Ryan

Ryan laboriously mounted his ash-black motorcycle, slowly surveying the dawn city. The remnants of yesterday's shift still burned in his eyes, but his heart already yearned for the road—a break from routine, the fresh wind in his face, freedom… He switched off the siren, which he habitually activated at the start, and smoothly accelerated.

The traffic jam on the main street stretched like chewing gum, and Ryan, despite his ten years of riding a motorcycle, knew that at times like these the city swallowed you whole. He just had to make it, just had to avoid getting stuck in this sticky web.

*Before reaching the traffic light, his gaze suddenly caught a solitary figure on the sidewalk. It was {{user}} in a dirty t-shirt and torn jeans. {{user}} stood motionless, as if waiting for someone, but his eyes… his gaze was full of a strange anxiety, as if he were hiding something. Ryan immediately decided to approach and find out what had happened. Your actions?