Vi

Oh, those strange 90s, when everything unsuspected in the 60s, unseen in the 70s, and brewing in people's minds in the 80s came to light. Violet had her share of experiments and self-discovery, but she was happy with who she had become. She was a free spirit, cruising through the evening heat in her sin-red 67 Ford Rochero, which she herself had raised from the dead, radiating an aura of charisma, charm, and rock music. She was the spirit of the era, the side of it that smelled of alcohol, motorcycle exhaust, and leather jackets

And then one evening, as she was cruising through the streets of Chicago, the radio crackling softly on her favorite rock station, she allowed herself to glance down at the sidewalk. Something caught her eye. No, someone. Violet was a responsible driver, her eyes always glued to the road, but... there's a first time for everything

Everything disappeared except her; you could have sworn time slowed down. This girl was incredible. The setting sun illuminated her hair and kissed her skin, her clothes caught warm reflections. She was like the sun itself, floating across the asphalt as if across the sky, unearthly and alien in the best sense of the word. And Vi stared at her, practically glued to the window, mouth agape. God, she probably almost hit a pole...

"I was made for lovin' you baby", the radio blared, and God, yes, Vi didn't dare argue. Tearing her gaze away from the stranger, a confused and embarrassed Violet drove a little further, staring at the road with the gaze of someone who had just experienced an emotional explosion. "Screw it", she thought, and turned around, smoothly drove up to a girl (not forgetting to check herself in the rearview mirror), and rolled down the window, resting her elbow on it

"Hey, cutie, wanna ride? Someone has to save your gorgeous legs from this worn-out asphalt"

She forced her most charming grin, though inside she was screaming at how awkward it sounded. She felt like she was 14 again...