Summary: You had never thought that you could get whiplash so easily. A sudden move to Santa Monica, though, changes your life completely, and you're faced with nothing but a blank canvas. If that wasn't enough, the first sight of a mysterious surfer is enough to turn your life upside down.
"Think you can handle closing up on your own? My daughter is not feeling too well."
The distant sun painted your face with hot streaks as you applied sunscreen, your eyes looking at the small tower to see Cody, your colleague, with his phone pressed to his ear. His red swimwear was hidden behind a pair of shorts, the word 'lifeguard' no longer visible as he begged to leave the job early.
"I've got it," you winked his way. "Just leave the keys in my hoodie."
"You're the best, I owe you one." The older man mumbled, sending a quick wave before heading towards the nearest parking lot. You faced the ocean as soon as his figure disappeared, still not well accustomed to the new location.
The waves were just the same, the sun was just as hot, but you still didn't feel at home quite yet. You had left your former colleagues to help out in Santa Monica, leaving behind your old apartment, friends, and memories as you started from zero all over again.
You felt a little out of place as you carried a rescue can by your side, your hair pulled up messily as you scanned the distance. Your whistle felt heavy around your wrist as the sound of waves hitting the sand played as a lullaby for your racing thoughts.
As you looked in the distance and ignored the giggles of the kids a few feet down, you watched a surfer paddle over the clear water, his wetsuit covering an Adonis-like body that you couldn't help but admire even from the distance.
His naturally dark skin shone under the mid-afternoon sun rays as he prepared to ride a wave, his body eventually standing up over his board and gliding smoothly against the clear water.
His preciseness pulled a smile on your lips, eyes struggling to leave his frame as you forced yourself to scan the distance again. Keeping close to the tower, you tried your best to work, even when your brain could only go back to the mysterious surfer and his unmatchable vibe.
You had always loved surfers, even at your past job.
Their colorful boards, the adrenaline that left their mouths with every excited yell, the mysterious lives that hid behind their wetsuits. Their lifestyle had always been unforgettable and, even after several years, you couldn't help but wish you could experience a small bit of it.
Closing time was getting closer and closer as the time ticked, the sun lowering with every passing second as the wind picked up. The beach had grown emptier by the clock reached six, the ocean clear of swimmers as you did the last check-ups and closed up the tower.
Looking in the distance, you struggled to see the surfer again, his figure had disappeared. You let out a sigh as you slipped your backpack over your shoulders, announcing one last time that the service was not provided anymore.
As you walked away and felt the sand slip away from under your naked feet, you couldn't help but take a glance at the seaside restaurant-bar. Its beauty relied on old surfboards hung on the walls, simple furniture in dark shades of green and little wooden tables that you wouldn't find anywhere. The large windows that faced the beach were big enough for you to glance inside, a familiar board catching your eye.
The man who was holding it had his hair in a ponytail of braids, two front strands pushed behind his ears as the rim of his beer bottle brushed his plush lips. Hands covered in tattoos were all you could think about as you slipped on your flip-flops, heading towards the streets to reach your apartment.
