Chapter 10 — New Faces, New Fire
The sun was burning above the wide stretch of asphalt that glistened like polished steel. Engines roared in the distance, echoing off the sleek chrome of racing bikes lined up like beasts before a battle.
"And here comes the Red viper again!" the announcer's voice rang across the packed stands. "Seventh win this season! Let's hear it for JUN!"
The crowd erupted, banners waving in the air, cheers rattling through the air. Juneremoved his helmet slowly, revealing a smirk and windswept hair. He raised his hand, not to wave—but simply to command silence, and somehow the crowd quieted. He didn't need to be loud. He was the flame everyone followed.
On the sidelines, his three closest friends were already waiting.
"Ugh, again? You're gonna kill the suspense if you keep winning like that," Tim whined, pulling off his sunglasses dramatically. "Let me win once. Just once!"
"Try staying on your bike longer than two laps next time," Jun teased, tossing his helmet into Tim's arms.
Tim, the ever-vibrant one, laughed loudly. He was the type who could turn a funeral into a party. Coming from a family that practically owned half the city, he was rich, charming, and reckless with his happiness.
Then came William, leaning casually against his own bike, licking a lollipop and tossing a wink at a group of fans swooning in the stands. "We really need better competition. Even East is getting bored."
East, who stood silently behind him, raised an eyebrow. His black-gloved hands rested on the handles of his midnight-blue Yamaha. He didn't speak much, but his gaze was sharp and always watching.
"Speak for yourself," East murmured in a voice so low only William could hear.
"Ohhh, getting spicy again, aren't we, babe?" William grinned and tugged on East's jacket collar before planting a kiss on his cheek. East's face turned a shade redder, but he didn't pull away.
Their dynamic was always fascinating. East—the introverted, cold son of a mafia patriarch—was deadly serious in public, but around William, he became something softer. William—bold, flirty, loud—was the only one who could make East stumble over his words.
Despite their differences, the four of them shared something deep. They were more than just racers or rebels. They were a family born from adrenaline, survival, and shared scars.
---
Later that night, they celebrated Jun win at their usual bar downtown. The lights were dim, the music was loud, and the drinks were endless.
Jun sat on the leather couch, a drink in hand, watching Tim attempt to flirt with the bartender—again.
"You're wasting your time," William muttered, stealing a fry from Jun 's plate. "She's into older guys. Like, not emotionally-stunted man-babies."
"I'm emotionally developed!" Tim pouted. "I cried last week when I stepped on my sunglasses."
Jun burst into laughter, nearly choking on his drink. "You are the definition of emotionally unstable."
Tim crossed his arms dramatically. "I am not unstable! I'm artistically unbalanced."
William leaned back. "Sure, Van Gogh. Just don't cut off your ear."
Then silence settled for a moment—until East, unexpectedly, spoke.
"About that fight... last week," he said slowly. "The bar brawl. Remember the guy who came out of nowhere?"
"Yeah!" Tim's eyes lit up. "The dude who knocked out three guys in under ten seconds? Who was that?"
"I was too drunk to get a good look," William added, "but man, he had serious skill."
Jun narrowed his eyes. "Yan," he whispered.
"Huh?" Tim looked over. "You remember?"
"No... not really," Jun admitted. "It's just a name that came to me. Yan. It felt... Something!
The table went silent. They exchanged glances but said nothing more. The mystery lingered.
---
The next morning, chaos.
Jun's apartment echoed with laughter, groans, and the sound of three guys attempting (and failing) to make breakfast.
Tim burst into Jun's room without knocking, tossing a pillow at his face. "Wake up, Red viper! Time to suffer in the real world!"
"Go away," Jun groaned.
Tim, never one to follow orders, climbed onto the bed and smacked Jun's butt. "Get up, grandpa!"
From the living room, William yelled, "Tim! Stop harassing the man! You're corrupting his beauty sleep!"
"You mean your beauty sleep," East muttered, walking past with wet hair and a towel draped around his shoulders.
Junsat up finally, rubbing his eyes. "God, you're all insane."
"And you love it," William winked.
---
Downstairs, Jun's aunt had arrived, arms crossed, and eyes blazing with concern.
"Jun," she said sternly, "You didn't call your doctor back. You've skipped two check-ups. And you—" she pointed at William, "—stop letting him drink so much."
"Hey!" William gasped. "Why me?"
"Because you're the enabler."
East, from the corner, nodded solemnly. "She's not wrong."
Jun stood sheepishly, scratching his neck. "Auntie, I'm fine. Really."
"You collapsed year ago from trauma, nearly died, and now you act like it was just a fever!" she scolded, voice trembling.
Her words cut through the fun, dragging the air into silence.
Jun walked over and gently wrapped his arms around her. "I know you worry. I'm okay. I promise."
She sighed into his chest, "You better be. You're all I've got."
Tim sniffled dramatically, "Awww. Can I be part of this family hug?"
William shoved him. "Get your own moment."
---
Later that day, they gathered in the garage—a sleek haven filled with bikes and trophies. Awards lined the shelves. Posters of their races covered the walls.
Tim pointed proudly at a gold plaque. "That's when I beat you, remember?"
"You cheated," Jun said.
"I strategically planned."
East sat at the workbench, checking tire pressure. William leaned beside him, whispering, "Want to go riding tonight?"
"You asking me out on a date?"
"Always."
As the sun dipped below the skyline, the four of them stood in the garage—family, lovers, rivals. And somewhere in Jun's mind... that name echoed again.
Yan.
A na
me without a face. A memory he couldn't place.
But something about it burned inside him.
Something he wasn't ready to remember.