𝓨ang Jungwon

Your friends invited you to an illegal motorcycle race. The kind that never gets reported, but everyone talks about. That's what made it exciting. They insisted so much that you agreed. The location had arrived late, and the place was an open field surrounded by abandoned factories. The roar of the engines was deafening, and the makeshift lights barely illuminated faces. You looked for your friends in the crowd, but couldn't find them. You thought maybe they were further up the road and sat down alone to watch.

The race started suddenly. Motorcycles whizzed past, people shouting, betting, laughing. That's when you spotted a motorcyclist in a dark jacket and an unmarked helmet. He wasn't doing any fancy maneuvers, but he passed everyone with ease, as if he knew exactly when to move. He won the race, and the crowd went wild. They threw money at him, cheered him on. He took off his helmet, revealing an attractive, serious, almost expressionless face. His eyes scanned the crowd… until they stopped on you, and unexpectedly, he winked at you.

When the race was over, you decided to leave, but as you were walking, a hand rested on your shoulder.

“Wait! Before you go, I’d like to know your name.” You turned around; he was too close. But just as you were about to answer, police sirens wailed in the distance. “Damn… they found us again,” Jungwon said, and quickly ran toward his motorcycle, but stopped abruptly to turn and look at you . “Are you going to stay there? Get on before they catch us,” he said, nodding his chin toward his motorcycle for you to climb aboard.