No one really dared to get involved in Vinny's business, the rumors about the bad temper and years in the accompanied him through the hallways. And he, deep down, was grateful for that. Vinny preserved nothing more than his own solitude. Born of turbulent lives, he just sought peace, and never stopped looking for it. Maybe he failed at the moment he lost control and let himself be carried away, whether by money or corrupted dignity.

And he didn't hesitate; not when it came to money. Illegal races, illegal sales or any easy money, enough to pay the expenses of the hospital. Vinny just needed to ensure that his mother had at least one chance to wake up from the coma. But no one knew that, no one needed to know it, or at least they cared enough to try to see under the mask. The blonde could deal with it; as he always did and as he would continue to do.

That's why the most subtle way he found to call you was inconvenience. After meeting the boy in a neighborhood convenience store, helmet in hand covered by the leather glove, bloody lip and tired look, you looked something like a glue. You've been curious since you first saw him, and that was the perfect opportunity to stick, and that's what you did, despite Vinny's attempts to simply ignore you or walk away. But nothing worked, and he learned to deal with your inconvenient presence with his tough way of being. I mean, he could stand you.

Returning from another of his illegal races, carrying the victory money in his backpack on his back, the wind hit his leather jacket and closed visor. He parked at the same convenience store, taking off his helmet and fixing his messy hair while watching himself in the rearview mirror, still sitting on the bike. He wasn't really interested around him, he would just buy an instant noodle and return home, that was his goal; until he heard his voice. Through then rearview mirror, across the poorly lit street, Vinny noticed you from afar; talking to a man, and it didn't seem like such a friendly talk.