pied piper

50 | Seoul Drift

Music Companion : One of your girls by the weeknd

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WARNING : SMUT AHEAD

The race kicked off - checkered flags splitting in the air, roaring engines, crowd cheering. I stared intently at Mr. Jeon, or rather just...

Jeon.

As soon as the race started, Jeon was the first to move, fooling my gaze, his heavy motorbike vanishing off into the night horizon, others closely tailing behind, attempting to overtake with an intense battle.

The motorbikes rounded the track a dizzying number of times. Around the third time around, Jeon pulled off an extremely steep drift, the ridges if his Panigale brushing against the race tract with a screech, all of it just because he fucking can, as he then went back to speeding down the road.

I gaped in awe, surprise, fucking amazement as he already disappeared into the midnight mist; I could practically taste the fury fueling to the staggering crazy speed.

"That was incredible, holy shit."

"It's just something he does. Sorta like his signature move, y'know?" the man chirped, over the loud boos and hollers of the crowd. "Especially when he has a huge lead, which, of course, he always does."

"How much does he earn for a race?"

"Just as much as you and I will need to spend in our lives."

"That's not a definite answer," I narrowed my eyes, something conjuring in my head even amidst the groundbreaking chaos. "Yknow what?... I'll ask him myself."

"Where are they?" awaiting another lap, I roamed my eyes around in search.

"The last lap is off the race track. They round the police headquarters."

"The what?!"

He grinned, eyeing me for the first time since the race started. "They do it for the kick of it. Jeon was the first to create the legacy."

Of course

It came to no one's surprise when he crossed the finish line first, winning with a gigantic lead.

Oh dear God... Who is he?

Not wanting to overwhelm myself with a plethora of questions just yet, I followed my guard-friend over to the finish line, watching everybody surround him like a deity as soon as he came to a halt.

So that's where the God Complex comes from...

He took his sweet time taking off the leather black gloves that covered parts of his tatted fingers one by one and then finally, his helmet. He shook his messy mullet out, raven strands falling all over his dark eyes, double eyelids emphasizing the undeniable charm, nose standing tall along with glistening red lips. As if knowing right away, he turned his head, our eyes colliding.

Holy fuck.

My breath hitched.

Masking his anger, not giving me any attention, he smirked at the crowd with a confidence that easily flew with overboard arrogance. I wondered if he had always done this to the other girls at the race, Jeon was a Casanova after all.

But the question arises: was it before me or after me?

The strident cheering which was once masking the music gradually stifled, everyone falling silent as I cocked my head to the side, my eyes dimming before I began walking, not forgetting to sway my hips for the watchers.