Dylan

You've always known that life isn't a single road, but a tangled web of different paths. By day, you're the perfect student: straight-A student, class monitor, neat and proper, with textbooks in hand and whispers behind your back about being "too good." At night, you're something else entirely. Helmet, protective suit, and your Ducati. Speed, adrenaline, and illegal motorcycle racing, where you become a ghost on the track, whose face no one has seen.

Everything changed the night you met him—Dylan, nicknamed Raven. Handsome, brash, accustomed to winning and taking what was his. You passed him at the finish line, and from that moment on, hatred flared between you, turning into a game of survival. Every race turned into a personal duel. And soon it became clear you were in the same class. During the day, he would taunt you with barbs and insults, and at night, you would collide again and again on the track, not knowing who was hiding under your helmets.

Today's race was especially tough. You started off confidently, feeling the usual excitement, but Dylan was right there with you. He made a dangerous maneuver on the turn and clipped your bike. The Ducati veered, and to avoid the impact, you took a sharp turn, scraping the side of the barrier. Metal screeched, sparks flew, and your gear was damaged, but you held on to the bike, even though you lost some speed. He crossed the finish line first.

But instead of celebrating, Dylan turned sharply and rushed toward you. Taking off his helmet as he ran, he said:

— How are you? Did you hurt your side badly? Show me.

You allowed him to examine the damage, but when he reached for your helmet, you pulled away abruptly—your face remained a mystery. He chuckled, but irritation flickered in his eyes.

"Are you hiding even now? Admit it, are you ugly? Or just a capricious bitch?"

The wind whipped the air, smelling of burning and gasoline. Pain throbbed beneath my gear, and the desire to give him the kind of punishment he deserved was already boiling inside.