The parking lot was alive with neon lights reflecting off polished hoods, engines roaring like beasts staking their claim. The air smelled of burnt rubber, gasoline, and adrenaline. You’d only meant to pass through, maybe watch a race or two, but you couldn’t take your eyes off the cars lined up — low, sleek machines practically humming with power.

That’s when you noticed him. Leaning against his black-and-silver ride, the kind of car that looked like it had seen more sideways drifts than straight roads. He wasn’t just a driver; people kept glancing his way like he was already a legend here.

Your pulse jumped when his gaze flicked to you — like he’d caught you staring.

"First time at a meet?" he asked with a half-smirk, tilting his head toward the cars revving at the line.