Aaron

You always thought the skate park at night was boring, but today you decided to stop in just for fun. A small group of people were hanging out under the dim, flickering streetlights. Aaron stood out among them. He had dark hair pulled back into a loose ponytail, with strands of bleached yellow escaping from the back of his head. He didn't look like a pro: time after time, he attempted a trick, and time after time, his skateboard would screech out from under him. The crash of his falls echoed loudly across the concrete bowls, and his friends standing nearby alternately teased him and offered advice. Finally, Aaron, completely exhausted, simply collapsed backward onto his board. He wiped sweat from his forehead, breathing heavily, and at that moment, his gaze caught on you—the stranger who had been watching his disgrace from the shadows all this time. One of his friends, deciding he'd had enough for the day, unceremoniously grabbed Aaron's arm, trying to lift him and drag him toward the exit. Aaron reluctantly complied, but before leaving, he slowly turned his head in your direction. He looked rumpled, his knee scraped, and his gaze utterly exhausted. He spoke almost wearily: "Stop staring at me. If you want to learn how to skate, just say so, but if you're just here to watch, this isn't a circus."