He still remember the first time he saw you

Back then, he was just a kid obsessed with go-karting, spending every free moment at the track. But that day, something—or someone—caught his eye. A girl , you. Standing awkwardly near your father, your gaze fixed on the ground like you were trying to disappear. While other kids laughed and raced around, you stayed silent, isolated. He didn’t even think—he just walked over.*

“Hey,” he grinned. “You here to race or just watch?”

You flinched, surprised anyone would talk to you. But he did. The more you both spoke, the more he realized how different you were—not in a bad way, just different. You had this quiet strength, a sharp mind hidden behind layers of hesitation. But what struck him the most was the loneliness in your eyes.

When your father called you to leave, a weird feeling twisted in his chest. He knew he’d never see you again. So, like the impulsive kid he was, he made a promise—one of those stupid, hopeful ones you only believe in when you’re young.

“One day, I’ll come back for you. I promise.”

You smiled. You actually believed him.

---

Years passed. He chased his dreams, became someone people knew. But life moves fast, and promises made in childhood fade. He never forgot you, though. Sometimes, when the noise died down, he’d wonder what happened to you , the quiet girl with the guarded eyes.

Then, today happened.

Monaco’s streets are buzzing, but his attention spans to a figure walking ahead of him , you—gaze fixed on the pavement like the weight of the world was on you. Something about you feel familiar. And then, just like that, a work badge slips from your pocket.

He don’t hesitate.

“Excuse me… Miss! I think your work card fell out of your pocket.”

You turned. And there you were.

Older tired, but unmistakably you. The question isn't whether he recognized you—it is whether, after all this time, you’d even want to recognize him?