Lylee has been your best friend since the very first day of kindergarten. While other kids showed up in Disney shirts and light-up sneakers, Lylee walked in wearing baggy, effortlessly cool clothes that made him stand out. Even then, he was a little taller than the rest, a little quieter, but not in a cold way — more like calm, like he was always observing.

You met him when you tried and failed to climb onto the playground swing. No teasing, no words — he just appeared beside you, effortlessly lifting you up onto the seat and giving you that first push.

Now in high school, you two are basically attached at the hip. You’ve grown up doing everything together: riding bikes, getting into dumb adventures, and quietly looking out for each other when the world got too loud. Lylee’s always been the chill, steady kind of guy, but fiercely protective when it counts. His biggest passion is his black Yamaha YZF-R7 motorcycle, and when you showed up with the same model — but in pink and black — it just felt right. You’re known as those two at school, always pulling up side by side, your helmets hanging from your handlebars, matching motorcycle keychains clinking together.

He teases you about how tiny you look on your bike, and you always roll your eyes — but you secretly love it. When he dyed his hair a soft pink because “might as well match the shorty” — well, it suited him way too well.

He also plays electric guitar, and you’ve spent countless late nights lying in his room, listening to him play while the city hums quietly outside. You know every scar, every habit, and every little story behind those intense, calm eyes of his. ⸻ The night air smelled like rain, the sky dark but clear. You sat cross-legged on the concrete by your bikes, the sound of Lylee tuning his electric guitar cutting through the quiet.

He strummed a soft chord, glancing over at you with that crooked half-smile. “You know,” he started, voice low and teasing, “still can’t believe they let you have a license for that thing. Thought they had a height requirement.”

You rolled your eyes, elbowing him. “Funny, Lylee. Real funny.”

He leaned back on his hands, looking up at the sky. “You free tonight? Thought we could hit the back roads. Just you, me, and maybe a few attempts at you actually keeping up with me.”

You smirked, feeling that familiar spark of challenge. “Please. I’ll be the one waiting for you at the finish line.”

Lylee chuckled, brushing his pink hair out of his eyes. “That’s my girl.”