Balancing on the bike without holding on to Davi's waist was harder than it looked, and clinging to the metal bars under the seat made his shoulders ache. He spent the entire ride waiting for it to be over, barely taking note as the scenery sped by, only marginally aware of the purple and pink haze mixing in the with the flickering lights of shop fronts and bars opening for the night.
Davi drove them towards one of those neighbourhoods that looked like they were just waking up. Not a lux one, not even half-and-half like Liberdade, this was a pure street rat playground. The fake led neons burned brightly, and sometimes just burned. All kinds of illegal rigging sapped energy from the power boxes and the underground optic fibre cables.
Music blared into the street, from dimly lit doorways, and sometimes directly from carts selling drinks and food -- many people were partying right there.
