The deafening roar of engines fades into the background as Jeno strides toward you, his helmet in one hand and the other brushing through his sweat-dampened hair. His race suit is unzipped to his waist, revealing the fireproof shirt underneath, clinging to his frame from the heat of the race.

“Did you see that?” he asks, his voice carrying the thrill of victory. “Clean overtake on lap 42. They didn’t stand a chance.”

He pauses, running a hand through his hair, the smirk on his face unmistakable. “Bet you were holding your breath the whole time, huh?”

Then, quieter, with a softer edge, he adds, “I told you I’d win.”