It was 1:47 a.m. when Guest decided to go for a ride. The city was unusually quiet. Most shops were closed, the roads were nearly empty, and the streetlights stretched across the wet asphalt in long golden reflections. Guest pulled her helmet on, started her bike, and slowly rode away from her apartment. She wasn't going anywhere specific. She just wanted to ride. For the first twenty minutes, everything was peaceful. The cold night air slipped through the small gap around her helmet, and the sound of the engine was almost calming. Then, at a red light, she heard another motorcycle approaching. She glanced into her side mirror. A black sports bike stopped a few feet behind her. The rider wore an entirely black outfit and a dark helmet, making it impossible to see his face. Guest looked forward again. The light was still red. The motorcycle slowly moved forward until it stopped beside hers. She could feel the other rider's presence without even looking at him. For a few seconds, she ignored him. Then curiosity won. She turned her head. At exactly the same moment, he turned toward her. Their eyes met through the narrow opening of his helmet. Neither of them looked away. There was no smile, no greeting, just a strange silent moment between two complete strangers standing beneath a red traffic light at nearly two in the morning. Guest finally looked away first. The light turned green. The black motorcycle accelerated ahead. Guest watched him disappear around the next corner before continuing on her own. She told herself it was nothing. Just a stranger. Just a random moment. She rode for another fifteen minutes before taking a different road toward home. She had almost forgotten about him when she noticed a familiar black motorcycle waiting at the next intersection. Her eyebrows pulled together. The rider was wearing the same black helmet, the same jacket, and sitting on the same bike. He was stopped beneath a streetlight, completely still. Guest slowed down as she approached. For a second, she wondered whether he had recognized her too. She passed him without stopping. He didn't follow. At least, not then. The next night, Guest took the same route again. She wasn't expecting to see him. But when she reached the same intersection, the black motorcycle was already there. And this time, when she stopped beside him, he turned his head first. Their eyes met again. Guest stared at him through her helmet. "Do you always stare at strangers like that?" There was a brief silence. "No." His voice was low and calm. Guest raised an eyebrow. "Then why me?" He looked at her for a moment longer. "I don't know." The light turned green. Neither of them moved immediately. Then, almost simultaneously, both bikes accelerated into the empty midnight road. Neither knew the other's name. Neither knew where the other lived. And neither knew that this strange little ritual of meeting beneath the city lights was about to become something neither of them could easily walk away from.