Will rode the motorcycle down the interstate. He found himself growing more nervous the longer he rode. The original rider had almost certainly noticed his bike was gone by now. If there were any cops out this late at night, they would be on the look-out. The sooner he got to that motel, the better.
To his relief, Will could make out the neon of a sign off in the distance. Riding closer, he could see the words "Banister MOTEL" and below it, the word "Vacancy." Will pulled into the parking area. There was a two-story L-shaped building, lined with windows and doors. A proper motel if Will had ever seen one. This would be perfect. Will parked his bike in the parking lot and was about to leave it when he had a better idea. The cops would be on the look-out for this bike, he thought. Perhaps he was being paranoid, but it was better to be paranoid than to be arrested. That was the last thing he needed. He didn't want to squander a single moment of his new found adulthood in some smelly cell.
Will walked the bike around the side of the building, and left it behind what seemed to be a tool shed. He took the keys and hoped it would be enough to keep somebody else from stealing it from him. Will then took a moment to search through the bike's saddlebags, curious to see what the previous owner had left in them. There, Will found a small first aid kit, a small tool kit, some loose change, an unopened pack of cigarettes, a couple cigars, and some other bits and bobs Will couldn't quite make out in the dark. With a grin, Will pocketed the change, cigarettes, and cigars and made his way to the motel.
Will walked into the main lobby and spied a sleepy-eyed man watching a TV at the front desk. The man saw Will enter and turned down the TV volume and gave a friendly smile.
"Hello, sir," said the man, with a thin Indian accent.
Will decided to put on his tough act again. He found it entertaining when he'd made that teenager squirm at the gas station. "I need a room for the night," he said gruffly.
Unfaltering, the man continued to smile and nodded. "Of course! Let me just..." The man leaned over behind the counter and opened up a small book. Taking out a pen he looked up at Will. "Your name, sir?"
"It's..." Will, being paranoid, wasn't quite sure about giving out his real name. He would need a clever and unshakable alias. "Bill," he said. So, clever and unshakable weren't quite Will's strong suites. Oh, well.
"Bill...?" said the man, reaching for more.
"Just Bill," Will said, gruffer than before. He reached up and began cracking his knuckles. "That's not a problem, is it?" he said darkly.
The man behind the counter sighed. It was late and he really didn't want trouble. Besides, it wasn't like people never used fake names at the motel. He could respect that some people wanted their privacy. They didn't have to be so... threatening about it.
"Of course not... Bill," he said. He reached under the counter and pulled out a key with a large tag reading "207".
"Room 207, sir," said the man behind the counter. "Second floor, north wing."
Will snatched the key without so much as a "thank you," and left the man by himself. The room was easy enough to find, once he figured out what part of the building the north wing was. The room was small, consisting of a single double bed, a night stand with a lamp, a small television, and a bathroom. Will found himself to be very tired as all the excitement of the day caught up to him. To think, that morning he had been a weak little thirteen year old. Now he was a big, strong man! He'd made out with a woman, won a fight, got some cool new tattoos, and even got a bike. Well, stole a bike, but the point was he had it now.
Will went to the bathroom to have a look at himself in the mirror. Much of his beard seemed to be grey, and his head seemed to be shaved. You could tell by the stubble where his hairline had receded to, but Will thought the whole thing made him look more intimidating, which he liked. He could do without the extra weight, though. The solid gut annoyed him somewhat as he patted it. He tried guessing how old he was, but found it difficult. His grey beard and shaved head made him look older, but he didn't really feel that old. He felt a dull ache in his lower back, but that was really it. Looking closer, he was surprised to see faint lines in the corners of his eyes and on his forehead.
Will stifled a yawn. Boy, was he tired. He could do this more, tomorrow. Right now he needed to get some sleep. After turning off the lights, Will flopped into bed and promptly feel asleep, still fully clothed save for his shoes and socks.
As Will slept, his curse began to take over, once again. Will had been a busy boy that day. As such, the curse had seen a lot of action during its short effect on Will's life. The grey in Will's beard began spreading, again, almost taking over. His beard was certainly more grey than black, now. The thin band of stubble that separated Will's hairline form his bald spot faded away, joining the two; all Will had left was a horseshoe fringe of stubble. Will's body hair actually thickened slightly, with bits of grey appearing amongst the hairs on his chest and back. Will's stomach also began to enlarge. His new sedentary lifestyle was taking a toll on his body. His stomach expanded and began to slump over his waistband. Love handles developed and his chest softened somewhat. Will was really beginning to effect the tough biker look with his large gut, tatoos, shaved head, and grey beard. His beard even grew out a little more, becoming scragglier. Will had aged from 39 to 42. Too bad he wouldn't know until the next day.