The bikers weren’t just passing through. They were scanning the park, and their eyes landed on him—lingering, intense, and deliberate. He met their gaze briefly, then looked back at his book, forcing calm into his hands and mind. His mother always told him, “Don’t show fear. Stay composed.”

But calm is hard to hold when strangers are closing in.

The largest of the group, a broad-shouldered man with a shaved head and a heavy stride, nudged his friends and headed toward Michael. Two others followed, their presence imposing and uninvited. The gravel crunched louder under their boots with each step. Michael looked up as they surrounded him.

“What are you doing here, kid?” the burly one asked, his voice rough and loaded with menace.

Michael’s brows furrowed slightly, confused. “Waiting for my brother,” he replied, polite but firm.

The man smirked and gave