May sauntered into the motorcycle engine repair and maintenance Open air store, clothed in a black leather outfit, and her curly dark hair casually tied up in a ponytail.
The exterior part of the shop has a long row of motorcycles jam-packed by the side either for repair or for sales as some of them were brand new.
A plump man with a round face covered with beard rushed towards her with a big smile outstretched on his face, seemingly familiar with May.
"Ha ha, you have returned?"
"Hm," May gave him a short nod.
"My lady?"
"Don't worry, we have been keeping her on strict maintenance. Its engine and lights are perfectly in good condition." The man said with a bright smile plastered on, as he looked expectantly at her probably hoping for praise.
"Where?"
The man's expression turned to confusion, before immediately fading away. "I would lead you to it," he quickly said, turning to the opposite direction. They entered a room which looked like a storage unit as a result of various parts of motorcycles seen. At the farthest end of the room was a motorcycle -like shape covered with green leather garment.
The man hurriedly took off the garment revealing a very beautiful and eye-catching motorcycle in a dark and silver appeal. The motorcycle stood elegantly with a silver helmet placed firmly on it.
May took a step forward, one can't help but notice the fierce spark glinting in her translucent dark eyes. Standing closer in front of the machine, she exhaled, taking the helmet. She started touching it all over, just like a mother searching for injuries on her child.
After a few minutes of caressing the motorcycle, she climbed up to it, requesting for the keys which the man quickly handed over. Inserting the key into the ignition switch and powering on the motorcycle, It started with a powerful noise with the dazzling headlights gleaming in full strength.
Perhaps, impressed with what she saw and heard, May nodded in satisfaction. The plump man who has been anxiously waiting, breathed a sigh of relief
She shoved her left hand into the pocket of her leather jacket taking out a plastic card which appeared to be a debit card. She throws it to the man who enthusiastically catched it with wide teeth.
"3644," May said.
"Thank you! Thank you! Boss!"
May hummed in response, riding off with the motorcycle.
"She has not changed one bit," the man commented, glancing back at the plastic card in his hand. He grinned delightfully as he shoved it into his pocket returning back to his previous work.
Stellan pedaled down the street of Novland, his bicycle jingling along. The basket attached to the front of his bicycle was filled with vegetables and fruits. He was dressed in a simple white t-shirt and faded blue jeans, his long dark hair flying along with him.
The customer, he had went to for delivery, told him that he was no longer interested in buying, lazily apologizing even went to the extent of blaming Stellan himself, saying that he was always late, also that the vegetables were already shrunk as a result of being under the sun for a long time.
Stellan had left, without saying a word, he had seen a lot of those flip cover people who say one thing but do the other. Sometimes, they would casually try to bargain, to lower the price, like it wasn't already low enough. And when he would try to protest, they would pretend to leave as if they were no longer interested, resulting in his poor grandmother selling it to them.
What can we do? His grandma would say. Let them take it, it's better than leaving it here to rot.
Stellan knew that those guys always act like they were performing a favor to them by even sparing a glance at their vegetables and fruits store located amidst bigger and upgraded shops. That's why his grandma won't risk chasing away the fewer people who buy from them. So Stellan had no option but to endure these treatments by swallowing down his protests, promising himself and his grandma that things would soon be and at that time they won't have to sell anything.
Notwithstanding, just like there are bad and good people in the world; there are also people who appreciate the fresh fruit and veggies they sell. Those people, they would proudly call their customers.
'koi!' the bicycle sling down the lane attempting to somersault before Stellan could know what is about to happen. He had tried to avoid falling by grasping tightly to the handle of his bike but it turned futile. Therefore, Stellan jumped off the bike, landing violently on the ground. Thereby, grazing his wrist.
The bicycle crashed violently onto the brick wall falling adjacently to the ground with the vegetables sprayed on the interlocked floor.
Recovering himself, Stellan stood up, without bothering to shrug off dirt from his body, rushed to his bike, examining to know whether there's any serious damage before staring at the pathetic vegetables plastered on the ground.
"Yo! Yo! What am I seeing?" A voice said from behind while his companions chuckled.
Stellan turned to them, without any hint of surprise in his eyes like this wasn't the first time. However, his palm balled up to a fist.
There were four of them, all dressed ruggedly which screamed teen hoodlums for they all seemed to be in their late teens.
"What? Are you going to hit me? For shooting your worn out bicycle?" The one who appeared to be the leader with spiked up orange hair raising his brows questioned, waving the catapult in his hand and the rest laughed.
Stellan released his palm, taking his bicycle, he tried to leave.
"I heard you recently got a scholarship into that Crescendo college. If that old woman wasn't running out her mouth, I wouldn't have known. That hurts me,"
Stellan ignored them, pushing his bicycle.
"Hey! Just that you got admitted to one of the prestigious colleges doesn't make you one of them. How dare you act haughtily in front of us?! Stop when we are talking to you," one of them ordered.
Stellan paused, turning to look at them, "I have a lot of things to do, so I need to hurry back to the store," he calmly told them.
"Not bad, you have learned to start talking back right?"
The leader who had been silent for a while walked closer to Stellan. Suddenly He kicked the bicycle with a force, knocking down both Stellan and the bicycle.
However, Stellan stood up, pulling up his bicycle with him, again, totally disregarding his bruised hands, not even a wince was let out.
The leader with fuming eyes kicked down the bicycle again, this time with a full force. The bicycle knocked Stellan squarely out of his feet to the ground.
Seeing Stellan attempting to get up, the spiky haired boy spat out, "You are still trying to get up? Ah!" He leaned into the bicycle trying to shove it back to the other boy with both hands.
Suddenly, a black and silver motorcycle, with the rider in a dark outfit appeared moving towards the duo at an outstanding speed. The leader, out of fright, backflipped out of the way, leaving only Stellan who was still trying to get up. But the motorcycle stopped in front of him.
"Are you blind or what?! Can't you see there's someone?!" The leader yelled at the rider, after he had regained himself, green veins popping out of his forehead and neck.
By then, Stellan had eventually stood up with the bicycle, facing the rider. The rider opened the glass attached to the helmet which concealed the eyes, revealing translucent dark eyes.
"I am talking to you!" he yelled again, but still didn't dare to make a move.
The eyes stared intently at Stellan like he was appraising him, for some time, before giving him a curt nod and then turning back again to the hoodlums. The rider started the motorcycle, moving in the direction of the leader who was still vibrating in anger.
Making use of the diversion, Stellan entered his bicycle and pedaled away.