Bunny in the Moonlight

Seven Kitkats

Jungkook

The growl of my motorbike filled the quiet night as I sped toward the racing location. The closer I got, the more alive the streets became. The heavy bass of the music pounded in my chest, blending with the faint echoes of laughter and shouts.

I tightened my grip on the handlebars, smirking to myself. I could already feel the rush building.

When I turned the final corner, the scene came into full view—bikes lined up like soldiers, their engines roaring as if in anticipation, and cars scattered along the sidelines with headlights illuminating the street. The air was thick with adrenaline, the tension palpable.

This was it.

As I drove into the crowd, the chatter faded, replaced by the collective hum of curiosity. Who was the guy bold enough to ride straight into the center of their arena?

I stopped my bike abruptly, the tires screeching as the engine roared one last time before I killed it. Sliding off, I let my boots hit the pavement with a satisfying thud.

"Who the hell is this?" someone groaned, their irritation cutting through the murmurs.

I ignored them, reaching for my helmet and pulling it off with deliberate slowness. My hair, damp with sweat, fell across my forehead, and I ran my fingers through it before tossing a challenging look at the crowd.

"Transfer student... move out of the way," a familiar voice growled.

My eyes locked with Jimin's. He stood near the starting line, arms crossed, his glare sharp enough to cut glass. Behind him, Hoseok leaned casually on his shoulder, a cocky smirk plastered across his face.

"I want to join," I said firmly, striding toward the racers.

Laughter erupted from the sidelines.

"What did he just say?" Hoseok's voice boomed, his amusement echoing off the nearby buildings.

"This isn't a game," Jimin warned, his voice low and dangerous. "Leave before I—"

"Everyone... call me Bunny," I interrupted, my voice loud and clear.

A ripple of shock ran through the crowd.

"Bunny?" a girl in a barely-there crop top whispered, leaning toward her friend. "Why does that sound so familiar?"

Her friend, however, looked at me as if I were a ghost. "It is him," she murmured, her voice barely audible.

The racers exchanged glances, their curiosity piqued. Even Jimin's glare faltered as he caught the buzz of whispers.

"So, Bunny..." Yoongi's voice cut through the noise. He stepped forward, his expression unreadable. "Seems like you've been making waves in a few countries, huh?"

I didn't respond. I didn't need to.

Instead, I turned back toward my bike, climbing on and securing my helmet. One by one, the other racers did the same, revving their engines in unison. The noise was deafening, a symphony of power and rebellion.

The flag girl stepped to the side, raising her arms. The crowd erupted into cheers as the signal was given.

I stayed still, letting the others take off first. Their bikes roared down the street, leaving a trail of smoke and excitement in their wake.

This was my game.

Giving them a head start wasn't a handicap—it was a statement. It was my way of showing them just how far ahead I was, even when I started behind.