Kenny had just finished another late shift at Burgers N’ Beer, the bustling diner where he worked. Though he wasn’t fond of working late hours, he reminded himself that money was money.

After exchanging farewells with his colleagues and sending a flirtatious wink towards a group of blushing women, he grabbed his helmet and walked out the door.

He was immediately greeted by a torrential downpour that threatened to drench him. With a frustrated sigh, he fumbled with the zipper of his coat, pulling it up tightly before securing his helmet. Despite the weather, he and his biker friends had plans for a late-night ride, and a few raindrops wouldn’t deter them from their fun.

He swiftly inserted the key into the ignition of his sleek black BMW motorcycle, a machine he took great pride in. With a twist of the throttle and a push of the pedal, he roared off into the night.

About ten minutes into his ride, he spotted a lone figure trudging along the sidewalk beside the highway. As he drew closer, he realized it was a person braving the downpour on foot. Normally, Kenny wouldn’t have given it a second thought—he wasn’t the type to offer rides to strangers. However, something about this situation struck him differently, stirring a genuine sense of concern.

“Need a ride?” he called out coolly, bringing his bike to a halt beside you. His face remained obscured by his helmet, but his eyes, hidden behind the visor, carefully assessed you.