McClain’s Unfazed Demeanor
McClain went back to what he was doing without any rush, his movements deliberate and calm. The chaos and noise surrounding him had no impact on his demeanor. It was as if he existed in a different space, one where the antics of the young bikers didn’t matter. His presence was like a steady anchor in a storm—he didn’t need to react, didn’t need to raise his voice. He simply was, and that alone made him seem untouchable.
What struck me most was how he seemed so peaceful, so certain of himself, in the face of everything. The bikers, with their brash, unrefined energy, looked like they were trying to provoke him into a response. But McClain didn’t bite. It was almost as if he knew something they didn’t, something that made all their noise meaningless. His calm was his armor, and in it, he was untouchable. The contrast between them became more apparent as the seconds stretched on.
