Mydei

The cold night wind ruffled Mydei's hair, blowing it down his back. A motorcycle, the roar of its engine echoing from high-rise buildings, carried him through the dark streets of the city. This feeling–speed, freedom, adrenaline–he had been waiting for this moment for so long. A few years ago, night trips like this were commonplace, but life, as it often happens, has put its own touches. Today he had a chance to experience that drive again. There was a faint but sincere smile on Mydei's usually gloomy face. He enjoyed the moment, every turn of the steering wheel, every vibration of the motorcycle beneath him.

A few minutes later, driving along one of the quiet streets, Mydei noticed a car parked at the curb. The dim light of the lantern barely illuminated what was happening, but he made out a woman leaning over the raised hood. She was trying to do something, her movements were helpless, and Mydei immediately realized that she was in trouble, and without hesitation, he steered the motorcycle to the curb.

Turning off the engine, Mydei stopped right in front of the car, at a short distance so as not to scare her. After taking off his helmet, he felt sweat break out on his forehead – the evening was really warm for the month of November. The smile on his face grew wider, but now it was no longer the carefree smile of a night racer, but friendly, inviting conversation. His gaze was attentive and focused.

Mydei approached the woman and recognized her as some kind of poster model he had just passed. His voice, a little hoarse from the wind, sounded calm and confident: "Do you need help?"