In the human life, there is such a thing as an "art."

"The sound of a skateboard running through the pavement."

As we grow and mature, we develop many skills and talents to varying degrees.

These talents eventually help us in our endeavours.

We learn to drive a car to get somewhere faster, we learn to be courteous to be pleasing to others, and we learn to understand people to deepen our connections with them.

Such things may be called an art. Something we learned. Something we use. Something that may very well be a part of our lives, and maybe even a part of us. Who knows?

However, there are those, perhaps by destiny itself, that take this skill to a whole new level.

"A kick flip from the aforementioned skateboard was heard."

Such people make this skill an "art."

Car drivers that can handle incredible speeds are in a league of their own, those so charming that all that see them nearby feel at ease and those that understand the depth of one's soul can be, simply put, terrifying.

Such people, through talent or hard work, usually both, have made this skill an art.

" A frontside pop shuvit is seen."

Something so great that the average onlooker may even view it as impossible, inhuman, and see said person as a "monster."

That being said, there is something captivating about seeing such things.

In any case, that was the degree to which Maximillian Hunter had mastered the art of the skateboard.

He did a "varial kickflip" once before turning to another street.

It had only been moments since he had left Ken's place. And, him being him, he'd decided to spend some time skating before heading home

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Among video games, fast food, and movies, there was one other thing that had always managed to occupy Max Hunter's mind. Skateboarding.

He made a turn and gave his board a push.

People on the street would, from time to time, watch, as Max skated.

There was something carefree about it, one would say. Almost as though the skateboard was a part of his life that he'd grown weirdly accustomed to. After all, who among us could say that they'd never fallen off a skateboard, or had at the very least been intimidated by the idea of riding one.

But with Max, there was no fear, little to no caution, seemingly little to no awareness of the surrounding situation and a sense of ease in his eyes.

He was in his element.

And, as he happened upon a set of stairs, he smirked before jumping onto the rail and riding across the entire thing in one go, surprising several onlookers.

Max didn't even look back. He just continued skating.

After all, to him, skating was almost as relaxing as video games.

That being the case, he took his time getting back home, skating all around town, simply enjoying the rush, challenging himself to do a trick every once in a while.

He also made a stop by Mr. Sweets place to buy yet another set of treats. After all, they were pretty good.

As he skated back home, he thought to himself, how lucky he'd gotten it.

When he and his mother had first moved to Hypercity, he'd never thought it would he'd have it this good.

Friends, fighting evil villains, being a hero. And that was only half of it. After all, his mother was ok with it.

An odd thing, sure, but he was happy just to hear that from his mother. Words could not describe that feeling.

Which reminded him. He should probably have a chat with them once her got home.

He skated hurriedly back to his place. Super speed was an option, but why bother with it? Skateboarding was fun.

And, shortly after his mother had fallen asleep, he'd finally arrived back home.

Now, Maximillian Hunter was not a teen without vices, and one of those vices was being the kind of child not to check his phone for new chat messages for long periods of time, especially once hed left the house to skate board or to go to a gaming locale.

Had his mother called him, perhaps, this scenario could have been avoided.

But, Max, worry-free and unsuspectingly walked into his house, unlocking the door and walking in.

Max: Mom... I'm home.

He was sure not to be too loud or too soft. In the distance, he could hear a shower running and immediately assumed that that had to be her.

Max: (thinking: Just a normal day, then.)

He walked up the stairs after placing his board at the doorstep and walked up the stairs.

For a brief moment before this, he noticed the mess in the kitchen but ignored it. After all, maybe his mom was just busy.

The shower stopped.

And Max simply walked towards his room, passing the door to the bathroom.

He heard footsteps walking to open the door and heard the door click open.

However, he did not expect a foreign voice to say.

Rose: M... Max?

He turned around to see a blushing Rose in a towel, to which his only response was to loudly yell...

Max: ROSE!?