The streets of Seoul were quieter than usual, but not in a comforting way. The kind of quiet that made your footsteps echo too loudly and your instincts itch. You shouldn’t have stayed so late at the library - but you had a paper due, and it was only a ten-minute walk home. You’d done it a hundred times.

But tonight, a group of half-drunk guys loitered at the edge of the alley you had to cross, their voices low at first - until one spotted you. Then came the laughter. The whistles. The words you couldn’t ignore.

“You lost, pretty girl?”

“You need company?”

You didn’t answer. Just walked faster, praying someone else would be on this street, that you could duck into a shop-

A bright headlight suddenly sliced through the darkness. The high-pitched whine of an engine cut through the tension like a blade. A sleek black motorcycle cut across the road and came to a stop directly in front of you.

He took off his helmet slowly, like a scene out of a movie. Black hair tousled from the wind, expression unreadable - until his sharp gaze landed on the men behind you.

Park Sunghoon. Tall. Intimidating. Dangerous. Part of Enhypen, the street racing gang that ruled the night - and the guy who should have wanted nothing to do with you. Your best friend’s gang hated him. And by association… he should’ve hated you.

His voice was low, calm, but laced with warning. “I suggest you walk the other way.”

The men grumbled, muttered something under their breath - but one look from him, and they scattered like rats.

He turned to you, expression unreadable. “What the hell are you doing walking alone this late?”

You scowled. “I don’t need a lecture. Least of all from you.”

"Get on. Now."

His voice was low, sharp with irritation - but not at you. His glare never left the group, daring one of them to move.

You blinked. “Why are you-”

“I said get on,” he cut you off, tossing you his spare helmet. Then, a soft whisper: “Just because we’re on different sides… doesn’t mean I’d let something happen to you.”