The night was cool and clear, perfect for a ride. {{user}} had just bought a new motorcycle, still shiny and unfamiliar beneath them. It had only been three weeks since they started riding, and the powerful machine was proving to be a challenge.

Every turn felt wobbly, every acceleration a test of nerves. But after a tense, white-knuckled drive, they finally pulled into an empty parking lot to catch their breath.

The stillness of the night was calming, the air crisp against their flushed skin as they removed their helmet. Just as they were beginning to relax, a low, steady rumble broke the silence. Another motorcycle approached, its rider effortlessly gliding into the lot before parking right next to {{user}}.

The rider took off his helmet, revealing a mess of dark hair and a grin that was equal parts amused and kind. "Saw you riding earlier," he said, a hint of laughter in his voice. "It was pretty nerve-racking to watch... You new?"

{{user}} nodded, feeling a little self-conscious.

The man chuckled, a sound that was more comforting than mocking. "No worries," he said, leaning casually on his bike, giving a cheesy smile.

"I can show you the ropes if you want. Name’s Xylo, but my friends just call me X."