2025-02-13 - Skateboard Prince and the Bank of Mom

There's the usual crew here; those with bikes, scooters, roller blades/skates, and skateboards. It's the weekend and the weather is actually NICE out. The sun is warm and any hint of snow is long gone and melted. There's warm snaps like this during the season and some people cannot exactly wait for it to be a blistering thousand degrees out for them to get some half pipe action. The group of bikes seems to be utilizing that obstacle in a gang sort of gathering; they are not a gang but it's obvious they are friends. There's a few skaters in between them and for the rest of the park is fairly free for all and people waiting to take turns on obstacles if it gets too crowded.

Jett is up there on the half-pipe with the bike class. His board is set up so that the tail of it rests against the half pipe's ledge and his other foot is keeping sturdy as he seems to be up next for the obstacle. When the last bike clears he jumps onto the board and sends it over the ramp, kneeling down to adjust his center of gravity close to the board for the abrupt descent into the half-pipe as he picks up speed, barreling for the other side of the pipe like his idol Tony Hawk. The board doesn't slip out from under his feet like some folks might experience and which he's experienced enough to be able to manage the drop now without that happening. As he surges up the other side he does a frontside smith grind which has the board literally grind against the ledge of the pipe before he sends it back down and pops to the otherside with a rock fakie, dips back in the half pipe and then does a 50/50 stall which puts the board's wheels fifty percent on the top of the pipe and other other waiting for him to do a ninety degree pivot to descend back in. This time as he comes up to the rim of the half pipe he just jumps up as his hand grabs his board, exiting the half-pipe and allowing the next person up.

He leans over a bit as he puts his hands on his knees, board settled under one foot, watching the action from his new vantage point. There's a slight shake in him because the half-pipe was always a pure rush of adrenaline.

Unlike his last foray into the skate park, today we see a much more casual and at-ease Josh. Either he's high or some-fucking-thing has changed in his life to give him new perspective. He's wearing light-gray colored UCLA sweat pants, beat-up white Adidas sneakers, and a black baggy T-shirt depicting the Eye of Sauron peering out and judging everyone here. Maybe that's why he's so calm? He has the great flaming, lidless eye on his side?

Nobody greets Josh as he enter because nobody here knows him because he spends too much of his time isolated away from people. Really, his only interaction with people outside of his small social circle is at the Winding Vine recommending and selling books. He climbs up on a picnic table near the skaters. He sits on the tabletop and rests his feet on the seat. It's not a bad place to hang out on a nice day like this. You can watch cute guys showing off, and there is enough of a crowd that you can disappear into it.

Finally, though, his gaze does find someone he knows. It's Jett up there doing moves that Josh doesn't know the names of or even understand. But it looks damned impressive, and one side of his face curls up in a lopsided grin. "That was sick," he says when Jett completes his run. "You're really good at that."

Jett stands out from other people, mostly because of his monotone skin - the black and white affect of his wardrobe against his skin certainly plays a part. His ashen zombie colored skin is full on like a beacon to the eyes; other people have gotten used to it but he still stands out when there's not other people with tails, wings, lizard skin, and who the heck knows what else out there. He's wearing the typical skater goth vibe today; black long sleeved form fitting sweater, a short sleeved flannel button up of blue, black, and white, and black jeans with his abused vans on his feet. He's decorated in chains, on hip, on neck, bracelets, and his other piercings have all been accessorized accordingly to his look today; nose, lip, and brow all staying mostly the same, but ears are variations of junk jewelry he's made.

His hand rakes through his string raven feathered hair as he straightens from gaining his breath back. Freaking adrenaline. His eyes cast toward the voice coming from the audience, which could be from the bleachers or the picnic tables. He up nods at Josh when he recognizes the other guy, "It gets the heart fucking racing! Thanks man." A beat, "Where's your board?" He enthuses as he steps to the edge of the half pipe's table, leaning against the railing.

