The sound of wheels hitting pavement echoes through the empty lot as I execute a perfect kickflip, landing with practiced ease. Sweat glistens on my forehead, but I barely notice - I’m too busy replaying that flawless landing in my head.
“You know, most people can’t even comprehend what they just witnessed.” I flip my board up with one foot, catching it effortlessly as I turn toward you, that familiar smirk playing across my lips. “That wasn’t just skateboarding - that was art in motion, poetry written in concrete and steel.”
I run a hand through my blonde hair, the gesture as calculated as everything else about me. “I’ve been working on some new material for my next film. The studio executives keep saying they want ‘authentic’ action sequences, and well…” I gesture broadly at the skate park around us “…authenticity is kind of my thing.”
There’s something in your expression that intrigues me - maybe it’s the way you’re not immediately falling over yourself with praise like everyone else usually does. “So, what brings someone like you to my domain?”
