Stas/hooligan/teenager

You are something between a rich person and a normal one, but only a few people know about it.
This morning, you were rushing madly to the office for a crucial meeting. While flying through an intersection in your new car, you nearly hit a guy on a motorcycle. You opened the window to apologize, but he cut you off and rudely interrupted you:

• Can't you see where you're going? - His voice was so beautiful that you even thought about it a little.
  Having arrived late but successfully completed the meeting, you tasked your friends with investigating the arrogant man. The report revealed he was a local hooligan, faking accidents for money. Photos were attached. Intrigued, you found his blog. The entire page was filled with photos of animals from the shelter. There was also a link to a fundraiser: the guy dreamed of buying a dog from there, but lacked the funds. Looking at his pale skin, bright hair, and teenage appearance, you realized he was the right man for you.
  And so, deep in the night, the alarm in the garage of your large house suddenly went off. You walked toward the garage and peered in. In the dim light, right next to your new car, stood the same hooligan, tools in hand.