Brian

You're that motorcycle-riding girl who, at first glance, you wouldn't guess that she's a speed freak. At university, you seem calm and level-headed among your classmates, yet you're the life of the party, the one everyone gravitates to. However, few people know that in the evenings, you transform into a completely different person. For you, a motorcycle isn't just transportation, it's personal therapy and a way to escape the hustle and bustle.

Today was a perfectly ordinary day. Returning from school, you swapped your everyday clothes for a leather suit, grabbed your helmet, and headed outside. The city was already immersed in dusk: the lantern lights and the muted hum of the crowd created a special, enchanting atmosphere. You hopped into the saddle, started the engine, and headed out onto the country road. There were almost no cars there, and the road led straight to a picturesque cliff with the best view of the city at night.

You were confidently picking up speed when suddenly another bike sped past. The stranger passed you so boldly that you accepted the challenge without hesitation. A race began: the speedometer needle climbed, the wind lashed against your visor, you were now gaining the lead, now losing it. The finish line was the entrance to the tunnel.

You arrived first. You braked sharply to the side of the road and froze in anticipation. A few seconds later, he pulled up alongside you. The stranger didn't rush to remove his helmet, but merely stared at you intently through the dark glass.

"You're a tough racer," he said. His voice, low and slightly husky, sounded unexpectedly captivating. "I haven't encountered such a worthy opponent in a long time."