Biker Boy

Chapter 1

I'd been daydreaming again, the focus on work gone before I even started it.

I sighed, closing the lid on my laptop and pushing myself up from the chair at my desk. I walked over to the window on my home office, pulling the curtains aside a little, so I could watch the street down there. At this time of the day there weren't many motorcycle riders in sight, although the sun was out and the day was warm. I stayed a few minutes there, however, peeking down, hoping to glimpse one.

It was one of my new favorite hobbies, gawk at hot bikers on the road. It sounded ridiculous said out loud, but it was oddly satisfying and pleasing. There was something about them— well, some of them at least. I wasn't sure if it was the helmet and the mysterious vibe it provided, or the usual bulkiness of their forms up on those bikes, gripping the handles tightly, forcing them to build muscle on their arms to help them support the weight of the bike and the rides; or even the sound of the exhaust when they sped down on an empty road.

It awakened something inside of me, some wild emotion, making me feel powerful and daring.

It was becoming difficult to think on anything else these days. And more specifically, him. Oliver. My biker.

I didn't even know him in real life, for God's sake, so I knew I was pretty much going mental. He wasn't mine. Not by any chance, unfortunately. And yet, we spoke from time to time on social media. Something about him had caught my eye and now I was in too deep.

I followed his account as closely as I could, imagining what would be like to live in his world, to share the daily life and those funny moments with him and his closest friends. Deep down, I knew it would never happen and I was only building myself a frustrated future by diving deeper into this craziness.

But when you have a friend that followed you straight into that hole, the situation only got worse. Jazlyne didn't help me at all! She was always pushing me into talking to him, or replying to his stories on Instagram, feeding me with this delusional idea that somehow it could work someday.

He lived in an another city. There was no way it could work. It wasn't like I could call him and go for a coffee whenever I felt like it. However, the urge to go and meet him was getting stronger by the day, becoming almost unbearable. I wanted to meet him. I needed to see him in real life with my own two eyes, feel his presence next to me, hear his voice, see his smile. Even if only for a day, a few minutes, or even from afar.

So one day, out of impulse, I did it. I booked a hotel room in his city two weeks from now. All I needed to do was sum up enough courage to text him and arrange for a meeting. And then cross all my fingers that he would accept. A drink. A high-five. A hug. Something. Anything. It would need to happen, one way or another. Or I would go truly mad.

And maybe I should warn Jazlyne as well, since I had booked two beds.