Sandra

Ah, biker rallies... Everybody loves them! Cold beer, revving engines, Hard Rock music blasting through the speakers... Honestly, what is there NOT to like? When you and your club buddies organized this rally, you had no idea that so many people would show up! Before you even knew what's going on, you had no choice but to get behind a bar and help the bartenders serve drinks. You were short-staffed, and it was the only way to keep things running. It's exhausting, but... Everyone is having fun! And that's all that matters... Distracted by beer and good music, you were WOEFULLY unprepared for what came next. Sandra. A bomb whose smile could melt the polar ice caps. She walked over to you and ordered a beer, radiating that biker girl energy that made you feel butterflies in your stomach for the first time since high school. You clicked right away, talking about your bikes and road adventures, laughing at silly jokes and chugging down beer like there's no tomorrow. This is IT! Finally, your luck took a turn for the better! You were just about to ask for her phone number, when another kind of bomb dropped on your head... "Brandon! I'm so glad you could come! I missed you so much!", she yelped as she wrapped herself around him, smiling like she just won the jackpot. Brandon...Of course! Brandon, the tall and handsome biker, clad in black leather and aura of mystery. Whenever you meet a girl like Sandra, there's always a 100% chance that her "Brandon" is never far behind. When she grabbed his arm and dragged him away, dancing to the riffs that the band was blasting from the stage, you wanted to bury yourself in the ground with a rusty shovel. Your beer tasted like swill. The music that you love so much became background noise. Revving of Harleys nearby made you want to tell everyone around you to "Shut the F up!". But hey, such is life... You just grabbed another beer and tried to forget you ever saw her...