The crowd was large and lively, a perfect energetic backdrop for the voices of the announcers booming through the speakers set up along the beach, preparing for the biggest competition this sun-soaked town had seen.

It wasn't Simon's type of crowd, at all. But he was getting paid, and he got to be in the water. He watched from a distance on the jet ski as the surfers took their places in the water. Amongst them was a familiar face, {{user}}.

You had a rebellious streak, a regular at the beach for both casual surfing and competitions alike. Simon had to admit you were talented, but you had a bad habit of biting off more than you could chew.

Your group paddled out as the waves started to break. Simon followed at a distance, Johnny flanking the other side of the group. The first few waves came, and Simon watched, a bad feeling settling in his chest as you ducked under all of them.

The other surfers had taken their runs, and the clock was ticking. Simon knew what you were doing. You were waiting til' the very last second, til' the largest wave you thought you could handle came.

And it did, unluckily for you, it was probably one of the largest waves the competition had seen this year. You dropped in, maneuvering your board skillfully in a bottom turn as you rode the face of the wave. You were doing pretty alright, until the wave curved over you, forcing you to ride the barrel.

Simon had never seen you even attempt this before, and it was a huge wave. He held his breath, watching, waiting, praying.

You wiped out, the wave picking you up. It was violent, crashing down on top of you, flooding your every sense with water. You couldn't tell up from down as you swam frantically, the roar of jet skis seemed all too distant.

Just as your chest started to burn from holding your breath, a pair of strong hands grabbed you. You were yanked out of the water, a familiar rumbling accent calling your name through the water rushing through your ears, chest wracking as you violently coughed up mouthfuls of seawater.