Josh's gaze travels all over Jett's form. He's not leering at him, but rather taking in each of the many elements of the accoutrements of goth skaterness: the black clothes, the piercings, the jewelry, and, of course, the monotone skin. At his heart, Josh is a nerd, an outsider, an observer of life more than a participant. And if something about Jett's curious skin tone disturbs Josh he displays no sign of it. He lives with a literal lion boy and a blacksmith with bull horns and hooves. So weird is there he lives. Literally.

For his part, Josh's newfound calmness is definitely not from drugs. He doesn't smell like weed, he doesn't seem high, his sclera are white, his pupils are normal. He's just...relaxed apparently. It's curious given that he literally fled this place on foot not too long ago.

"I don't have one," Josh confesses. "I didn't even think I'd end up here. I just went for a walk to get away from a computer or a TV or a phone. Somehow I ended up here." One shoulder briefly rises in a half-shrug. "Honestly, I think the last time I was on a skateboard I was like ten and trying to learn how to ollie and I fell and practically split my head open. I had stitches on my scalp." He exhales sharply through his nose, grinning a bit. "From ages 0 through, I dunno, 16 I musta had a hundred stitches."

There was a long waiting queue to use the pipe again and Jett up nods to a few of the people up there with him as he heads to the edge of the half pipe once Joshua answers that he doesn't have one. Jett gives him a gesture to hold up and he scrambles down with his board and walks over toward the picnic table. Jett is better able to assess Joshua's 'state' of being as he gets closer. "The park is bussin'," he grins with a half shrug as he turns and sits up on the table part alongside Joshua, putting the board up against the picnic table, "Lots of flex here." Never mind that he just did.

"You do roll in clumsy," he amuses over at the other guy, considering the last entrance that Joshua made it's the second first impression Jett got so he's not entirely surprised that's Joshua's story. "You'd have to sort out your center of gravity before you rode," he thinks about this and asks, "Ever try calisthenics?" He's sincere about that, "I use it a lot to build up my core strength." He also gives Joshua a clap on the shoulder, "Besides, skateboarding is about the fall. I've fallen a lot to get to where I am. No cap."

"So what's behind your glow up? You look solid." Jett compliments in a strictly Jett way.

"I'm not clumsy," Josh replies with juuuuuuust a tiny bit of spiciness in his voice. That, in itself, is a solid evolution for Josh, to be in this crowded public place and express a thought besprinkled with a touch of fire. "I fell that one time in the rec center." For a brief instant he lifts his T-shirt revealing a toned, athletic form, then immediately releases it so it drops back down. "There is nothing wrong with my core. I run, like..." He glances upwards toward the sky and flares out his hands in an I-don't-know gesture."...five to twenty miles a day depending on the day."

And here we observe a crack in the armor, a manifesting of Old Josh who likely barely managed to show up here to test his newfound, albeit fragile dominance over a crippling social anxiety disorder. He wraps his arms around his midsection and leans forward with elbows on his thighs as he sits up on the top of that picnic table--a lowering of his profile. It's not easy for Joshua to sit here in front of this big crowd, talking to one of the princes of the skate park. That's Advanced Socialization.

"I not afraid of falling," he says in a lower tone, his gaze peering at the ground. There is a new thing here, though, as he stares at the ground just like Old Josh stared at the ground, but he lacks the social nuance to realize it: our boy is a little bit angry. His hands wrap in fists, his nostrils flare, his cheeks fill with a ruddiness. New Josh still battles this beast but now does so with a hint of vigor.

So much for the brief-lived glow up. Josh doesn't respond to that question or that Jett-compliment.

Jett's chin pulls up as he pivots a look over at the spiciness that's echoed back at him, his hands coming up off his lap to de-escalate the mood, "No shade, don't be pressed. I got a sense you were a little wobbly. You can always prove me wrong," he nods down to the skateboard, his skateboard which had an underside covered in stickers. "That one time was it, to lay down the works in my brain," he explains about his perception of the matter and how first impressions go. Then he's suddenly flashed with a lifted T-shirt and Jett puts his hand up to shield his eyes from the glowing abs, "Sheeeeeesh!" It's followed with a quiet laugh, a few bubbles of it before he waves Joshua down from being so spicy. "I see you, take a seat friend," he leans back on the table with both hands, clearly not phased about it.

