Chapter 1

He speeds up. The engine of his dirt bike revving. Gravels and soil are spewed from where the rear tire left a deep impression on the muddy track.

He speeds up.

As the engine roars Kwon Jiyong sneers. The sneer of a winner. A sneer that comes up when he knows he will take the lead. He gains more speed in less than a few second, using the momentum to pass Hanbin from team Monster in the corner.

Next is Jimmy, an annoying senior who's only weeks away from being too old to race. His seniority doesn't stop Jiyong from planning to take over without mercy though.

The young racer makes a narrow take over. A dangerous move for there's a barely an inch of distance between the two dirt bikes. Jiyong cares not. He doesn't have the time to be scared. On the track, he doesn't befriend fear.

Jimmy loses his balance. Jiyong sneers wider as the corners of his eyes catch the flashy green bike of his opponent totters. Triumphantly, he watches Jimmy and the ugly bike falling to the side.

The crowd cheers as Jiyong hits the finish line first.  With both hands thrown in the air, he cheers with them.

He revs his engine, spinning his bike on the spot, giving the crowd another reason to get loud. The taste of victory is sweet but it barely lasts. As the rush of adrenaline fades, reality sinks in and he starts to feel bitter.

He takes off his helmet, sighing before faking a huge grin. Tabi, his longtime friend that has become his faithful trainer, pull him away into a hearty hug.

“Awesome, G! I don't think I've ever seen a more magnificent comeback. That first corner fall was pretty nasty.” The tall man gives Jiyong's shoulder a jab. The cigarette hanging at the corner of his lips move as he yells to the crowd. “Told ya this man can do it!”

The whole team cheers again. Sandara, the chief medical officer, comes forward and flings herself into Jiyong's arms. “Congratulation!”

“Thank you!” Barely returning the hug, Jiyong gives the pretty girl a small smile.

“You fell hard on that corner,” The girl hold Jiyong's shoulders at arm-length, looking at him worriedly. “You okay?”

“I'm good. Don't worry Dara.” He lies. His right leg hurts. His head spins a little. His heart, it's aching with an unexplainable sense of losing. Dara might be a good medical officer but he doubts the girl can do much about this pain cutting him inside.

“Go.” Tabi pats his back knowingly. Eyes staring as if they can see into Jiyong's troubled mind.

“But..the race?” Jiyong looks at Tabi. He hides nothing from his best friend. The man probably knows Jiyong like he knows the back of his own hand.

“Today is the day.” One more pat lands on Jiyong's back. “Keep your words. Go!”

Jiyong sighs, handing his helmet to Dara as he walks away. He can hear the girl prodding Tabi on why their racer leaves the arena so soon. He can hear Sandara calling his name, begging him to get checked for injury first.

He cares not.

This is the day.

Five hours flight and a one-hour cab ride later, he's there. In front of an apartment he knows by heart, not so looking forward to entering the building.

He looks up to that one window on the fifth floor. Seeing her shadow, imagining her pouring over that old laptop with her hair tied up into a messy bun. It's so easy to see her clearly when he closes his eyes. How she moves about. How she smiles. How she often bites the tip of a pencil when she's in deep thought.

Her image lingers, lives on the back of his mind like a beautiful ghost from the past. The ghost he loves to revisit every now and then because his heart is clutched in her haunting grip.

Jiyong sighs, moving along extremely slowly like his feet are made of lead. If only he could turn back time. If only he could find another way. He has put this dreadful motion to a halt for too long though. Tabi was right, it's time to man up and keeps his words.

This is the day.

He rings the bell once, fidgeting on his feet. Exhaling and inhaling, he braces himself for the storm.

“You're late.” Is her greeting upon seeing him.

“I'm sorry, the race-”

She turns around, not giving him a chance to throw in another excuse. Letting the door open for him, the slim beauty audibly sighs her judgment.

With great pain, Jiyong wacthes her from behind. She's still that same woman who enthralls him by simply breathing. Even from behind, he still can picture her perfection, her little sweet details.

That oversize hoodie she's wearing belonged to him at some point in their nine years of relationship. Those sweatpants, he recognizes them as the pair she merrily bought with 50% discount from the old shop back at her hometown. It's funny how memories about her flooding his mind when she's right there in front of him. When he can just touch her and create new memories instead of imagining.

Who was he kidding? Even with this proximity, he knows she's no longer his to touch.

“Please, sit.” She nods toward the couch. The big brown couch where they spent so many time lounging and fooling around in the past. “I'll go get Jinwoo.”

“He's not asleep yet?” Jiyong gulps, sitting down while staring at the clock. It's nine past ten.

“I told him to wait for