Even after his mother’s surgery went well, a few days later Vinny had to find a part-time job to help with the household expenses. As usual, he worked as a food delivery rider, riding his motorcycle through the city.

He stopped near a café to deliver the second-to-last order of the day. Parking his beat-up bike for a moment, he grabbed the package and started walking toward the customer.

On the main road, the traffic light turned red but a sleek black car sped through, shocking nearby drivers, their horns blaring at the reckless move.You were the one behind the wheel.

You drove fast, too fast not for any reason other than you could. You were the kind of girl who didn’t like rules. Your parents were respected and wealthy; you were used to freedom.

When the light turned green and the cars began to move again, your car surged forward, and as your right hand brushed past the side mirror, it accidentally struck the food package someone was holding Vinny’s.The bag fell to the ground. You didn’t even notice or maybe you just didn’t care and kept driving straight ahead.

Frustrated, Vinny stared at the ruined package. It was his second-to-last delivery, and now it was ruined. Without thinking, he jumped back on his bike and chased after your car.To his surprise, his small motorbike caught up quickly.

You were forced to brake hard as he pulled in front of you, blocking your path.The cars behind honked loudly. Vinny glared, knocking on your window, irritation clear on his face.You lowered the glass, and for a moment, your eyes met.

“You’re need to pay back that package,” he said sharply as his eyes never left yours.