Being surrounded by Harley's was not something that Adeline ever thought possible, considering she ride a Triumph. But catching the eye of a blonde Harley Rider made that possible. It didn't even matter what bike she rides.
(Adeline's P.O.V.) On a crystal clear blue morning day passers by could hear the clinging and clanging of ratchets and rotors turning on the main street. Greased up mechanics faces filled in dirt and grime, repair limping bikes and go round' bout' inspection. And only a customers hopes that the bill not be too high, for these days of despair would make the bike rider simply sigh. Yet I will tell no tales, just honesty and truth where big manoff bike dealers fail. You pay only for what you ask me to repair.
I walk inside my mechanic shop and see my head-mechanic, Arthur, already having started his day. He was nearly 30 years my senior and had immegrated to America from Scotland after the war. Arthur stood in his old worn down overalls, with greasy rags hanging out his pockets. His fingers nails were bordered in black from the years fixin' bikes. This time was no different as he looked over the bike. Wiping his hands with a rag so far with a look of thinkin' hard and long. "Morning Arthur" I greeted passing him as I pulled my jacket off. Arthur looked up at me, a grin formed on his face realising my arrival. "Yer alright, Addie?" he grinned speaking with his thick Scottisj accent which he had not even forgot after all those years in America. "I'm good" I replied walking over to him and the bike, "Still haven't fixed it huh" I teased him pointing at it. Arthur had bet that he could get the Chimera running after I had given up on it a few days back. "Look, if there's gonnae be one who'll fix this beauty is gonnae be me" he proudly states. I chuckled and nodded my head "if you so say, Arthur". Yet knowing Arthur and his skills, he would have that bike running again. I walked towards my office to get some paperwork done. I sit down and read the bills. A groan immediatly leaving my mouth while I rub my temple, as I think about the issue of the proceeding bankruptcy that plagued the business. The numbers of the expenses only seemed to increase, while the numbers of income only seemed to decrease. I leaned back into my chair and rubbed my hands over my face and let out a frustrated sigh. Then came the sound of a motorcycle starting up, it was the Chimera. I shook my head and chuckled. Atleast someone was having a better time. I threw my documents down and rose to my feet. Wandering over to Arthur and the fixed bike. Again, wiping his hands for the grease he smiled proudly at me. "How the hell did you manage that?" I asked leaning forward to have a closer look at the little red bike. Touching the frame work to try and spot Arthur his handywork. "Well, some lads wouldnae know a spark plug from a fucking hair dryer, but luckily yer old mucker does" he said still holding onto his handywork regarding the bikes. I smiled at him before returning to my work. At the end of the day the Scottsman walked into my office and let himself fall onto a nearby chair. Exhausted from the day of tinkering on bikes, dealing with nasty speaking customers and explaining stuff to Jack whenever he decided to drop by. Arthur didn't like Jack, often described him as useless as an ashtray on a motorcycle. "I'm in desperate need of a pint, las" he huffed wiping his brow. I snickered hearing the Scott talk. I looked at my wrist to check the time. "Well, it is past closing time" I stated rising from my chair and grabbing my jacket. I was agreeing with him to get a drink. Arthur grinned and told me it would be his treat. "Can't be a beer though" I smirked, "aye, I know! No alcohol when riding the Triumph" he waved at me. As soon as the sentence left his mouth Arthur's face fell with guilt. "Addie, I-" he began. I shook my head and raised a hand "it's okay". Arthur knew the reason why I never drink and ride. I snatched my bike keys from the desk and passed Arthur. "Come on then, old-timer" I snickered as I swung my leg over my Triumph. And so we made our way to the bar on our bikes. I let Arthur take the lead on our drive to a bar. I groaned as we rode upon the Junker's Tavern. Arthur parked his Harley, fitting in perfectly with all the other Harley Davidson bikes. While my Triumph stuck out like a sore thumb. Arthur believed that my groan was meant for the rivalry between the Harleys and Triumphs. But it was actually more the reason of seeing Benny. And I had no desire to see him because of what Jack had said. Knowing Benny, he will surely offer to ride me back home. Which I cannot afford. Reluctantly I still park the bike beside his, before trailing in behind him into the bar. Immediatly, I spot multiple Vandals lounging around the bar. From standing at the music-box, leaning on the bar or shuffing one another as a joke. I push past the crowd of loud cursing riders. I sigh and sit down opposite of Arthur in one of the empty benches. My eyes scan around the room briefly as I make myself comfortable. Then of course, like a moth drawn to a light, my eyes landed on Benny.
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He stood over the pool table. Wearing a sleeveless shirt which showcased of his broad figure. The yellow, orange light toned his mucles even more. Highlighting every bicep and tricep. Benny had his head down to the pool table before slowly looking up at the people around him. Then, his eyes caught onto my own. As soon as he realized I was here and specifically staring at him his lips curled up in a cheeky smirk. Clearly enjoying the attention. "He's a braw looking man" Arthur said, snapping me from my thought. By his face it was clear he had noticed me staring at Benny and found it incredibly funny. So he was going to be like an annoying teasing friend. I looked at him and raised an eyebrow "Braw?". He nodded over to Benny "a handsome fella" Arthur replied, explaining what the word Braw meant, "the goodlookin' man" he followed up, emphazing a Chicago accent. I shook my head with a chuckle. Arthur was out of line, but dammit the Scott was right about Benny's good looks.
