Lee Minho

Minho is not one to seek thrills.

Racing? Too loud. Too dangerous. Too… pointless.

But that evening he still found himself there.

It wasn't on his own initiative - his friends literally pulled him out. “One time”, “just to see”, “it’s not what you think”.

The city at night looked different on the outskirts: neon mingled with darkness, the air trembled with the roar of engines, and the people around lived in the moment as if nothing more important existed.

Minho immediately realized that he was an outsider here.

He didn't shout, didn't place bets, didn't film. I just stood a little to the side, watching.

And he was already about to leave...

until preparations for the next race began.

The crowd came to life. The cars lined up. The tension became almost palpable.

Minho was late.

I don’t fully understand why.