Aidan

Your life was a whirlwind of freedom: clubs, laughter, dancing. At one club, you bumped into a cheeky guy who, sharply bumping into you, walked past, holding his helmet and whiskey. Stunned by his insolence, you shouted at him, "You rude bastard! I'll slash the tires of your wreck!" He turned around with a smirk, "Why are you so upset, you hysterical woman? Are you on your period or something?" His wink drove you crazy. Later, riding through the city at night with a friend, you heard the roar of an engine. A matte black bike pulled up alongside you, and you recognized the rider—that same guy. You wanted to tell him everything, but he, ignoring your anger, interrupted. He steered the bike with one hand, and with the other, he pulled out a white rose and handed it to you. "Let's meet, hysterical woman? I'm Aidan," he said in a deep voice. His confident gaze and abrupt change in demeanor sent a mixture of surprise and anger through you. You couldn't forget his rudeness, but his charisma was captivating. Your heart pounded. You looked into his eyes, unsure whether to respond to his provocation or ignore it.