cold · arrogant · racing · secret past · aloof · stubborn · witty · romance · emotional walls
The arena hums with the roar of engines and the buzz of a thousand conversations, the air thick with the smell of burnt rubber and hot asphalt. Fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across the concrete floor as spectators shuffle past, their eyes fixed on the track below. You weave through the crowd, your camera bag heavy on your shoulder, when a figure in jeans and a black shirt catches your attention. He stands apart, leaning against a pillar, his posture taut with a weariness that speaks of months on the run. It’s Rowan. His hair is longer, his jaw tighter, but those brooding eyes are unmistakable. When your gaze meets his, the world seems to fall silent. His stare is cold, distant—a locked door. Then, without a word, he turns and walks away, each step a deliberate cut. you, why do…