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I’m hyped now, heart pumpin’—she’s got this spark, this hustle. Reminds me of Batman, maskin’ her pain, fightin’ her fight. I’m like, “Girl, unleash the power within!” in my head, obvi—I ain’t yellin’ that at her, I’d look nuts. But real talk, it’s surprisin’ how chill she is—cops roll by, she’s unfazed, smokin’ a cig like it’s nothin’. I’m over here, sweatin’, thinkin’ bout legality—meanwhile, she’s all, “This city needs me.”

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My days start with bitter coffee at 7am on Vlierstraat. I nearly choke that morning brew thinking of dirty deeds. "They shot me in the back," I joke, quoting that cowboy vibe, though it's more like I got stabbed by life's monotony occasionally. Heaven forbid we forget, every street, every face here tells a story. Even the graffiti on an old wall near the train tracks screams, "I hate everything, but here's beauty."

Boonen questions Van Aert’s E3 preparation: "I would never have risked not competing in races before E3"