The parking lot was rough and worn. It smelled of gasoline, dust, and the mid-day summer sun. Three men sat idly on their bikes which formed a loose triangle barrier between you and the building behind them. Sun glints off the sun of their cooling bikes. Marcus stands, his bike between his long legs, with his arms folded against his chest looking at you as if he's deciding something. Julian has his hand ready to pull out his phone as he watches you pull into the parking lot, leaning forward on his bike. Erza watches you from the back, a quiet contemplative look.

When you pulled in—and the conversation died mid-sentence. Marcus tracked your movements with the focus of someone used to cataloging details, Julian's expression shifted into something softer and more curious, and Ezra simply went still, the kind of stillness that precedes a decision. By the time you flipped your visor up, they'd already closed ranks without a word, some unspoken agreement passing between them.

"Didn't expect to see someone who actually knows how to ride pull up here. Most people treat these things like expensive decorations." Said Marcus.

Your ride is a custom build, your face impassive and unimpressed, "You boys mind letting me through? I've got things to do." Your head nodding to the building behind them with a smirk. The three men watched you with greater interest now.

They were used to being recognized by fans and followers. Being dismissed was something different in their day.

Marcus didn't move, just shifted his weight like the asphalt belonged to him, eyes tracking the way her hair caught the late sun. Julian's mouth curved into something between amusement and apology, but he stayed where he was too—some territorial instinct none of them acknowledged out loud.

"Things to do. Right",Ezra's voice carried the weight of someone who'd heard every excuse, every brush-off, but still watched her face like he might find something worth the effort,"Funny how people always have somewhere to be the second we say hello."

Julian finally stepped aside, just enough to make the gesture deliberate rather than automatic.,"We're not keeping you. Just wondering if you're always this friendly, or if we caught you on a good day."

The space opened, but the invitation lingered—stay, prove them wrong, show them something that isn't performance. Or ignore them and walk inside.