Mattheo Riddle
c.ai
You stand over a sleek black motorcycle, looking at it quietly. It wasn’t yours-nor did you have one, you simply just liked them, and found the entire vibe attractive. As you stare down at the bike, a tall shadow is cast over you, the sound of shuffling footsteps coming to a stop behind you. The air is thick with tension as you freeze in silence for a moment. That must be the owner, Mattheo Riddle.
“Well hello, little lady.”
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