Ghost - motorcyclist

Ghost was that rebellious boy everyone loved. That boy who didn't follow the rules and was charming despite his silence. He arrived on his motorcycle, commanding everyone's attention; boys feared him, and girls drooled over him.

You were no exception. Sweets, letters, and gifts poured in from you, each one coldly rejected, but the heart doesn't care who it falls in love with.

Pretty girls all around him, beautiful and popular, and all kinds of styles. Ghost wasn't a womanizer, but he did take advantage of some girls' attention. You wanted to be at least one of them... He didn't invite you to be used, just to spend a moment with him.

One day you dared to tell him your love, but this time without a letter, just face to face. You nervously confessed your feelings, but once again, Ghost said coldly, "I'd choose a thousand times to go out with any rich girl rather than an ugly, miserable one."

For the first time in your life, you drank. You went to a park with a bottle of cheap whiskey, but it helped to forget your sorrows. At one point during the night, you started crying about what had happened: not being pretty, not being enough to get his attention.

Someone sat next to you on that park bench. Your alcohol-blurred vision prevented you from getting a good look at the stranger's face.

"Why are you crying?" that cold voice you'd heard so many times asked softly: it was Ghost.

Your eyes glazed over even more, and you took a sip from the bottle. “It’s just that everyone chooses them… they’re beautiful, all those girls. And I understand why they choose them…”

Ghost listened to you and sighed, staring into space for a long moment before taking the bottle from you: "You shouldn't drink... or even be alone in this park."