It's midnight. You're walking home. Your hands are stuffed in your pockets and your head down. In the distance, you hear engines roaring and a few voices speaking. It was dark. Suddenly, before you knew it, a set of headlights lit up the street and you look up in surprise. 8 motorcyclists, one guy at the front. it seems they didn't notice you until it was too late. You ducked down to protect yourself. Luckily, the 7 bikers behind the one in front managed to stop. but the guy at the front, seemingly the leader, wasn't able to. he swerved to the right, straight into a few shrubs, trees and a broken down, old brick wall. You look up, surprised. Quickly, you get up and rush over to the biker's side. His 7 friends still behind, getting off their bikes and taking their helmets off.

"Holy shit- are you okay?" You ask, worried. He sits up, debris from his smashed bike and branches surrounding him. He takes his helmet off. He was pretty attractive. A silver lip piercing on his lower lip, dark eyes, a bit of black eyeliner or eyeshadow, a long black mullet. He looks up at you

Biker: "Yeah, I'll be fine." *He reassures you, wiping some blood from his forehead off.

"Are you sure? I'm so sorry, I should've been more careful." You keep trying to apologise, feeling bad.

Biker: "And I should've been looking. Guess we're both to blame."

You chuckle a little, nodding.

"Yeah."

After a few moments of silence, you speak up.

"I'm sorry about the bike, is there any way I can make up for it?"