heyy,

okay alright, i'll keep this short.

Hey everyone, my name is siim and i like writing i've been scribbling in my journal for a while now haha wanted to post that wattpad didn't fancied me so imma try this one. i'll try to keep the words and grammar correct as it's my first time actually trying something like this, so yeah... if i make any mistake haha i'm apologizing beforehand :P

cya in first episode

byee

siim ☆

[ignore this bs :p]

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It was one of those golden late afternoons, the kind that makes everything look like a music video—sunlight slashing through the trees, dust dancing in the air, and the distant buzz of traffic fading into the background. The skatepark was alive: wheels scraping concrete, kids yelling, music thumping from someone's speaker near the half-pipe.

And then there was you, Moon—curled up under a tree at the edge of the park, sitting cross-legged on the patchy grass like you didn’t give a single damn about the chaos around you. Headphones in, head bobbing, fingers drumming against your thighs to some internal beat. You were a vision—tanned skin catching the light, curls a wild halo, silver rings flashing every time your hand moved. Band tee clinging to your shoulder, low-slung cargo pants and a thick belt loaded with chains and attitude.

You weren’t trying to be noticed.

Which is probably why I couldn’t stop staring.

I was already moving too fast.

Board under me, wind in my ears, hoodie half-off one shoulder, jeans hanging low, a fresh bandage across my cheek from a fall earlier that day. I was doing one last trick—just one more—and maybe I was watching you more than the ramp—

BAM.

The moment hit like a damn explosion.

I swerved too hard. Wheel caught. My board shot out like a bullet.

I flew.

And next thing I knew—

CRASH.

I was on top of you.

Full body impact. My chest slammed into yours, elbows buckled, and we hit the ground in a tangle of limbs, rings, hoodie strings, curls, and cursing.

“F**k—!” I groaned, breath knocked out of me, blinking at the sudden sky—

Then your face came into focus. Eyes wide. Lips parted.

You looked like you were gonna kill me or kiss me.

“Oh shit—are you—are you okay?” I scrambled off you, face flushed, hands hovering like I didn’t know what to do with them. “I swear to god, I wasn’t trying to literally fall for you—”

The fuck—? I was about to get the beat right!”

Your voice hit me sharper than the fall. I froze, crouched over you, trying not to laugh and wince at the same time. My knees were in the dirt, palms braced awkwardly on either side of you. Your curls were all over the place, lips parted in this mix of rage and disbelief, and that little glint in your eyes? That spark?

Yeah, I was toast.

“Shit—sorry, sorry,” I muttered, eyes scanning the grass around us. “Headphones… uh…”

And then I saw them. Crushed slightly under my hip.

Still plugged into your phone.

Still playing the beat you were drumming to.

I reached for them, fingers brushing over your thigh as I lifted the cord gently, trying not to make it more awkward than it already was. But it already was.

“Please tell me they’re not broken,” I said, holding them up to you like a guilty kid holding a cracked toy. “Or I’ll buy you new ones. Or like… a whole drum kit. I dunno. Depends how mad you are.”

Your jewelry clinked as you snatched them from my hands, inspecting them with the precision of someone who took music very seriously. I stayed kneeling there, watching you like a kicked puppy with a skateboard.

And then I added, sheepishly:

“Cool rings, by the way. They almost left permanent damage.”

I smiled. That same crooked grin that said I was definitely trouble, but maybe the kind worth sticking around for

[ hey yall i made this episode long af haha have fun]

siim ☆

“Fuck… they’re gone…”

You said it so softly, like the realization had just punched the air out of your lungs. The beat you were building in your head, that rhythm only you could hear—shattered. One of the earcups was cracked clean through, wires frayed and hanging. The little things looked like they'd survived wars before, but this time? My dumbass just sent them to headphone heaven.

I looked at you—really looked. You weren’t just mad. You looked… betrayed. Like I’d messed with something sacred.

My chest sank. For a second, I didn’t have anything smart or flirty to say. No dumb jokes. Just this sinking feeling that I ruined your moment.

I sat back on my heels, running a hand through my already messy hair.

“Shit… Moon, right?” I said quietly, reading the name on your stick bag slung beside you. “Look, I swear I wasn’t aiming for you. I was just… skating. Saw you. Got distracted. And yeah—I fucked up. Let me fix it.”

I pulled out my phone from my hoodie pocket, still scratched from earlier.

“Give me your number. I’ll send you money for new ones. And maybe some noise-canceling ones, so next time you won’t have to hear me crashing into your life.”

I looked up, and this time there wasn’t a grin—just me. Honest. Embarrassed. And kinda hoping you'd throw your drumstick at me just so I could say I deserved it.

“Noise cancelling headphones won’t stop an idiot from crashing all over me.”

Oof. Okay. That one stung a little—but goddamn, the way you said it? Deadpan. Sharp. The kind of line that should’ve sent me packing with my tail between my legs.

But instead?

I smiled. Wider. Because holy shit, you were fire.

“Okay, ouch,” I laughed, leaning back on my hands in the grass like I’d just been roasted by the sun itself. “But fair. I deserved that. Maybe I need a helmet. For life.”

You sat up slowly, curls falling over your eyes, still inspecting the damage with this mix of fury and resignation. Your shirt slipped slightly off your shoulder, and I swear for a second—my mouth opened to say something, anything, and nothing came out.

So I reached for my board, flipped it up, and offered you a hand.

“Let me make it up to you. You hungry? There’s a food truck like three blocks from here that makes the greasiest, unhealthiest quesadillas on earth. I’ll even carry your broken headphones like a memorial offering.”

I cocked a brow.

“Unless you’d rather sit here glaring at me until I spontaneously combust. Which, honestly? Would be kinda hot.”

siim ☆