Collision Course

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 ☆

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