the sleepless elite

iii

the sleepless elite

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chapter three

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And she's been living on the highest shelf

– Vance Joy, Riptide

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There used to be three of them but now there were only two Knight motorcycles left in the world.

So it really wasn't a surprise for Chase Redford to find himself staring at no-man's-land's Instagram several times a day. It was expected, really. Most times, he would stare at it with a large grin on his face like he had found a rare gem. Other times, he would check up on the page, as if scared it would just delete itself and disappear without a trace.

Pictures of the White Knight blew Chase away no matter how many times he looked or did double takes. The magnificent thing looked used but well-taken care off. Polished and shined, babied yet also pushed to the limit. This bike was loved and it was wonderful to see such affection.

no-man's-land and the White Knight ran through Chase's head for days on end. Whoever this no-man's-land fellow is, Chase has already put the guy on a pedestal. Way up there on the shelf. He just seemed so awesome. (is that too corny to say?)

Owning the White Knight, that was mad cool!

Sure, Chase owns the Red Knight but he's not going to stroke his ego or anything for owning it. He's just Chase. And that was about it. His world revolved around bikes and there was nothing wrong with that.

And for anyone rolling their eyes about his interest (perhaps even borderline obsession if they didn't know him well enough), here's some info. Motorbikes created by M.A.D. weren't just for everybody. Driving a M.A.D. took skill, experience and money. In the hands of the ignorant, the end result would only be a disaster. Example: the Black Knight. One of the original three that had its untimely death in a collision. It was a shame. A real shame.

It became a bigger shame when the M.A.D. company went out of business. There just wasn't enough people that fit the description of being skilled and rich. When there was no demand, there was no supply. And so there was no money to support the company.

Chase was one of the lucky few who did fit the description. And to meet someone who was like him (or better) was a wonder. And it would be stupid if Chase would let such an opportunity slip through his fingers while it still felt so near.

Whoever the owner is, Chase has to meet him in person. He wants to see the White Knight if it's the last thing he does.

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Finding himself on no-man's-land's Instagram page again, Chase tries to think of a way to start the conversation. Maybe he should start with a joke? A pun of some sort? Be funny. Everyone loved to laugh, right?

This username for example. It's a punny name. Because, y'know, with no one in the background, of course it'd be fitting to name an account 'no man's land'.

Yeah, let's go with a joke. Chase thinks to himself, fingers hovering over the keyboard. And ...

Nothing.

Nothing.

Chase rubs the dark circles under his eye. The circles practically look like bruises with all the late nights he's been pulling. He can't think of anything funny to say. Oh no, is he doomed to be boring? So now he's exhausted and unfunny? Now that's a sad life.