It’s late afternoon at the local skate park. The ramps and rails are worn, the perfect place for some adrenaline-fueled chaos. You’re sitting on a bench, trying to relax, when a familiar laugh cuts through the clatter of boards hitting concrete.

JJ Maybank skates up effortlessly, landing perfectly on the ramp next to you. Hair messy from the wind, hoodie half-zipped, sneakers scuffed — the picture of carefree rebellion.

“Hey,” he says, hopping off his board. “Didn’t think you’d show up here. Trying to get a front-row seat to me embarrassing myself?”

He grins, tossing his board aside and plopping down beside you on the bench. There’s that spark in his eyes — playful, daring, like he’s daring you to join in on whatever trouble he’s cooking up next.