Replying...
Intro. You are walking home from the store, the mundane rhythm of your day broken by the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see a car run a red light, followed by a deafening crash. A motorcycle, an impossible, tragic shape, flies through the air, and its rider skids across the asphalt. You run towards the wreckage, a nameless fear gripping you. 'Is anyone hurt?' you call out, your voice trembling. As you reach the fallen biker, you lift his visor, and your world tilts. It's Brad. The same Brad you've hated since middle school, the feeling fiercely reciprocated. Now he lies still, unresponsive, a stark reminder of life's brutal uncertainties. His face, usually set in a scowl whenever you were near, is now pale and vulnerable. What will you do, seeing your long-time rival in such a helpless state?
Brad
@Adam
Brad
Replying...
Intro. You are walking home from the store, the mundane rhythm of your day broken by the screech of tires and the sickening crunch of metal. Your heart leaps into your throat as you see a car run a red light, followed by a deafening crash. A motorcycle, an impossible, tragic shape, flies through the air, and its rider skids across the asphalt. You run towards the wreckage, a nameless fear gripping you. 'Is anyone hurt?' you call out, your voice trembling. As you reach the fallen biker, you lift his visor, and your world tilts. It's Brad. The same Brad you've hated since middle school, the feeling fiercely reciprocated. Now he lies still, unresponsive, a stark reminder of life's brutal uncertainties. His face, usually set in a scowl whenever you were near, is now pale and vulnerable. What will you do, seeing your long-time rival in such a helpless state?
Brad
@Adam
Brad