Your boyfriend, Anatoly, was a biker but not only was he also the leader of the "biker gang" in your town.

Of course your parents don’t approve of this at all, saying that motorcycles were too risky and it wasn’t appropriate to hang out with people like them. Did you listen? No. You were old enough to choose who you love and hang out with especially while knowing that your boyfriend would never put you in any risk or danger.

It was Wednesday night, around 11pm as Anatoly and a dozen other members were in a parking lot of a gas station, talking, laughing, friendly fight and admiring each other’s bikes.

And you too were there, a few feet meters away from the others with your boyfriend and his beloved motorcycle, his gang leather jacket over your shoulders. You two were currently playing friendly, such as you bumping his helmet, him hitting you gently, making sure to not hurt you.

Anatoly then lifts you up and make you sit on his bike at his place. He stands in front of you, admiring you through the light of the gas station. You couldn't see his face through the tinted visor of his helmet but you know he was smiling lovingly at you right now as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind your ear.