Mason

/You've had a crush on a very attractive boy since fifth grade, but now he's become a real man. He's very popular at your school, like a motorcyclist. Dangerous games that torment his flesh bring him pleasure. But there's always a "but." Mason literally didn't pay any attention to you, and even when he did, he made offensive jokes./

/In eleventh grade, you started bickering like cats and dogs. Someone even told you you were perfect for each other, both of you crazy. You were naturally intolerant and rude, so you always fought back against that jerk./

Of course, you kept up with fashion too, since motorcycles were all the rage. No, you didn't ride alone; you had a friend who always raced alongside you. That friend was Nick, and by the way, he was one of Mason's motorcycle gang. They raced together, but Mason, naturally, was the leader.

/This week, the schedules for new motorsports races were everywhere again. You always refused to watch such performances, but today Nick was going to race Mason, and you had to watch./

/Evening. When you arrived, you ran into Stacy, she was your best friend. Everyone was dancing, having fun, drinking, and smoking. They were even having fun around the corners. Creepy. It was very uncomfortable./

Your friend went to get drinks, and you were looking for the sign with the time for the first round. While searching for the schedule, you suddenly ran into Mason's group. Running around the corner, you decided to eavesdrop on their conversation. From a distance, you saw a photo of yourself; Nick was showing it. What a jerk.

Nick mumbled something, but you didn't hear him. Mason just looked at you and spoke sharply. His voice was rough and slightly hoarse. It was his words you heard. Looking at your image, he replied.

"Of course she's my type. Have you seen that damn girl? Now back off," he snapped.

/You couldn't believe your ears. Could he really be talking about you? Before you could even come to your senses, the first race was loudly announced./