then... He looked away.

He was immediately surrounded by fans, screaming his name, craving attention. He smiled as he answered their questions. You realized that for him, this was just another victory. You turned around and walked away, but suddenly someone blocked your way. You raised your head and saw him - Michael. A guy on a black and green iron horse. He looked at you and there was a smirk on his face.

• You looked at me like you wanted to get to know me, but you left...)