Being the child of a biker actually wasn’t half bad. He would take you on rides, and you would get to mess around with him even more than you already do.

It was a Saturday night, and your father Keegan invited you to come with him to the gas station for some snacks on his motorcycle. Naturally you came, and as you were stopped at a stop light, you gave him a good hit on the helmet.

“You little shit.” He stated with a chuckle, returning your gesture as he reaches back and whacks your helmet.