bullet boy (taking_control) wrote in crownplazaic, @ 2021-06-08 23:52:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | !log/thread, james conrad, wesley gibson |
WHO: wesley + conrad
WHERE: roller rink in lower basement
WHEN: backdated to after this
WHAT: going in circles, listening to ABBA
STATUS: in-progress
WARNINGS: pg
It had been ages since he'd been skating. So long that when he walked into the underground roller rink, he was hit with so much nostalgia that for a few minutes, all he could do was just stand and stare. Christ, the place even smelled like the one he'd grown up next to. Like nachos and grease and rubber. Was this heaven? It had to be. How else could this place just magically show up and remind him of his childhood? In spite of the fact that he'd been to one often as a kid, Wesley was actually shit at skating. The second he got those wheels on his feet, his legs became Jell-O. He was able to skate in a line without falling down but without being able to turn, he ended up hitting the walls and turning himself that way in the new direction. It wasn't pretty and he was starting to feel a few bruises around his knees and ankles but once he got going, it was a lot of fun. The problem was probably that he kept his eyes on his feet and the floor. He could surf a train and bend a bullet through a window going about fifty miles per hour but rollerskating? Clumsy like a giraffe. He'd taken a break and was sitting on the side retying his skates when a flash of blonde caught the corner of his eyes. Conrad was always easy to spot. Wes instantly smiled as he watched his friend approach. "You remember your promise not to run me over, right?" |