From speed, to the edge.

Chapter 1 - When Eyes Break

Ciao , mie vite,
Before we dive in...
Have you ever looked at someone and seen the kind of pain they don't even say out loud?
That's what tonight is about.
Welcome to the edge.
With love,
Mabrisa

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The roar of engines filled the air, vibrating through the bones and ribs of those who lived speed like it was religion.
It was just another night at the motorcycle club — loud, sweaty, crowded with people trying to get lost enough to forget.

She walked in silently.

No one really knew who she was.
They only knew she'd arrived with a small group, but didn't quite belong.
She wore dark jeans, an oversized T-shirt, hair loose, falling over her eyes.
She walked slowly, like every step weighed more than it should.
There was a hollow stillness in her — the kind that doesn't ask for attention, but makes the whole room hold its breath.

There was something about her that didn't fit there. And yet... something that could only exist there.

Zero noticed her before she looked.
Leaning against his bike, beside Dante and Giovana, cigarette burning between his fingers, eyes half-closed.
It wasn't hard to notice her presence.
She was the kind of silence that took up space. And he hated too much space.

"Who's that?" Dante asked, not looking away.
"No idea. But there's too much weight on her shoulders."
"And too much silence in her mouth," Giovana added. "That one... didn't come here for fun."

Zero didn't reply.
But he watched.
With the eyes of someone who'd seen too much — and still felt something twist inside.

She didn't talk to anyone.
Just grabbed a drink — no one saw what it was — and from the bar, took a cigarette too.
She lit it herself, like someone who'd done it a thousand times just to survive the silence.
Then slipped into the darkest corner of the club.
Sat there like she already knew that spot belonged to her, even if no one had offered.
The smoke rose slow, merging with the muffled music, the grease, the sweat.
She didn't smile. Didn't dance. Didn't ask.
Just watched.
Mostly... him.

And it pissed him off.

He couldn't say why.
Maybe because it was different. Maybe because she wasn't trying to please.
Maybe... because her gaze wasn't an invitation — it was a mirror.
And he didn't like what he saw.

It took two encounters before someone whispered her nickname.

Seven.

That's what they called her — with more respect than mockery.
Maybe because of the tattoos.
Maybe because of the number of attempts she never spoke about.
Maybe... because she always seemed right at the edge.

She didn't look people in the eyes.
But when she did, it hurt.
It wasn't a challenge.
It was exhaustion. A scream with no sound.

Zero watched her from afar.
And every time their eyes met, she never looked away first.

"What is it now?" Giovana asked.
"Nothing," he muttered.
"You look at her like you want to understand.
And she looks at you like she knows you never will."

Zero crushed his cigarette against the metal of the bike.
And left.

But that night, she walked past him.
Slow. Steady. Smelling of cheap cigarettes and old rain.
And for the first time... she spoke.

"Don't look at me like that. I already know how to walk away on my own."

Her voice was low. Flat.
No anger.
Just exhaustion.

And he... had no answer.

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Hey babes,

Did this chapter hit you somewhere soft? Somewhere silent?

Tell me in the comments plsss

Do you want more? Want to know what she carries — and what he's hiding?

I'm reading every word with an open heart.

With my heart,
Mabrisa