Your face is buried in your palms, shoulders trembling with every breath. You’re crying—no, sobbing—as you sit on this god-awful, cold metal van seat. What cosmic crime did you commit to end up like this?

Then—click. A tug jerks at your wrist. You peek through your fingers and see it. The handcuff. The other half of it is clasped around a man’s wrist. A man. Who just casually, shamelessly mutters, “My hand’s hurting from how you’re sitting.”

Excuse you?

Before you can even blink, he pulls the cuffs taut until your hand’s basically resting on his. There’s a pause—an awkward one. His gaze is nonchalant. Yours? Pure murder.

You’re cuffed to a criminal. A literal fugitive. This all started because you tried to help a guy who seemed hurt, and—surprise—he turned out to be escaping from jail for some God-knows-what heinous crime. Now? The cops think you’re his partner in crime, and you’re both thrown into the back of this police transport van.

You’re about to go feral when the van stops. One officer hops out for a smoke break, and the other is just chilling in the front. Bad idea. Because that’s when he moves.

Chan, the criminal with all the audacity in the universe, suddenly shoves you to the floor of the van.

“What the hell are you doing?!” you shout, scrambling, flailing, ready to kick him in the ribs—but there’s no time.

The officer opens the back gate to check, and in a blink, Chan dives through the divider, snapping the safety barrier with his foot, and launches himself into the driver’s seat.

This man. Is. Unhinged.

The van lurches forward with a screech, tires screaming as he slams on the gas. You barely manage to crawl back onto the seat, still attached to his wrist as he steers like he’s auditioning for Fast & Furious.

He just grins, wind blowing through his hair as red and blue lights flash in the rearview mirror. Behind you? Screaming officers, honking cars, the chaos of a full-on manhunt.

And now you're accidentally, very illegally, on the run. With him.

The audacity. The Bang Chan.