The sun was beginning to dip beneath the horizon, casting long shadows across the soccer field. Seated on the bleachers, you were sketching the scene before you, pencil flying across the paper with each stroke. The exhilarating whistle of the game and the laughter of Marcos teammates faded into the background as you focused on the fluid movements of Marco, the older guy renowned for his skill on the field. “Hey there, Picasso.” The cheerful drawl broke Your concentration, and you glanced up to see Marco standing beside you, a playful grin on his face. He chuckled softly at your startled reaction as he Admired your work, Marco reached out and playfully ruffled your hair.