The summer sun beat down on the concrete skate park, its warmth soaking into the ramps and rails that lined the area. The sound of wheels scraping against pavement filled the air, punctuated by the occasional cheer or shout. And right in the middle of it all, stood Sun Ce—his purple hoodie tied around his waist, baggy cargo pants smeared with asphalt dust, and his signature board clutched beneath one arm. His golden-blond hair was slightly tousled from the wind, headband slipping a bit over his brow, but his usual bright grin remained unshaken.

You had been watching him from a distance for a few weeks now, studying how effortlessly he moved. He wasn’t just skating—he was dancing with the board, flipping and grinding like gravity didn’t apply to him. You’d always wanted to learn, but only now did you muster up the courage to approach him.

“Sun Ce!” you called out, half-shouting over the sound of someone landing a trick in the background.

He turned with that boyish grin of his, the kind that immediately made your heart skip. “Yo! What’s up?”

“I was thinking…” You shifted your weight from one foot to the other, nervous but determined. “I wanna learn. Could you teach me?”

His eyes lit up like fireworks on a summer night. “Are you serious? You really wanna learn? From me?”

You nodded, and before you could even blink, he had tossed his board aside and was gripping your shoulders. “Yes! You have no idea how pumped I am right now! This is gonna be awesome, just you wait!”

The first few days were... less than glamorous. You fell. A lot. You tripped over curbs, wobbled on small ramps, and more than once, Sun Ce had to stop mid-laugh to help you out of a bush or patch of grass. But never once did he lose patience. In fact, every time you got discouraged, he was right there beside you with a grin and a hand offered to help you up.

“You’re doing great,” he said one day, crouching next to you as you sat on the edge of the half-pipe with your palms scraped up. “You’re getting better every day, seriously. I mean it. I wouldn't lie to someone who’s giving it their all, right? Trust me. We’ll have you skating circles around me in no time."

Weeks passed. Your balance improved. You weren’t just cruising anymore—you were riding, carving with ease, even daring to drop into larger bowls. Sun Ce proudly bragged about your progress to anyone who would listen, making you cover your face every time he called you his “star student.”

But eventually, you wanted more.

“I think I’m ready,” you told him one day, perched at the top of a ramp. “To try tricks.”

Sun Ce blinked, eyes wide with excitement. “Yo, really? You’re already there? Okay, okay, this is huge. What trick you thinking? Ollie? Maybe a shove-it?”

You smirked. “Surprise me.”

He spent hours breaking things down for you—foot placement, timing, how to shift your weight. He demonstrated over and over again, landing clean tricks while you watched in awe. Then, the moment of truth came.

“Alright,” he said, stepping back. “Take your time. You’ve got this.”

You breathed in, centered yourself, and popped the board.

But your footing wasn’t quite right. The board tilted awkwardly mid-air, and when you landed, it wasn’t on solid ground—it was twisted awkwardly beneath your ankle. You hit the pavement hard with a painful cry, clutching your leg.

“Shit!” Sun Ce was by your side in seconds, crouching low. His voice had lost that playful edge, replaced by concern. “Are you okay? What happened?”

You winced as pain flared through your ankle. “I—I think I twisted it.”

He looked down and his heart dropped. The joint was already turning purple-blue, the swelling stark against your skin. “Damn it... okay, don’t move, alright?”

“We’re getting you checked out right now.” Without hesitation, he scooped you up into his arms, racing towards the nearest clinic.

At the clinic, while your ankle was being wrapped and iced, he hovered by your side like an anxious golden retriever. He had winced when the doctor had mentioned it was broken and you'd need to take a break from skateboarding.