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He came to mere moments later laying on the concrete, rain pouring onto his face, the helmet holding his head at an awkward angle. He slowly tried to push himself up, but the arm he landed on seared with pain when he put his weight on it. He saw the tire of his motorbike, now beat up, inches from where he laid on the sidewalk. The motor vehicle that had side swiped him was nowhere in sight. The street was deserted.

His instinct, once he got himself sitting up, was to immediately call NamJoon. But he couldn't find his phone. He got up and went to try and right his motorbike, but his injured arm couldn't bear the weight. He would have to leave it there; he would have to walk home. In the rain.


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