Phoenix:
I didn’t think they’d come.
Not all of them.
Not the bikers from rival shops. Not the old-timers from my dad’s club who still called me “kiddo” and ruffled my hair. Not the women from the diner who hugged me like they’d watched me grow up. Not the college girls wearing our shirts with liner on their eyes and dreams in their pockets. Not the young guy who bought a tee just to ask how long until the next custom build drops.
I didn’t think they’d care this much.
But they did.
They loved it.
They loved the smell of oil and leather and paint that clung to the air like incense. They loved the bikes lined up under the spotlights, each one gleaming like a weapon of art. They loved the gritty music, the smoke in the distance, the laughter echoing off steel and concrete.
But most sh
