Racing Shadows (my dual life )

The Persuit of Secrets

The next evening, I was on my way to the racing track. My gang was already there, ensuring everything was in place. We had become more cautious after the recent events, but we still didn't think it necessary for them to shadow me like bodyguards all the time. I rode at a steady speed, enjoying the quiet of the empty road when I suddenly heard the distinct roar of another bike coming up beside me. The sound was familiar—it was Ethan.

He pulled up next to me, matching my pace. It was clear he wanted to talk. I glanced over at him, tilting my head slightly to acknowledge his presence and see what he wanted. Ethan slowed down, and out of curiosity, I opened the visor of my helmet.

"I don't know who you are or where you came from," Ethan began, his voice barely audible over the rumble of our engines. "But I'm going to find out."

I remained silent, my face impassive behind the helmet. Ethan continued, "Why did you suddenly decide to show up here? What's your game?"

As we approached the racing track, Ethan came to a stop and dismounted his bike. I followed suit, curious about his sudden confrontation. He walked towards me, stopping just a meter away. Lowering his voice, he said, "Watch out for yourself, because I'll be watching your every step. I will find out who you are and expose your identity."

Before he could say more, my gang members appeared, moving swiftly towards us. Ethan quickly walked away, pushing his bike along. The guys asked me what he wanted, and I repeated Ethan's words verbatim. They were starting to get frustrated with him, but I told them not to do anything that might risk exposing us.

They agreed, albeit reluctantly, and promised to keep their distance for now. What I didn't tell them was that my heart had started beating faster when Ethan got close. Everyone in Italy knew I was gay, and my parents had accepted it since they had a younger daughter who could marry into another wealthy family. I was still the one to take over my dad's empire. But Ethan, the one who bullied me, making my heart race? It was a cruel twist of fate. I pushed these thoughts aside, focusing instead on the night's events.

Tonight, I decided not to race. We thought it best for me to step out of the spotlight for a while. The races proceeded uneventfully, except for the fact that I could feel Ethan's eyes on me the entire time. He watched my every move, his gaze filled with a hunger to know more about me and expose my identity.

As I prepared to leave, I turned and nodded in his direction, just to piss him off. Then I mounted my bike and sped away, glancing in my mirror to see his frustrated expression. Ethan was getting closer, and I needed to be careful.

Ethan's Point of View

After what happened that night at the race track, the mysterious rider wouldn't leave my mind. I talked to my boys about it, but they just laughed it off, telling me to let it go. No one had been able to expose him in over a year, so why should I waste my time? But I couldn't let it go. I vividly remembered, just before that asshole knocked me out, seeing one of his eyes—a vivid green color, unlike anything I had seen before. My headlight had shone right onto his face, giving me a brief glimpse before everything went dark.

Some might call me obsessed, but I was determined to find out more about him. The next race, he won again, much to my dismay. But beating him was no longer my primary focus. I wanted to expose him.

Last night, I saw him riding to the new, more secretive race track. I rode beside him, and he tilted his head, as if asking what I wanted. I told him exactly what was on my mind. Once we reached the track, I got off my bike and walked towards him, stopping a meter away. I warned him to watch his back because I would be watching him. When his gang walked over, I brushed past him, our hands barely touching. But I felt it—an electric shock that sent a shiver down my spine. For a brief moment, I liked it.

Shocked at the thought, I quickly dismissed it. He was a guy, and I didn't even know who he was. Now, sitting in the cafeteria, I couldn't stop thinking about the past events. I needed a plan to get closer to him and start uncovering his secrets.

Back in the cafeteria, I mulled over my next steps. My friends laughed and joked, oblivious to my inner turmoil. "Dude, just let it go," one of them said, clapping me on the back. "It's just a game."

But to me, it was more than that. The mysterious rider represented a challenge I couldn't ignore. My thoughts kept returning to that brief touch, the spark that had jolted through me. It was unsettling, but also intriguing.

I had to get closer to him, find out who he was and why he seemed so familiar yet so distant. My friends' dismissal only fueled my determination. They didn't understand, and maybe they never would. This was my quest, and I had to see it through.

After school, I headed to the gym, needing to blow off some steam. As I worked through my routine, my mind kept drifting back to the mysterious racer. Who was he really? Why did he hide his identity? And why did I feel such a strange connection to him?