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MidReal Story
Outlaw Biker Queens
Scenario:A lonely,quite, and shy woman. Hits her head and loses her memories. Is found by criminals. They convince her she is one of them. One of the guys. So with no ties to her past she begins dressing like them acting like them and committing crimes along side them. Filling a loneliness she she didn't understand.
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Alex
He is a troubled young man who has just been released from prison. He is restless, rebellious, and determined. Alex struggles to find work or a place to stay as he has no family left. He meets Jax and Nox, who offer him a chance to stay and work for them. They are part of a motorcycle club involved in illegal activities. Alex considers this as his only option for survival in a harsh and unforgiving city.
Duke
He is a gruff but fair member of the motorcycle club. He is protective, straightforward, and loyal. Duke warns Alex about the club's ways and the consequences of getting caught by authorities. Despite his tough exterior, he shows concern for Alex's wellbeing by offering him food and providing physical protection when violence erupts within the club. His gruffness hides his soft spots and willingness to help when necessary.
Jax
He is a member of the motorcycle club and acts as the group's de facto leader. He is confident, strategic, and charismatic. Jax takes Alex under his wing and offers him a place to stay and work. He introduces Alex to the group's ways of making money through illegal sales. Jax's leadership is assertive but fair, balancing the group's needs with individual freedoms. His charisma helps keep morale high among the members.
Lonely.
Quite.
Shy.
I was all of those things.
I was also a woman who’d just hit her head and lost her memories.
At least, that’s what they told me when I woke up and couldn’t recall who I was, where I came from, or what I looked like.
They showed me a picture of myself on their phone.
I had no idea if it was actually me or not.
All I knew was that I had nothing, no one, and no past once my memories disappeared.
So when they told me who I was, what I’d done, and where I belonged, I believed them.
They were the only people I knew.
They showed me pictures of myself with them, with the club, and on my bike.
They said I was one of them, that I’d been born into the life but had been given to a foster family because my mom had been strung out and couldn’t take care of me.
But once I turned eighteen, I’d come back to them and been with the club ever since.
It made sense.
I had no idea who my foster family was or if I even had one.
My past was gone, erased from my mind like it never existed.
I sat at the worn wooden table in the clubhouse, surrounded by men who said they were my family.
Jax slid more photos across the table to me, grainy snapshots of me on various bikes, at parties, and even one where I was counting a stack of cash.
My fingers traced the edges of each photo, trying to remember something, anything.
Duke placed his hand on my shoulder, his palm heavy and warm.
"Remember that time we rode up to the mountains? We camped out and drank until we couldn’t stand anymore."
He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You puked all over your own boots."
I smiled, pretending I remembered.
They told me stories about our past, about the rides we’d taken together and the pranks we’d pulled.
The memories felt hollow, like they belonged to someone else, but their laughter and warmth filled a void inside me that I hadn’t known existed.
Nox handed me a leather vest with their patch on it.
I took it from him, my hands shaking slightly as I slipped it over my shoulders.
The weight of it settled on me like armor, protecting me from the world outside these walls. "Welcome home," he said, his voice low and rough.
I sat at the bar counter, nursing a beer while Jax poured drinks and told more stories about our supposed past.
My fingers absently traced the worn patches on my leather vest, the ones that told the story of my life before I lost my memories.
"Remember that time we had a street race down by the docks? You outran the cops, and we had to hide out in an abandoned warehouse for a few days."
Jax chuckled, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"You were always the best at evading them. They never caught you."
I nodded, pretending to remember.
The stories sounded exciting, but they felt like watching someone else’s home movies.
I couldn’t quite place myself in them, no matter how hard I tried.
Duke slid onto the stool next to me, a plate of wings in front of him.
He nudged it toward me, his voice gruff as he said, "Eat up. You’ve got to keep your strength up."
I picked at a wing, my stomach growling slightly as I took a bite.
The flavors exploded on my tongue, and I closed my eyes for a moment to savor it.
Duke pulled out his phone and slid it across the bar to me.
"Check these out," he said, his voice filled with nostalgia.
I opened the phone and saw a collection of photos from past rallies and rides.
They were grainy and blurry, but I could make out figures in the background. I squinted at one photo in particular, trying to recognize myself in the sea of faces.
But I couldn’t find myself anywhere.
Maybe it was because I didn’t remember what I looked like before I lost my memories.
I only knew what I looked like now: long dark hair, hazel eyes, and a scar above my left eyebrow from when I hit my head.
A bell chimed above the bar’s front door as it swung open, letting in a blast of cold air.
I turned on my stool, looking through the haze of cigarette smoke toward the entrance.
The woman’s entrance drew my attention away from Duke’s stories.
She wore a black leather jacket and ripped jeans, her long blonde hair pulled back into a ponytail.
Her boots clicked on the floor as she strode confidently toward us, her eyes scanning the room.
She looked like she belonged in this world, but there was something different about her, something that set her apart from the rest of us.
She nodded to Jax and Duke as she approached our table, her gaze finally settling on me.
I shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny, feeling like an insect pinned to a board.
She studied my face, her eyes lingering on the scar above my temple.
"Hey," she said finally, her voice husky and confident.
"I’m Maya."
I swallowed hard, trying to remember if I’d ever met her before.
But like everything else in my life, she felt like a stranger. "Hey," I replied, my voice barely above a whisper.
"I’m…"
I hesitated, unsure what to say.
I didn’t know if I should use the name they’d given me or try to come up with something else entirely.
Maya smiled, her eyes crinkling at the corners.
"You don’t remember me, do you?"
I shook my head, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.
"I’m sorry. I hit my head and lost my memories. I don’t remember much."
Maya nodded sympathetically.
"We used to ride together all the time. You were one of my favorite people to be around."
She slid into the seat next to me, her arm brushing against mine.
"I’m glad you’re back."
I took another sip of my beer, trying to process everything that was happening.
It was surreal to hear that I’d had this whole life before I lost my memories.
It felt like someone else’s story, not mine. Maya leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper.
"I heard about what happened. I’m so sorry."
I nodded again, unsure what else to say.
It was strange hearing people talk about me like I was someone else entirely.
It made me feel like an outsider looking in on my own life.
Maya glanced over at Duke and Jax before turning back to me.
"They’ve been telling you stories about our past?"
I nodded once more, feeling a little overwhelmed by all the information being thrown at me.
"Yeah. They’ve been telling me stories about our rides and adventures together."
Maya smiled again, her eyes sparkling with amusement.
"Did they tell you about the time we got lost in the desert for two days?" she asked, her voice teasing.
I shook my head, intrigued.
"Well, let's just say it wasn't exactly an accident," Maya said, her expression turning serious.