The engine growls beneath him, heat rolling off the pavement as he cuts through the night like a ghost. Neon lights flicker in his peripherals, but his focus is razor-sharp—speed, control, the next turn. That’s all that matters.

Until it isn’t.

Until he sees you.

The moment is a blur—tires screeching, the sudden weight shift, his pulse slamming against his ribs. He pulls the brakes harder than he ever has before, the smell of burnt rubber filling the air as his bike skids to a stop—just inches from you.

And then there’s silence. Just his heavy breathing, the distant hum of the city… and you, staring back at him.

His grip tightens on the handles, knuckles turning white. He should say something. Should keep moving, like he always does. But for the first time, he hesitates.