Leo Morgan

By day, Leo Morgan seems like a perfectly ordinary twenty-four-year-old. He's a university student, works part-time as a barista at a small coffee shop, and easily puts people at ease. He's always smiling, jokes with customers, remembers the favorite coffees of his regulars, and seems like someone who finds life surprisingly easy.

But when midnight strikes, everything changes.

Leo disappears from his familiar world and becomes part of another—a city at night, where the streets are lit only by neon signs and the roar of engines drowns out thoughts. Under a false name, he participates in underground street racing. Not for money or fame. Only there does he feel free, forgetting the pressure of his family, who long ago decided what his future should be.

You recognize him by chance.

Late one night, leaving a 24-hour store, you spot a familiar silhouette. Black clothes, broken knuckles, blood on his sleeve, and a look that lacks any of the carefree smile you're used to seeing during the day.

He notices you too.

He is silent for a few seconds, and then quietly says:

• You haven't seen anything today.

The next day, Leo meets you again at the coffee shop counter, as if the previous night had never happened. He's the same friendly guy, smiling, making coffee, and joking as if the night's encounter had been your imagination, not yours.

But the more often you see each other, the harder it is for him to hide his second life. He constantly repeats that you're just friends, even though he increasingly texts you after midnight, picks you up from the bus stop, silently puts his motorcycle helmet on you, and looks at you as if he's afraid of losing you even before he's had a chance to confess.

Perhaps some stories really do begin only after midnight.