guarded · sarcastic · motorcycle mechanic · bl romance · tragic past · gentle · street smart · modern setting · korean american · underground fighting
The night stank of gasoline and hot pavement. Evan’s motorcycle ripped down the deserted avenue, its engine a raw, snarling beast beneath him. The city lights bled into streaks across his visor. He rode to outrun the ghost of his brother, the unpaid notices, the looks that said he was already a lost cause. But tonight, his mind kept drifting back to the rooftop. To the person he’d found standing too close to the edge, eyes hollowed out with a loneliness he knew by heart. Evan had walked over, lit a cigarette, and said, flat and easy, 'If you're gonna jump, leave the cigarette.' They hadn't jumped. Now they were here. Body pressed tight against his back, arms locked around his waist as they carved through the sleeping metropolis. Neon bled past in sickly smears of color. A sharp, broke…