A Reason to Exist

Chapter 53

I sat on the steps at St Kilda skate park. Lichten shouted out directions, Johnny filmed, Forbes managed the crowd. They'd cleared the way for Tucker. He had the flow to himself, he had the sun, the breeze, the thrill of the wheels beneath him. He bent his knees, raised his arms, twisted and turned. He was the new trend, the just discovered phenomenon. The crowd knew they were witnessing something special. They drank Gatorade, hands saluting their foreheads, squinting, watching. They were hyped on Tucker, they took their own videos, hashtag stkildaskatepark, because they didn't know Tucker's name yet. They forgot about their parents, their presentation on Monday, their rejection, their shitty casual job, their oily skin, that new game they couldn't afford. This was new hope right here, right now. This was the time they saw that guy. This was the story they'll tell their friends tomorrow, next week, next year.

I was Tucker's greatest fan, his most loving lover, his most adoring adorer. He sneaked a look at me, and in that moment, I knew that the only person he wanted watching was me. I saw his eyes check for my eyes and he found comfort; he sped up, he jumped higher, he landed stronger, he smiled wider. Our love is paved in concrete. We are solid.

Finally Lichten called cut and the whole crowd erupted in a cheer. Tucker slowed down. His t-shirt was dripping with sweat. Strangers put their arms around him and patted him on the back. He looked overwhelmed. He liked attention, but this was too much. I walked over and made my way through the crowd and held a bottle of water out to him. He took it, gratefully, and winked at me. He took a sip, smiled, nodded at some platitudes and announced 'I'm beat.' He was out of breath and his chest was rising and falling quickly. He wiped a brow. He had given it all for the camera this morning.

The three Americans steered us away from the crowd and we got into their white mini-bus. There was filming equipment across four of the seats and a tub of empty cans and fast food wrappers that we had to step across to get to the back seat. Johnny closed the sliding door, trapping in the smell of sweat and aftershave.

'You did well,' Lichten said to Tucker. 'That was a big crowd for a Saturday morning.' Lichten turned to Johnny. 'Can you edit out all those gawkers?'

'Yeah, should be able to,' Johnny says.

'We like our shots to look natural, not like some kind of spectacle,' Lichten explained. 'Nothing worse than everyone standing around gawking like that. Don't worry, we'll be able to manage the other shots better. That was always going to be the most popular spot.'

Tucker looked out the window. I hadn't seen this version of him before. He was quiet and introspective and it made me like him even more. I reached my fingers over his knee and grabbed his hand and he turned his head towards me. I mouthed the words, 'You okay?' and he nodded and smiled with substance.

Lichten lifted up a plastic tub and placed it on his knees. 'You want a new t-shirt for the next shot?' he asked Tucker. 'You can have a new one for each shot, if you want. We've got tonnes. What size are you? We've got Hurley and Brixton and Oakley and Supreme. We've done work for all these guys and we end up with twenty million t's.'

He started holding t-shirts up for Tucker to see. 'Oh wow, yeah, I'd love that ... ah yeah, that one too ... let me see.' He ripped his sweaty t-shirt off and I saw his torso, his ribs and his finely formed chest. His shorts hung low and I saw the elastic label of his Bonds underwear, underlining his belly button. Blood flowed to my cheeks and neck. His topless flesh was temptation. Desire lifted her skirt and flashed her see-through knickers. I felt red and breathless, arriving at the destination of lust.

I imagined his body on a bed, his head thrown back on a pillow, my bare chest pressed against his bare chest. I could see every muscle in his shoulders and arms and I wanted those arms and those muscles wrapped around me. I wanted to run a fingertip along his collarbone to his hip bone. I wanted to plant a kiss in the centre of his chest bone and spend ten hours lying together in bed exploring each other's bodies.