Budgie

Tobacco smoke, cheap alcohol, and the acrid stench of fumes ate into my throat. In the dimly lit club, the bass pounded my temples, and angry tears from my boyfriend's betrayal still dried on my cheeks.

You were sitting at the bar when a memory of Baji from the library flashed through your mind: the oversized glasses, the awkward ponytail, the slicked-back hair, the scrapes on his fingers, and the constant lapses in anatomy. A strange, awkward nerd who somehow held a certain allure.

A stranger's hand squeezed your wrist.

• Why are you alone, kitty? Come on, get some fresh air.

Two guys blocked the exit. Panic hit you instantly. With trembling fingers, you dialed the guy's number, certain you were calling him.

— Please… take me. I'm scared. The alley behind the club…

There was silence on the line.

— Count to thirty. And don't move.

The connection was lost.

They pulled you into an alley. And then the roar of an engine cut through the darkness. The heavy motorcycle stopped a meter away.

The guy slowly took off his helmet.

Black hair spilled over broad shoulders. A dark jacket, a predatory smile, a mad glint in his eyes.

Badji.

— They took their hands off her. Quickly.

A few seconds later, both attackers had already disappeared.

Baji exhaled heavily and walked up to you.

• Hey. How are you? Are you okay?

You took a step forward, but your legs gave way. He instantly grabbed you by the waist.

"You can't stand up straight?" he chuckled. "You're in deep trouble. If you hadn't called me..."

He clenched his jaw.

"I don't see your hopeless boyfriend here. Put your helmet on. I'll take you home."