LSTRM Prologue

Content Warning: This work is intended for mature (NC17) audiences. If you are younger, please kindly leave this site.
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Bang!

Thud! Thud! Thud!

“Hey! What the hell’s wrong with my car?!”

On a busy street in Bangkok, a small European car was crawling behind another vehicle at a snail’s pace, stuck in evening gridlock. Suddenly, a loud explosion erupted from the front right tire, followed by the grating sound of the wheel scraping against the asphalt. The car began to tremble slightly, startling the driver into a yelp. His hands clenched the steering wheel, too nervous to crane his neck out the window.

One thing was clear: Rain was freaking out!!!!

For the 18-year-old who had just gotten his driver’s license three months ago and had borrowed his Pa’s car less than two months back, a blown tire felt like an outright disaster.

Screeeech!

“Shit! Don’t rush me! Stop rushing me! What am I supposed to do first?!”

Panicking and paralyzed, a thought suddenly flashed in his mind:

Oh right! Pa said to turn on the hazard lights no matter what happens.

The moment his brain processed this, Rain slammed the hazard light button. The driver behind him seemed to get the hint, turning on their signal to overtake. He sighed in relief. But since he was stuck in the middle lane with heavy traffic, he couldn’t just stop dead. The rookie driver tried to ease the car toward the roadside, but...

Plop plop plop

“WTF!”

Rain could only mutter that single word as the sky decided to pile on—raindrops smacking the windshield like mocking laughter. He wanted to shake his fist at the heavens and scream, Haven’t I suffered enough?!

Now, the drivers behind him knew something was wrong with his car. But… What the hell do I do next?!

There was only one option left.

“Paaaaa! Help me!”

Time to call his beloved Bpǎa.

Knock knock knock.

Gasp!

Before Rain could dial his Pa, a sharp rapping on the window made him jump. He turned, trembling, to see a man in head-to-toe black leather, straddling a hulking motorcycle. The rider’s helmet flickered with red LED patterns as he leaned down menacingly. Rain’s stomach dropped.

Did I piss someone off?!

Normally, Rain would’ve floored it to escape. But with his shredded tire thud-thud-thudding against the road, all he could do was blink back tears.

Knock knock.

Big-Bike Hia rapped harder this time, jabbing a gloved finger at the ruined tire.

Plop plop plop

“Huh?!”

Rain blurted, struggling to hear the muffled voice outside over the pounding rain. Without thinking, he rolled down the window and shouted into the storm:

“What’d you say?!”

When he asked, Big-Bike Hia flipped up his helmet visor, revealing only sharp, hawk-like eyes.

“Up ahead, there’s a detour. Ease the car over and park there. I’ll check your tire.”

“REALLY?!”

Rain slammed the brakes, hands gripping the window frame, eyes wide with desperate hope. Big-Bike Hia paused briefly, then nodded twice.

“I’ll cover you from behind.”

With that, the rider of the hulking motorcycle let Rain inch the car forward, then followed closely, flashing his own hazard lights to signal trouble to other drivers. For a moment, Rain almost smiled—until a chilling thought hit him:

Wait… What if this is a setup to rob me?

The Bangkok teen, bombarded daily by his mom’s forwarded LINE alerts about highway muggings, shuddered. But he quickly rationalized: This area’s packed with cars—if anything happens, it’ll be all over Twitter. Guaranteed.

Screw it. Even if I call Pa, he won’t get here till midnight. Gotta risk it.

Rain glanced nervously at the rearview mirror. Big-Bike Hia had effortlessly blocked other cars, clearing a path for him to swerve left safely. Despite the thud-thud of the shredded tire fraying his nerves, the rookie driver managed to limp the car to the detour area.

Okay, I survived the drive… but will I survive this biker?

He peeked again through the mirror. The leather-clad man had parked his gleaming motorcycle behind Rain’s car, flashing hazard lights to alert oncoming traffic. Then, with long strides, he approached the driver’s side and rapped sharply on the window. Rain flinched.

“Y-yes?”

“Your tire’s blown. Got a spare?”

Thank god he’s not a total psychopath!

Though still wary of the stranger—and the daily robbery warnings his Mâe bombarded him with on LINE—Rain decided to gamble. He popped the trunk, revealing a pristine spare tire and a full set of tools.

All Bpǎa’s stuff… not like I’ve ever used any of it.

“Will this work?”

“Ever changed a tire before?” the stranger asked.

Click-click. Rain was silent.

“…That answers it,” Big-Bike Hia muttered dryly, already grabbing the jack.

“Go wait in the car. The rain’s about to get worse. I’ll handle this.” Big-Bike Hia muttered under his breath, glancing at the sky.

“But…”

“You don’t know how. You’ll just be in the way.”

Then teach me, damn it!

