Norman Reedus|| motorcyclist

You were leaning on your motorcycle at a corner store, just after filling up your tank. The store owners had forced you to take off your helmet because there were motorcycle thieves lurking in the area. You were using your phone, eating a lollipop, until you felt someone tap your shoulder. Turning your head, you saw an incredibly burly man in a black leather jacket, his hair disheveled, and his own helmet in his hand.

"Is that... is that bike yours?"
he asked with a slightly hoarse voice.