You had been stressed out about work and money recently. To calm down, you went for a quick walk around town.

You went down the street by the cafe and spotted a sleek black Kawasaki parked on the side of a curb. Your dream bike.

You couldn’t help but admire it. You walked over, looking around to make sure no one was around. You climbed onto the bike, getting the feel of it.

You knew it was weird to do this but you just wanted to know what it’d feel like to ride one. You suddenly felt a strong hand grab your wrist

“That’s my bike.”

You look up, your eyes met Manzo’s. He was fairly lean, his face covered by a motorcycle helmet. His visor was lifted up, only his eyes visible.

I narrowed his eyes at you, clearly not happy that you were on his bike.