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3… 2… 1…

The cameras rolled. On launch, more than a thousand people poured into the live stream. The chatroom filled with text and emojis, scrolling too fast to read. A dozen cameras captured the event. The microphones picked up every note of wood, metal, and concrete. The production team put up signs to warn everybody.

Welcome to the Rip City Skate Festival

If you can read this, we can see you

Be good or get caught on our livestream

Let’s not go viral for the wrong reasons

We appreciate your cooperation

Thanks for coming!

The gates didn’t open for an hour, but already several skaters warmed up on the ramps. They slid the rails, flew through the halfpipe. The clang and clatter echoed off the nearby buildings. The festival brought in some of the country’s best amateurs. Prizes ranged from cash to sponsorships.

The line to get in stretched down the block. Younger kids came with their families. Older kids, in groups with their friends. Some carried skateboards. Others had magazines or movie cases. Aliyah wasn’t the only one signing autographs that day.

A chain-link fence surrounded the event. Banners covered the sides with popular brands and advertisements. The entrance featured a giant poster from Triple Flip. Aliyah stood with her arms folded, wearing a beanie with a bill. Her hair was longer back then, not as curly. Kelvin lit up as they drove by it.

“That’s from Triple Flip!”

They pulled into a parking lot behind the judges’ booth. About a dozen spaces were taken by trailers and RVs. A small team waited for them, wearing staff shirts and headsets.

“Are you ready?” Aliyah asked.

Kelvin bounced in his seat. “Absolutely.” He put his fist up. “Let’s crush this.”

“See you out there.”

When they opened the doors, a gust of ocean air swept through the vehicle. Aliyah went with the women on the team. They took her into an RV for hair, makeup, and wardrobe. Tiffany joined them inside while Markus stood guard out front.

A scruffy kid in a stocking cap met Kelvin at his window. He looked young, no older than nineteen himself. His face was riddled with acne and the scars from treating it. Tufts of black hair stuck out of his cap.

“What up, bro?” He raised his hand, and they slapped palms like old friends. “Kelvin, right? Aliyah’s dude?”

“That’s me.”

The two leaned in and patted each other on the back. He gave the same welcome to Jamal. The big man tagged along to watch Kelvin. Aliyah split her team up that day to keep everybody safe.

“Roger that,” the coordinator said into his headset, “On our way.” He flipped up his microphone before pointing at them. “You guys like free stuff?”

A covered tent sat at the far end of the parking lot. The sign over the entrance read, “Staff Only.” He led them inside where a couple foldout tables ran along the sides. A mess of spare parts lay on one with boxes of clothing on the other. Somebody fixed their skateboard in the corner, tightening the wheels with a socket wrench.

At the first box, the coordinator pulled out a shirt and checked the size. The color matched their storefront, a pale baby blue. The back displayed their name, Rip City, in pink.

“Put this on.” He tossed it to Kelvin. “Shop wants all VIPs rocking their logo.”

He pulled out another for Jamal, but the big man waved it off. Those weren’t his colors.

The coordinator continued down the line after that. He searched the boxes, one by one, wrestling with the flaps. He passed on the beanies, the sweatbands, the keychains…

“Did you want to skate?” he asked, “I can get you a board if you didn’t bring one.”

“Nah, that’s okay. I don’t wanna embarrass myself.”

The coordinator chuckled then paused at the box with the stocking caps. A light bulb seemed to go off in his head. He grabbed one for Kelvin, thought about it, but then decided against it.

“I’ve hit that rail, by the way. The one you did at Regal, the thirteen.”

“Oh, for real? You saw the video?”

“Hell yeah, bro. That set is so sick. I hit it frontside last year. Scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

“Frontside? Damn, backside was scary enough.”

“Was that really first try? Like, with Aliyah there and everything?”

“Yeah, man… Best moment of my life.”

He smirked. “That’s gnarly.”

The last box on the table was still taped shut. He took out his pocket knife to cut it open. The flaps gave him trouble again. Inside, a batch of trucker hats peeked over the brim.

“Bingo!” He dug one out. “Bro, you like hats?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

He drew it back like a frisbee. “Here, let me try to ring it.”

The throw was bad, but Kelvin ducked under it in time. It landed on his head crooked. They celebrated like they won something. Jamal rolled his eyes.

“Alright, last thing.” The coordinator snapped his fingers. “What’s your shoe size?”

“I get shoes, too?”

“It’s a skate jam, bro. It’s all about the shoes.”

Kelvin almost squealed. A shirt, a hat, and shoes? He gawked at the pair he had on. The soles were starting to peel off. His toes nearly poked through the bottom. He wore the same ones on Aliyah’s day off. He called them lucky.

I’m getting so much stuff, he texted her, This is unreal.

That’s VIP, boy. Get used to it!

Once he was dressed, the coordinator took him on a tour of the venue. Jamal followed while snacking on some beef jerky. The wind whipped around the corner, blowing in off the ocean. The waves crashed against the beach. Vendors rushed to set up their booths and sweep away the sand. The scent of kettle corn wafted over from the food trucks.

The three of them wrapped up their tour in the VIP lounge. Behind the grandstand, a long platform overlooked the street course. The scaffolding rattled, covered in more banners and advertisements. Blue and pink streamers decorated the guardrails. A few tables were set out with skateboards as centerpieces. Some of the chairs had been blown over by the wind. The live stream played on a TV in the back. The lounge also included a tiki bar, serving free food and drinks to all VIPs. Kelvin got a soda with an umbrella straw.

The crowd cheered as the announcer walked onto the street course. He wore a festive top hat and twirled a cane at his side. The cameraman circled him from behind. Many of the athletes did one last trick before clearing out. One fell, smacking their helmet on the pavement.

In the judges’ booth, a panel of four talked among themselves.The stool in the middle was left open for Aliyah. A giant banner hung behind them with the names of the sponsors. Brands covered the tower from top to bottom.

When she arrived, the other judges welcomed her with hugs and handshakes. Her outfit made Kelvin spit up his drink. She wore an oversized button-up with a ratty tank top underneath. It resembled her look from Triple Flip. Her punk side always brought out the fan in him. Her beanie was the cherry on top.

The other woman on the panel dressed the same. She dyed her hair blue and pink for the event. A bike chain hung around her neck like a necklace.

“Make some noise,” she shouted into her microphone, “Aliyah Gavins is in the house, Miss Triple Flip herself!”

“What up, Rip City!”

The crowd roared. Behind them, Kelvin hollered and pumped his fist in the air. She peered over like she heard him. Their eyes met across the venue, and despite thousands of people watching, she waved.