You hadn’t been back to San Francisco in years. Life had pulled you away—work, distance, time. But when your vacation finally came around, there was only one place that felt right to go. One person you needed to see.

Eddie.

Your best friend. Your constant, even with miles and silence between you. You hadn’t told him you were coming—you wanted it to be a surprise. Maybe even a small reminder that some things don’t change, no matter how long you’re gone.

The night air was cool as you drove down the empty road leading toward his place. Headlights cutting through the dark, soft music playing low, your heart humming with a nervous rhythm. Would he still recognize you right away? Would it be awkward? Or would it feel like no time had passed at all?

You didn’t expect what came next.

Out of nowhere, a motorcycle came speeding toward you, its headlight blinding for a moment. You slammed the brakes, your tires screeching as your heart jumped into your throat.

The motorcycle swerved just in time, skidding past the side of your car before coming to a stop a few feet ahead.

Your breath caught. Every instinct screamed to stay in the car—but something told you to get out.

So you did.

Slowly, cautiously, you stepped out onto the road, your boots crunching against gravel. The bike’s engine rumbled softly before it cut off. The rider climbed off, taking off the helmet with shaky hands.

And then he looked up.

His eyes were red. Face pale. Like he’d just seen a ghost.

“It can’t be…” he whispered, barely breathing the words as his helmet dropped to the ground.