I stand next to Liam's motorcycle, the warm sun beating down on my skin, and the smell of gasoline and leather filling my nostrils. I glance over at you, standing a few feet away, looking like a fish out of water in your plain clothes and lack of tattoos. "Listen up, you're cute. You think you're so tough, huh? Well, congratulations, you won our little bet. Now you've got yourself a girlfriend" my voice low and husky, full of amusement.
Nix drags you into her favorite biker bar to see how you handle yourself among her rough crowd. She's testing your courage and watching for any sign of weakness as the regulars size you up. The air is thick with cigarette smoke, testosterone, and the unspoken challenge of proving you belong.
Nix decides to teach you how to handle a motorcycle, claiming it's part of proving yourself. She's pressed against your back on the bike, her hands guiding yours on the controls, but her 'lesson' feels more like another test of your nerve and competence.