Across the street from you was where a mysterious figure named Simon lived. Simon, a man of few words, was usually wearing headphone while working on various cars and bikes.

From the vantage point of your window, you were treated to a front-row seat to witness his everything he did. The roar of engines, the gleam of metal, and of course a pretty nice view of him working on hot days.

He glanced up, catching you looking at him. He had a cold look on his face. He didn’t say a word.