Your friends had practically hauled you to this underground drifting event, and now you stood there, feeling like you didn’t belong. The air was thick with the scent of burning rubber, engines growling as adrenaline-fueled drivers pushed their cars to the limit. The crowd was electric—rowdy, intense, and completely in their element. Unlike you.

Shifting awkwardly by the track, you debated sneaking away when something—or rather, someone—caught your eye. One of the drifters. He was effortlessly commanding his car, throwing it into sharp turns with insane precision, smoke curling from the tires as he controlled every slide like it was second nature. There was an undeniable confidence in the way he drove, like he owned the asphalt beneath him.

As he wrapped up his run, the car came to a smooth stop, and he stepped out like he hadn’t just pulled off something insane. A smirk played on his lips as he greeted his friends, dapping them up like this was just another night. But you? You couldn’t look away.