Jett is not unaware of how Josh starts to become a little more closed off again, the physical position of how he sits changing right before Jett's eyes. He doesn't remark directly on it, keeping his own posture open and relaxed, as one of the princes of the skatepark.

Jett lifts up a brow at Joshua's lowered tone but more so he's aware of how Joshua's hands curl and the nostrils flaring. He doesn't comment on the 'not afraid of falling' piece but rather on Joshua's present state of being with a simple, "Hey, you good?"

Like fire and powder, Josh's flares come up fast and vanish fast. The insidious assault of anxiety is that it leaves you embattled and worn but there is no enemy, nobody or nothing to fight, it is the invisible, unseeable assailant that takes then devours then vanishes into nothingness. And so it goes for Josh.

"Sorry," he says in a soft tone. "You really intimidate me," he confides. Honesty is his special gift. "And all these dudes are all glancing over here wondering who the asshole talking to Jett is."

What did his counselor tell him? Act happy until you are happy. So Josh reaches up with both hands and tucks his unruly hair back behind his ears, and looks over at Jett with a sudden, winning smile. "Yeah. I'm good." He chin-nods toward Jett's board. "Maybe if I get one over at Ruby's you could show me some basics." Then he quickly adds in a shrug, that emotional armor he expertly wields. "Y'know, if you wanted to. No biggie."

Yeah, the undertones of his expression might suggest otherwise.

Jett tilts his head toward Joshua at his soft apology followed by the confession that Jett was intimidating. He glances back to the people on the half pipe that probably aren't giving a shit about who Jett is talking to, before he glances back at Joshua all the same with a smirk on his face. "I never thought my face was intimidating enough..." he is taking this all as a compliment, "And don't pay them any mind. If you start to board or grab a bike or whatever, they'll loosen up." He rolls his head back a little to look up, still resting on the palms on his hand poised behind him on the table top, "If anything they're probably trying to gauge if you're Gabe." There's a thin line that crosses his lips, a smile that's quietly there.

Jett's eyebrow arches up at the sudden winning smile and his expression flattens, "Nawh man, don't do that." He calls out the fakeness of it, "If you don't feel it, don't do it otherwise you'll get stuck in a loop of having to wear that false mask all the time. A smile is good only if it means something, you know. If you use it all the time no one will believe it when you do want to smile. It's all we got; the expressions of ourselves." He can get deep when he wants to. A growl of agreement announces his eventual, "Yeah man if you pick up a board I'll be around here. I'm loads busy but there's always time to slide in 'boardin." He makes it seem like not a big deal either, offering, "Send me a text you know."

"If I'm 'gabe'?" Joshua says curiously. "I dunno what that is." From his tone, words, and expression it's clear that his brain is treating it like an adjective, not a name. He shrugs a little. People who live in the margins are accustomed to often not knowing what people are talking about.

Josh reaches down and flicks some dirt off of his shoe. It's a pretty beat-up shoe and the ritual act of cleaning doesn't do much for it. It's probably more akin to when he picked the candy wrapper up off the floor at the game room: nervous energy needs an outlet. "I don't think of it as fake or dishonest. It's more like..." He mostly closes one eye, causing that cheek to rise a bit in concentration as he thinks for a moment. "...like a calibration, y'know? It's harder to stay negative when you're smiling. Fake it 'til you make it. The smile isn't the destination, it's the journey." Another of his famous shrugs. Oh look, there is some dirt on his other shoe. He flicks it off. "It's like singing. My counselor told me when I get angry about something I should sing out loud what I think is pissing me off. And it works. It's super hard to stay pissed while you're singing your feelings." He laughs a bit, looking downward, clearly feeling awkward about sharing this stuff with someone as fucking cool as Jett...with one of the princes.

He peers over at Jett. "Imma stop at Ruby's later and see if they got any boards."

"Yeah," Jett amuses over Joshua's curiosity, "I'm with someone; with Gabe. They haven't really had time to come by here and watch me board, which is probably a good thing. I'd get fucking distracted." He muses and then suddenly hollers out a cheer and rises up onto the bench clapping when someone spills and gets back up from their crash.

