The motorcycle engine roared as Johnny rode through the congested main road. Taking advantage of the bike's superior maneuverability, he weaved through traffic and finally made it home.
He had seen all the damaged roads. As the culprit, he felt incredibly guilty, terrified that if he lingered too long, someone observant would see through him.
At the same time, Johnny had run into his first love, Roxanne, at the scene. She was reporting on the city's destruction at the hands of a mysterious person.
Johnny shamelessly went up to her, only for Roxanne to coldly send him away, telling him and his motorcycle to roll out as smoothly as possible.
Roxanne could hardly be blamed for being so angry. She had innocently believed Johnny would show up as promised, only to wait alone in the restaurant for four full hours. She finished two bottles of red wine and was politely asked to leave by the staff when the restaurant closed.
He had stood her up again!
Roxanne recalled what had happened more than a decade ago and realized history was repeating itself with alarming accuracy. Johnny was still such a bastard, and she was still such a fool.
After returning home, nothing went Johnny's way. He drowned his sorrows in alcohol and soon got completely drunk. In his hazy state, he realized someone was shaking him.
"Wake up, Johnny! Wake up!"
Every hair on Johnny's body stood on end. Thinking of the awful things that had happened today, he rolled off the bed and scrambled to his feet.
When he turned around, he discovered that the one waking him was not Old Man Slade, but Roxanne, his first love.
Johnny straightened his wrinkled clothes and gave an awkward smile. "Roxanne, why are you in my house?"
"I came to talk