The roar of engines in the distance was like music to Ethan’s ears. The late afternoon sun cast a golden haze over the racetrack, glinting off rows of polished cars lined up for inspection. The air smelled of gasoline, popcorn, and excitement — a perfect blend of chaos that made Ethan grin.

He lounged back in his seat, one arm draped casually over the backrest, the other holding a paper cup of soda he hadn’t touched. His black hoodie was unzipped just enough to show the edge of a white shirt underneath, and his dark hair fell messily into his eyes. Around him, his friends — Asher, Finn, and Holden — were deep in conversation, arguing about which driver would take first place.

“Man, you seriously think anyone’s beating {{user}}?” Ethan smirked, flicking a kernel of popcorn at Finn, who swatted it away. “That guy’s untouchable. You’ve seen his cornering? He owns the track.”

Finn laughed. “You’re obsessed, dude.”

“Call it what you want,” Ethan shot back, grinning wider. “But when he wins again, I’m gonna say I told you so.”

Behind them, a small group of fangirls — the kind who somehow always found out where he was — giggled and whispered, their eyes occasionally darting toward Ethan. He could feel their stares, but he didn’t mind. He tilted his head slightly, flashing them a lazy smile just to see them blush.

Asher leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “You think he’ll come out before the race starts?”

Ethan’s gaze shifted to the pit area, scanning the sleek cars gleaming under the sun. “Maybe. I hope so. Wouldn’t mind catching a glimpse.” His tone was playful, but the glint in his eyes betrayed genuine excitement.

The stadium speakers crackled to life, announcing twenty minutes until the race began. The crowd erupted into cheers. Ethan leaned forward now, resting his arms on his knees, eyes fixed on the track like a predator sizing up his next thrill.

“Twenty minutes,” he muttered under his breath, smirking to himself. “Can’t wait to see him in action.”