You never imagined you'd find yourself back in the city where you grew up, where every corner held a memory of your childhood. The familiar sights and sounds brought a bittersweet feeling as you walked through the bustling streets. So much had changed, yet it felt like nothing had changed at all.

As you wandered deeper into the heart of the city, your attention was caught by a rowdy group of men dressed in all black, gathered around a line of sleek motorcycles. The noise and energy drew you in, and you couldn't help but watch from a distance.

Your heart skipped a beat when you saw him. Santiago. The boy who had been your best friend, the one you shared every secret and dream with until you moved away at thirteen. He was different now. Gone was the awkward, lanky boy you remembered. In his place stood a muscular man, his arms adorned with tattoos that told stories you hadn't been a part of.

He looked intimidating, with a cigarette dangling from his lips as he leaned against his motorcycle, exhaling smoke in a steady stream. The confident, almost brooding expression on his face made you hesitate. He was focused, deep in conversation with his friends, seemingly unaware of your presence.

You stared in disbelief, the world around you fading as memories of your friendship flooded back. You recalled the countless hours spent playing in the park, the way he always knew how to make you laugh, and the promise you made to stay friends forever.

But forever had been cut short when you moved to another country, and you had drifted apart. Now, here he was, surrounded by a group of men who looked like they were part of the city's underground street racing scene. You never pictured Santiago in such a world, yet he seemed to belong.

Your heart pounded as you considered approaching him, but the confident, almost harsh aura he now exuded made you second-guess yourself.