Chapter Text
Michael Jones was the shit. He was at the top of the world, both in and outside of surfing. Endless streams of girls, parties littered with stars, and pay cheques with more zeroes than most people could ever imagine made life the best it could possibly be for him. On top of it all, he was yet to run into a component who came even close to beating him in the competitions he entered. Which is why the random appearance of some newbie named Gavin Free was immediately shrugged off.
“Michael, stop being a dick. He’s new to the business, he probably doesn’t know anyone. Just invite him to the damn party.” As much as he loved her, Michael genuinely hated Lindsay sometimes.
“Yeah, he’s probably some idiot who thinks he’s the shit. I don’t want to deal with that again.”
“Michael,” Lindsay sighed, “Don’t be a prick.”
“Linds—”
“No. I’m going to give him an invite, you’re going to shut up and at least try to be friendly for once, and everything will go splendidly.” She sauntered off and down the hallway towards the office she had claimed for herself in his apartment. Michael sighed and leaned his head back against his couch, listening to the ever-constant sounds of the waves breaking and crashing. He loved what he did, truly he did, but he really hated having to play nice around a bunch of fucktards who thought that they were the best thing to walk the earth. He just wanted to surf, and he’d always felt most comfortable alone on his board, waiting for the waves.
Really, the main reason he chose to move to Hawaii was for the solidarity. It was easy enough to blend into the crowd at first, just follow the island flow, but as he climbed his way to the top in the surfing world he was faced with tourists recognizing him everywhere he went. Fuck, he couldn’t even go to the grocery store without at least five people stopping him before he got to the milk.
To make it better, Lindsay had decided to take the role of his manager and PA. And according to Lindsay, it was best for his career to hold bi-monthly dinner parties for some of the head honchos in the business. Michael did have to admit that he had grown to almost enjoy them, for the most part. Usually it was just him, Geoff—who was his coach, and almost always a little tipsy—his wife Griffon, Jack, who was his first (and favorite) sponsor and made the best fucking boards, Ryan, Michael wasn’t really sure of his importance anymore, but he was a pretty decent guy, and Ray, who was possibly the only other surfer that Michael could stand and still one of the few people who stood any chance of kicking his ass.
Additions to the group were rare and Michael always felt weird about them. Lindsay had tried to invite a newbie before—Caleb Delencour—and he ended up hanging around long enough to get some information on Michael before pissing off. If he hadn’t been a pretty fucking awful surfer, he could’ve easily used what he had learned to kick Michael’s ass. Needless to say, he was a little apprehensive of newbies. But Gavin was staying with the Ramsey’s and if Geoff trusted him enough to let him stay in his home, Michael had to assume he was an okay guy. And if Geoff was willing to train him alongside Michael, he had to be pretty fucking good.
“Good news!” Lindsay smiled as she bounded cheerfully back into the room, “Gavin has enthusiastically accepted!” She giggled and plopped down on the couch next to him, poking at his cheek like she always did when she wanted him to smile. It worked. “Hey, did you know he’s British?”
Michael raised an eyebrow, “Is he?” Lindsay nodded, “Huh. No I didn’t. You don’t really see a lot of British surfers, though.”
“That’s true.”
“How does he know the Ramsey’s, anyway?”
Lindsay shrugged, “Not sure. I think Geoff said he saw a video of Gavin surfing online? Apparently, before Geoff approached him, he had never even thought of surfing professionally. He’d never competed.”
“What?” Michael shook his head, “No. No fucking way.”
“No, seriously. Geoff was just telling me about it. Apparently he blew through the first competition he was in. According to Geoff, he’s going to be at your level within weeks.”
“So this kid just… randomly knows how to surf?”
“I guess? All I know is that he only posted that video to show off some sort of slow-motion camera. Fucking lucky break, though, right?” She shrugged, “You really should stop calling him a kid, though. He’s your age.”
Michael nodded, but didn’t say anything. Geoff thought he would be ready to compete at his level in weeks. A random British guy with no real experience. He would have to have a heck of a lot of raw talent to have Geoff be that confident in him. Needless to say, Michael was interested in meeting him.
Ryan, as usual, arrived first to the dinner, closely followed by Jack and Ray. Michael said some short ‘hello’s, but his mind was preoccupied with the thought of meeting miracle-kid Gavin Free. Naturally, though, Geoff was almost always late, and tonight was no different. He sauntered through the door—without knocking—half an hour after he was supposed to arrive, with Griffon trailing in behind him all apologies and “God, he’s an idiot sometimes, I’m sorry”. Shortly behind her walked in Gavin Free. Michael looked him over, taking into note that he was a tiny bit shorter than him—roughly an inch or two—and that Gavin was considerably scrawnier than him. His hair stuck up in weird angles that were not all purposeful, but definitely what was considered “stylish”, and to top it all off he was grinning like an idiot.
“Hello!” He said cheerfully once he caught Michael’s eye, “I’m Gavin! You must be Michael!”
He already kind of hated how chipper he was, but Michael tried his hardest to be polite, taking Gavin’s offered hand and allowing his arm to be heaved up and down a few times. “Yeah. Nice to meet you.”
“Wow, Michael. Your place is top!” He moved closer to Michael, lowering his voice and glancing around, “Don’t tell Geoff, but it’s much nicer than his place. You’re right on the beach!”
“Yeah, well, surfing is my job.”
“I know. Geoff’s told me all about you!” Gavin, Michael realized as he watched the man speak, hands flying around and face animated with glee, was really fucking talkative. It was really fucking annoying. “—and you haven’t been beaten yet, right? That’s pretty cool!”
“Yeah, sure. Uh, Lindsay?” Michael called, watching as she appeared at the end of the hallway leading to her office.
“Yeah—oh, hi Gavin!” She smiled brightly at him, “Glad you could come. I’ll introduce you to everyone, since I know Michael didn’t do it.”
“That’d be top, thanks.”
“We’ll leave Mr. Grumpy to himself.” Lindsay joked as she pulled Gavin towards Jack, sticking her tongue out at him for good measure. Michael sometimes missed dating her, but at the same time he liked having her as his friend. The feelings required for a relationship that she deserved just weren’t there for Michael. They never had been. For as long as he could remember, the only thing that he loved wholly and truly was surfing.
“So what do you think?” Geoff asked from beside him, pulling Michael out of his thoughts and making him jump.
“Of what?”
“Of Gavin, what else do you think?”
“He’s…” Michael tried to find a sort of nice think to say. “He’s… enthusiastic?”
“He’s kind of a little shit.”
Michael laughed, reminded once again of why he liked Geoff so much, “Yeah, kind of.”
“But he’s a really fucking talented little shit.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I’m going to be bringing him to training in the morning.”
“What?” Michael quickly shook his head, “No, I don’t think so. You know the rules, Geoff.”
“Oh stop being a baby. It’ll be good for both of you.” Michael tried to argue, but Geoff held up a hand. “No, don’t even try it. He’s annoying as dicks and I’m going to murder him if I’m left by myself with him.”
“Don’t you remember what happened with Caleb?”
“Do you really think he’s that clever, Michael?”
“Well—I mean…” He sighed in defeat, “I guess not.”
“Good, I’ll see you tomorrow morning, five o’clock sharp.”