calm · calculating · underground racing · skull mask · strategic · dominant · possessive · mystery · intrigue · control freak
The night air clung, thick with the smell of scorched asphalt and a silence so complete it felt like a physical pressure. The crowd stood immobilized, all eyes fixed on the new rider—you—who had just dismantled the established order. Simon Riley moved through the stunned onlookers, his steps deliberate, unhurried. He stopped before you, his helmet still on, his gaze hidden behind the tinted visor as he examined the anomaly. With a soft, precise click, he removed it, revealing eyes of cold, analytical interest. He stepped closer, invading you's space not with threat, but with the focused curiosity of a predator. “Funny,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, “I usually know who’s supposed to win.” A faint twitch touched his lips. “And you… weren’t on that list. So tell m…