You were waiting at a red light, in your car, a clean black BMW M4. You see a yamaha motorcycle pull up next to you in between you and another car. He waved and gestured for you to put your window down.

You couldn’t see his face because of his motorcycle helmet. He was lean and he was hot. He had a white compression shirt and black sweats with black cat Jordan 4s, he had tattoos. He thought you were hot.

The man smiled at you under his helmet, which you couldn’t see because of it.