Silver Lining ❥ daerin

𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄

The night was thick with the humidity that clung to the streets of Manila like a second skin. Calista Avellino revved the engine of her motorcycle, the deep purr of the machine beneath her hands a familiar comfort. Nightwing—that's what she called it—her midnight black motorcycle that gleamed under the dim streetlights. The city was alive with the usual chaos of late-night traffic, even on España Boulevard. Jeepneys, cars, and buses crawled along the congested road, a maze of honking horns and frustrated drivers.

But for Calista, this was where she thrived.

She tightened her grip on the handlebars, her heart syncing with the thrum of the engine. The usual rules of the road didn't apply to her—she was made for the speed, for the adrenaline that surged through her veins like a shot of pure electricity. With a twist of her wrist, she took off, weaving through the narrow gaps between vehicles, her body leaning with the curves, dodging side mirrors and brushing past buses with reckless precision.

The wind whipped through her hair, the roar of Nightwing echoing off the buildings as she sped past them. To anyone else, the traffic would have been a nightmare, but to Calista, it was a challenge—a test of skill that she was more than willing to meet head-on. The blaring horns and flashing headlights were mere obstacles in her path, things to be navigated with the ease that only came from years of riding.

The city was a blur around her as she cut through the traffic, the rush of the night air exhilarating. She felt invincible, untouchable—nothing could keep up with her. Not the traffic, not the rules, and certainly not the expectations that came with being the only daughter of the Avellino family. Here, on this road, she was just Calista, the girl who could outrun anything, anyone.

The streets of Manila belonged to her, and with each mile that passed under Nightwing's tires, she left behind the weight of the world, racing into the night with nothing but the thrill of the ride to keep her company.

As Calista streaked down España Boulevard, the cityscape shifted into the more serene outskirts of Manila. The traffic began to thin, the lights of the bustling metropolis giving way to darker stretches of road where the shadows played tricks on the senses. Here, the adrenaline of the race still clung to her, but the urgency of the city's chaos started to recede.

Nightwing roared beneath her, the hum of the engine now a low, steady growl. Calista's gaze was focused, scanning the road ahead for any potential hazards. The streetlights grew sparse, casting long, wavering beams across the asphalt. She leaned into the curves with practiced ease, her movements fluid and instinctive.

Her mind, though, was a storm of thoughts. The pressure to live up to her family's legacy, the expectation to be perfect, weighed heavily on her. Yet, here on the road, all of it seemed to evaporate with each mile she covered. The motorcycle, her trusted companion, was a symbol of freedom—a way to escape the constraints of her privileged but scrutinised life.

As she approached a familiar stretch of road, she noticed a small café nestled on the corner, its lights casting a warm, inviting glow against the encroaching night. The café was a secret haven where she sometimes found solace, away from the prying eyes of her world. Tonight, however, she wasn't planning to stop. Instead, she gave the place a nod of acknowledgment as she sped by, feeling a pang of nostalgia for the quiet moments she had there.

Her thoughts were abruptly interrupted as a sudden gust of wind swept through, almost pushing her to the side. Calista expertly corrected her course, her focus sharpening. The thrill of the ride surged back, a reminder that this—this freedom, this exhilaration—was why she rode. The world behind her, the one filled with expectations and responsibilities, faded further into the distance.

With a final burst of speed, Calista leaned into the last curve, her bike handling the turn with effortless grace. The open road stretched ahead, a ribbon of possibility and adventure. She relished the feeling of unbridled freedom, the night air cool against her skin as she continued her journey, Nightwing carrying her into the endless night.

As Calista flew through the winding streets of Forbes Park, the lush greenery and sprawling mansions began to emerge from the shadows. Her heart still raced from the thrill of the ride, but the peaceful, upscale neighbourhood provided a stark contrast to the chaotic pulse of the city she had just left behind. Nightwing's powerful engine reverberated through the quiet, upscale enclave, the hum a soothing balm after the frenetic pace of the boulevard.

She approached her family's grand residence, its ornate gates and manicured gardens standing as symbols of her privileged life. As she slowed to a stop, she noticed a moving truck in the driveway of the house next door. The large vehicle was parked haphazardly, its cargo doors ajar as movers unloaded boxes and furniture. The scene was a stark departure from the usual tranquility of the neighbourhood.

Calista's gaze was drawn to a figure standing near the moving truck—a girl, perhaps in her early twenties, with an air of curiosity and a hint of irritation. Their eyes met briefly, and Calista saw the girl's expression shift from surprise to something unreadable. There was a moment of silent acknowledgment between them, a fleeting connection amidst the busy moving scene.

Shaking off the encounter, Calista navigated Nightwing through the open gates of her family's estate, the heavy ironwork closing behind her with a satisfying clank. She parked her motorcycle with practiced ease, the thrill of the ride gradually giving way to a familiar sense of calm.

With a contented sigh, she dismounted and walked to the front lawn, the cool, dewy grass. The stars were beginning to pierce the dark sky, their light mingling with the soft glow from the house. She lay down on the lawn, staring up at the heavens. The weight of the world seemed to lift, if only temporarily, as she surrendered to the tranquility of the night.

The softness of the grass beneath her and the serenity of the estate offered a stark contrast to the whirlwind of her day. She let her thoughts drift, the earlier encounter with the girl next door a curious footnote in her evening. For now, as she lay there, surrounded by the silence of her family's estate, Calista relished the rare moment of peace she found in her own world.