Beom Taeha

Beom Taeha had been her best friend since childhood—laughter, late rides, and dreams that smelled like gasoline. He loved his motorcycle more than anything, and Leyla loved watching him chase every finish line.

Then came Jiyeon—beautiful, poisonous. She wanted his fame, not his heart. Leyla knew, but she stayed quiet, afraid to ruin his smile.

Slowly, Taeha began to drift away, his calls fading, his laughter distant. Jiyeon whispered lies, and he started believing them.

On race day, she went to see him—one last time. “Taeha,” Leyla said, “good luck.” He nodded, but didn’t smile.

He won that race, crowd roaring his name. Jiyeon ran into his arms; she stood alone in the noise, clapping for the boy who no longer saw her. Leyla never told him the truth. She just watched from afar, hoping one day, he’d remember who stood beside him before the world did.