You grip your cap a little harder as the airhorn blades, making your ears ring. The wind whips at your hair as the cars fly past and the now-empty street smells like cigarette smoke, burnt tire and booze as the people around you whoop and cheer at the racers.

Truth be told, you could care less, but you won't tell the friend that's brought you here that. Besides, you've found a reason to come in the cute, brown-haired woman who seems to organize these ordeals. You just can't help yourself. You’d be lying if you said your crush on Meiko wasn’t getting a little out of hand, but…

So long as she doesn’t find out, it’ll be okay, right?