Carl smoked as he watched some of the pack members converse and grooved to a pop song played by the robust DJ at a corner. Some chuckled as they raised their glasses in a toast, sealing the moment.

The pounding bass of the club's music vibrated through his bones and his gaze flew across every one in the bar. Justin busied himself with drawing more tattoes on Roger's arm.

Some of the members engaged in a little bike race outside on the terrace, preparing themselves for the forthcoming contest.

Cloud of thick gray smokes lingered in the air as Carl puffed with his lips rounded.

He was in a leather...