Rain wanted to snap back, but the man’s piercing glare—combined with the rain now hammering his skull—left him speechless. He slumped into the car, defeated, as the stranger jacked up the front end. Click-click. In just a few moves, the car lifted effortlessly.

This guy’s a total pro.

Splat splat splat…

The rain refused to relent. Rain craned his neck, watching nervously. Without Big-Bike Hia’s waterproof leather gear and sleek helmet, he’d be soaked to the bone—pants included. On impulse, Rain scrambled to the backseat, grabbed an umbrella, and stepped out.

Snap!

“I can’t help with the tire, but… I can keep you dry. Need anything else?”

He held the umbrella over the Big-Bike Hia, who’d already yanked off the shredded tire and was slotting in the spare with practiced ease. The man paused, glancing up. For a split second, Rain swore he saw a smile soften those hawk-like eyes. Then, without a word, Big-Bike Hia bent down again and pulled off his helmet.

“Hold this for me, kid.”

Rain hastily cradled the helmet in one arm, surreptitiously studying the man hunched over the tire. Even bent double, his broad-shouldered frame towered, the muscles of his back flexing visibly beneath his leather jacket as he tightened the bolts. His dark hair was tied carelessly at the nape—a messy knot that only amplified his rough-edged aura.

Any fear of being robbed had evaporated, replaced by pure awe. Holy hell, this guy’s cool.

A hulking dude who rode a big bike and changed tires like a pro? Peak masculinity, right there.

Rain glanced between the sleek motorcycle and the man now wiping grease off his hands. Despite the sharp eyes and blunt tone, he’d stumbled into a guardian angel. How many times in life did that happen? A grin crept across his face.

“Thanks a ton, Hia,” Rain blurted. “If you hadn’t stopped, I’d still be hyperventilating in the middle lane.”

“Learn basic car maintenance if you’re gonna drive,” the man grunted. “Don’t just panic when shit breaks. Done.”

Rain winced at the scolding but nodded eagerly, too relieved to care. His car was alive again—that’s all that mattered.

As the man stood to his full height, Rain suddenly felt microscopic. But what truly stunned him wasn’t the height difference—it was the sharp, angular face now staring back.

“Step back. Gonna stash this.”

Thud!

Rain stumbled as Big-Bike Hia hauled the shredded tire into the trunk. Then he thrust a grease-streaked hand toward him.

“My helmet.”

But all Rain managed to blurt out was—

“Damn, he’s hot!”

He was certain even the most jaded seniors on campus would’ve gasped the same.

Big-Bike Hia wasn’t just tall—his hair, loosely tied at his nape, framed a face sharp enough to cut glass. Without the helmet, those hawk-like eyes, razor-edged brows, and a nose that belonged on a Greek statue left Rain speechless. The faint stubble and thin, stern lips only amplified the effect. How much DNA luck does one guy need to look this good?!

With a face like that, you could charm anyone.

“Thanks,” the man said dryly.

Rain snapped back to reality, clapping a hand over his mouth like he’d been slapped. His eyes darted wildly, realizing he’d just vocalized his thirst over a total stranger—like some fangirl at a boyband concert. To his horror, the stoic biker cracked a smirk that sent his heart… thudding.

“Thanks for the compliment. Now, my helmet.”

Thunk.

Rain froze as that unfairly perfect face leaned in, close enough for him to count the raindrops clinging to the man’s lashes. He nearly shoved him back, but Big-Bike Hia’s calloused hand yanked the helmet free. A gust of wind carried the scent of sporty cologne, and Rain’s gaze dropped reflexively.

Why am I avoiding eye contact?!

All he knew was his chest felt like a bird trapped in a thunderstorm.

The unfairly hot hia straightened up, sliding his helmet back on. Rain finally remembered how to breathe.

“And don’t go popping tires on the roadside again. Get moving—you’ll catch a cold in this rain.”
Rain nodded robotically, hesitating. Should I wait for him?

“Get. In. The. Car. Now.”

“Y-yes! Thanks again!”

He scrambled into the driver’s seat, tossing the soggy umbrella aside. A glance in the rearview mirror showed Big-Bike Hia still straddling his machine, lingering. Rain swore the man’s hidden gaze burned through the helmet visor, locked onto his car. The rain thickened, and he knew—if I don’t leave first, he won’t either. Gunning the engine, he pulled away, biting back a grin so wide it hurt.

One last peek in the mirror: Big-Bike Hia raised a gloved hand in farewell, then revved his Ducati onto the parallel exit, vanishing into the storm. As for Rain?

“HOLY SHIT, HE’S COOL!!!”

He whooped, pounding the steering wheel. It felt like seeing a knight in shining armor—except way better, because this knight rode a fucking Ducati in 2018!

What kind of guy even is he?! Legendary.