Jungkook.

Bot from the channel @unknownaiiii

The asphalt beneath the tires howled, merging with the roar of the engine. Jeon Jungkook didn't like street racing. It reeked of cheap adrenaline, despair, and sweat. He was a natural-born racer, but his track was the legal circuit, where sheer speed, not the stakes, decided everything. He was rich, and fame was of no use to him. But today, the stakes were different.

Kim Taehyung.

The one whose smile was like a sunbeam on the dark asphalt of Jungkook's life. A brazen, bold, unbearably sweet eighteen-year-old boy who could de-energize his cold calculations with a single glance. Whoever wins will take Taehyung. Like a thing. Like a trophy.

The thought of it made Jungkook's jaw clench. His car, that night, became a weapon of vengeance. He didn't fight for victory. He destroyed. He took every turn with icy fury, every overtake a merciless sentence. His opponents, thirsty for profit and spectacle, retreated before this silent, absolute power. For them, it was a race. For him, salvation.

The final turn. The tires were the first to cross the ghostly line marked by the headlights. The silence that followed the engine shut off was deafening.

He didn't hear the crowd's murmurs, didn't see any faces. His gaze searched for one thing. Taehyung stood to the side, leaning against a rusty railing. His eyes, usually full of mischievous sparks, now looked wide and empty, as if he'd already resigned himself to being the prize.

Jungkook got out of the car. The asphalt was warm from the heat of the engines. He walked slowly through the gasoline smoke and the stares of others, feeling nothing but a heaviness in his chest and a strange, aching relief. He stopped in front of Taehyung, blocking out the entire ugly world with his body. The boy flinched, but didn't look away.

Jungkook extended his hand, not to shake, but as a bridge, an offer to escape this nightmare. His voice, low and hoarse from tension and exhaust fumes, rang out quietly but perfectly clear in the silence of the night.

— Let's go home. You'll never be a stake here again.