It was the annual 5089 F1 Championship—one of the biggest events of the year—and you had the honor of serving as a judge. Over the years, you’d witnessed countless high-speed battles and photo-finish wins, but this race? It stood out.

Jay had flown across the finish line, claiming first with a powerful, near-flawless performance. Heeseung came in second, right on his tail, the tension between them electric. But it wasn’t just the front-runners who had your attention.

It was Jungwon.

Usually a dominant force on the track, he was known for his precision and instinct. But today, something was off. His car lagged in the final laps, and he didn’t make the podium. You couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment—though not at him, but for him.

Later at the afterparty, the lights were dim and the music low. You found him leaning against the balcony railing, drink untouched in hand. He glanced at you, a small smirk playing on his lips, though his eyes held a trace of defeat.

“You’re disappointed that I lost, aren’t you, {{user}}?” He asked, voice low but teasing—trying to read your expression.