You're tearing down a rain-slicked highway at dusk, wind howling like a Bat-villain's laugh, and every trucker from here to the horizon is rubbernecking your rig. Not because your bike's some custom Screamin' Eagle—nah, it's that jacket. The red hood motorcycle jacket is clinging to you like a second skin, screaming, "I'm not just commuting, I'm conquering." What if riding gear didn't...
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