After he sits back down he doesn't lean back this time put props his elbows on his upper thighs, hanging his hands between his knees. He side glances over toward Joshua when the other guy protests against it being fake and then in the same moment uses fake it 'till you make it. "That's contradiction," he points out, "I'd stick with the calibration bit, that made sense. The fake it till you make it, well, I guess we all have probably experienced that but it's not your truth really." Jett rubs his fingers together and plays with the various junk hand made rings decorating his fingers and wipes idly at the black polish still on his nails. He lifts a brow at the advice to sing, "Aight, so I know you're really pissed if you sing." He considers a moment, "I get really fucking quiet when I'm mad. Or. Hah... try to beat someone's face in. There's like two modes and I'm not sure which one is worse."

"Oh yeah? Well don't buy an expensive one for your first board. You need a solid one, for sure, but chances are you might break it learning, so, don't invest too heavily until you get better at it." He pats down to his own board, "This one is my second one. The first one broke during a grind. I mean, it's really fucking hard to break the boards too, they can take a lot, but yeah. That's my advice."

Josh doesn't really have much to say about the possibility of being mistaken as Jett's SO. In fact, the topic seems to make him a bit uncomfortable. But at least he has an out. Jett's sudden, triumphant cheer startles Josh. He jumps off the table and looks up at Jett standing up on the bench. His face blossoms into a big smile, caught up in the abrupt energy.

Two skaters walk past with an upnod to Jett. Josh just gets a blank, neutral look from them.

"I'm not...I'm not Gabe," he says to them as they pass. They just look at each other and keep going. Josh has the social skills of a damp graham cracker.

When Jett talks about how much board he should buy, Josh tugs his phone out of his pocket, which is in a case with one of those pockets for ID and credit cards on the back. He pats the pocket. "Mom's credit card. She'll get mad if I buy something cheap." He smiles broadly and squints a bit as a cloud moves, shining sunlight directly on his face. He puts up a hand to shield his eyes.

Jett up nods back to the skaters that glide passed and pay them no further mind than that. It's hard to say if he notices the neutral look or not. It's Joshua's reaction that has him suddenly cracking up, looking over at Josh and giving him a little soft swat to the leg, "You don't need to do that." A crooked grin still holds as he looks back over at those who passed by.

It's the phone that Josh pulls out and credit card of the bank of mom paired with that sentiment is what makes Jett's previous expression melt away to something that makes him scrunch his nose and look aside. "Yeah, alright," his tone flat as he pushes up off the bench, leaning down to grab his skateboard when he does so.

And there it is, the great divide that eternally separates the haves from the have-nots. It's no more Josh's fault that he was born into wealth than it is Jett's that he was not. It's just The Way of the World.

Seeing Jett get up, Josh lifts a hand in a small wave. "I'll, um, text you when I get a board, okay?" Josh may not have much in the way of social skills but he grew up bullied and abused by his peers, so he has a black belt in sensing when the environment shifts out from under him. That's usually when the flight part of his fight-or-flight kicks in. That is why he runs so much and so far. Shifting his weight from one leg to the other, he gives off the vibe of an animal about to bolt.

"Thanks for...thanks for hanging," he murmurs as he starts to walk with his head down. He looks like he wants to run for some reason, but he won't do it. Not again. No even Josh won't run in shame from this skate park twice. Not even Josh.

There's likely more to it in that moment other than the bank of mom and Jett is quite used to the fact that there are richer people around him all day every day, he works at the theme park after all. But whatever it was made Jett uncomfortable and peeved.

So when he looks over at Joshua he does so with one of those 'fake it until you make it smiles' that Joshua was pulling on him a moment ago, "Yeah, sounds good." In the next moment his expression falls flat again as he starts to head toward his sanctuary; the skatepark... the great equalizer where trash like him can be accepted and thought of as a prince.

Jett lifts his arm in a sort of departing gesture toward Joshua and calls out, "Later."