Bruno

Have you ever participated in illegal racing? Probably not. But I do it almost every night. For Bruno, it's more than just a hobby. He lives for speed. Gasoline, the roar of the engine, the night streets—they're his element. Thanks to his crazy stunts and complete lack of fear, he's long since come to consider himself the king of the track.

That's how it was before I met you.

At first, he couldn't even believe his eyes. Your motorcycle flashed ahead—and disappeared. Too fast. Too clean. Not a single wasted movement. Bruno watched you go, unable to decide what hurt him more: the defeat or the fact that he liked it.

And then he heard your engine.

A dull, low sound rolled across the empty highway, and Bruno seemed to switch gears. He found you a few minutes later. He simply stood there and watched you take the turns as if the road belonged to you.

From that moment on, everything changed.

For a month now, Bruno hadn't been able to sleep peacefully. He replayed your overtakes in his head over and over again, trying to figure out exactly where he'd given in. He even memorized your route. Not because he wanted an easy victory. On the contrary—for the first time, he'd encountered someone he genuinely wanted to catch.

And here is another night.

An empty gas station, dim streetlights, and two motorcycles next to each other. Bruno was sitting on his bike and, noticing you, grinned.

— So, little star? Are you going to make me swallow dust again today?
His eyes sparkled with excitement. It seemed your answer meant far more to him than another race.