Downhill From There

The night sky befell the City of Houston. Stars twinkled like glitter on a dark velvet dress. It was about ten o'clock at night and the cities activity had been a bit dwindled so that they people could return home to their families. The street lights were guides to those strutting the sidewalks to make their way home.

VROOM VROOM The roar of an engine could be heard in the distance. Someone pushing a motorcycle came rushing through the streets at great speeds, before having to stop at a red light. He'd squeezed the brake near the thruster, coming to a complete halt then threw his leg to the ground to achieve stability. The person riding the bike had their face covered by a helmet; a tool used for protection against falling off of the vehicle.

The light turned green and he took off once again and turned at the next left turn that he could. He began to ease down on his break to turn into the parking lot of a restaurant. Once parked he lifted his leg over the bike so that he could stand straight up. He stretched a bit, throwing his arm over his chest and hugging it tightly. He removed the helmet from his head, revealing his face to the empty city streets.

His skin was brown, much like that of any chocolate candy bar from a local store. He brushed his hand through his spiky hair which had been cut into a buzzcut on the sides; it was a unique mohawked style. He possessed gold eyes that gave a glimmer of light to the immediate area of his face, dazzling if you will.

He'd been dressed rather lazily as though he'd just finished some sort of sports activity. A grey hooded zip-up jack, which at the time had been unzipped revealing a white t-shirt, and a pair of grey sweatpants to match. His feet were covered by a pair of grey stripped running shoes.

Flinging his bag from his back to the back of his motorcycle he began to make his way towards the empty restaurant. Upon entering he'd instantly be met by a man who was about in his late forties and a young lady who'd been around the same age of the motorcycle riding boy.

"Michael!" The man shouted, throwing his arms up in a welcoming manner while still holding onto the towel in his hand. "How ya' feelin'? Big game tomorrow!"

Michael Davis was the boy who'd just entered the facility and the one who'd been riding the motorcycle. Michael had quite the reputation in his city, he was the boy who'd carried his team to the final round of the March Madness tournament. An elite basketball player who'd had a promising future ahead of himself.

"Yeah, we are supposed to be restin' today. But I still needed to get some shots up to stay on the roll." The mohawked teen responded.

"The Cougars haven't made it this far into the playoffs in I don't know how long." The man chuckled. "And to think it'd be that same snot nosed lil' boy who used to run up in here for a glass of water when he was young, that would carry us to the top. You're eighteen, one of the youngest, yet smoothest cats I've seen play the game in quite some time. How's the draft looking for you?"

Smiling at the man's words, Michael shook his head and pulled out a se4at to sit himself down. "Yeah, yeah, and you bust me every time for that too Mr. Pryor." Michael let out a laugh at the man's statement about him running into his restaurant asking for water when he was young. "It's a'ight. From what my agent sayin' Imma' potential lottery pick."

"LOTTERY PICK?!" Mr. Pryor shouted to the top of his lungs, veins popping out of his neck as he did. "Phew, I won't lie. I'm hella excited, but you average more assist than everyone. How tha' hell are you a lottery pick? Twenty five points, fifteen assist? The Cougars got one of the highest scoring teams in the game right now."

There was a moment of silence. "The small forward from Duke..." Michael mumbled, "...He's explosive. Mans' nice. The final game of March Madness for the championship."

"Exactly, so don't even think too much on it. Lamaria, grab us some drinks." Mr. Pryor commanded the girl next to him.

Lamaria Pryor, Mr. Pyror's daughter and the girl Michael had known for most of his life. She and Michael had always been friends for as long as they could remember, attending nearly every level of school together. She'd even attended the same college as Michael, the University of Houston, where she'd been studying to become a veterinarian.

"Yes dad..." She sighed, swinging her neck and rolling her eyes as she headed to the kitchen.