With a few quick steps, Luke made it to the floor-to-ceiling window, standing next to the tall, burly Black dude. But man, his brain was totally fried, and he had no clue how to kick things off.
"This city is dead boring," he finally blurted out. The other guy didn't even seem to notice Luke was there, and Luke was struggling to break the ice. After a bit of awkward silence, he gave it a shot.
The guy chuckled, "That's 'cause you haven't been to Greenwood."
"Where?" Luke shot back without thinking.
The dude laughed, "Exactly. It's a place no one's heard of. Down in Mississippi, there are tons of spots like that. For me, Indianapolis is a blast."
"Seriously? Even if you haven't been anywhere else, you gotta admit this background music is whack," Luke said, throwing his hands up in mock disgust.
They both went quiet, and the lobby's background music came into focus. It was Justin Bieber's "Baby." Talk about a mismatch. This was the Midwest, where even the worst cowboys would pick country or rock. So many classics to choose from, and they went with Bieber?
Indianapolis and Justin Bieber—definitely the weirdest combo Luke had ever seen, especially at a football rookie training camp, a sport known for its grit!
The other guy caught the joke right away, a smirk forming on his lips, "Back home, it's all about jazz and soul. The lobby manager here should take a trip to Greenwood. Might fix his taste in music."
"See, that's what I'm saying! Indianapolis is a snooze fest," Luke repeated. The guy raised an eyebrow and said, "But Greenwood? You've never heard of it, and trust me, you wouldn't want to."
Luke laughed, shrugging, "Now I'm curious what would happen if the New York Giants picked you." New York, the city that never sleeps, was the most vibrant place in America.
"I hope I can handle it," the guy chuckled, but didn't say more, and the conversation hit another lull.
This back-and-forth was driving Luke nuts. He was about to play his ace when the guy suddenly asked, "Are you hitting on me?"
Luke blinked, totally confused, "What gave you that idea?" Then, waving his hand, "What made you so sure?"
The two similar questions had totally different vibes, and the guy burst out laughing, shrugging, "I dunno, maybe 'cause you came over to chat? Talked about music? Mentioned New York? Back home, New York's the ultimate pick-up line."
Luke genuinely laughed this time. He thought the guy had no sense of humor, but he was wrong, "The right move would've been me holding two beers, asking what you're up to, and if you took out two people today. No room for misunderstandings."
The Midwest is all about legal gun ownership, and folks are tough, just like their bar encounter earlier. Luke was joking about it.
The guy got the joke right away, a smile spreading across his face, "But there's no beer and no guns now, so what's the plan?"
Luke saw the mischievous glint in the guy's eyes. An idea hit him, and he raised his hands, suddenly dropping into a horse stance, bending his back, twisting his shoulders, and straightening his waist, like he was doing a Maori war dance. The sudden move was so fierce and intimidating that the guy was stunned, his playful look turning to shock.
A prankster always has a counter-prank ready.
The next second, Luke started imitating the Maori dance, moving forward with serious energy, circling the guy while shouting.
The other rookies around them noticed the commotion, turning their heads curiously to watch, their eyes full of confusion.
The guy stared at Luke, then realized he was the center of attention. He looked down at Luke's smug face, clearly another prank. The guy laughed helplessly. But he wasn't one to back down, so he followed Luke's moves, awkwardly mimicking the dance.
The two of them actually started an awkward dance-off right there, face to face. The kicker? Their dance had zero to do with the lobby's background music! The beats were all over the place, the steps were a hot mess, and the mismatched rhythm made everyone cringe. It was a real spectacle! Especially with "Baby" playing in the background, it was enough to make everyone facepalm. They hadn't noticed it before, but now it was painfully obvious.
Seeing such a hilarious scene, laughter started to ripple through the crowd. Some players nearby couldn't help but join in, awkwardly swaying along, causing waves of laughter and lighting up the whole hotel lobby.
Panting heavily, Luke chuckled, "Man, that dance took more outta me than an actual game." He laughed and talked while catching his breath, accidentally choking on his saliva and coughing, but he was laughing even harder.
At that moment, the embarrassment hit him, and Luke couldn't help but cover his face: What the heck had he just done? All for the task, everything was for the task!
"You're a funny dude. I mean, the Asians I've met are usually kinda uptight, not much humor," the other guy said, pausing for a moment before adding, "At least in Greenwood, that's the case. It's a tiny, tiny town."
"What surprises me more is that Greenwood even has Asian immigrants?" Luke's question was a bit out of left field, and they both shared a smile.
"Alton Smith, linebacker."
"Linebacker?" Luke raised an eyebrow. This was the fourth linebacker he'd run into since starting his special task this afternoon. Was he stuck in a linebacker loop today? Seeing Alton's puzzled smile, Luke burst into laughter and introduced himself, "Luke Howard, quarterback." Then he pulled out his phone, "So, how about a selfie?"
"Selfie?" Alton looked surprised, "You mean, like high school girls?"
Luke laughed again, "Yep, just like high school girls."
Alton thought for a moment, then nodded, "Alright, no problem!"
Selfie accomplished! It wasn't as tough as he thought. On the contrary, Luke had actually made a friend. Alton was indeed an interesting guy, and Alton thought the same of Luke. Now it seemed like the system's special task made some sense.
After saying goodbye to Alton, Luke got more proactive. He approached a group of rookies nearby, using his journalistic skills to the fullest, joining their conversations, talking about the training camp, Indianapolis, and the recently concluded Super Bowl. Things were going way smoother than he had imagined.
If it were just chatting or interviewing, today would undoubtedly be a blast. However, before ending each conversation, Luke would always ask for a selfie. Such a girlish request was indeed a bit strange, but after the bizarre dance earlier, people were no longer surprised.
"Hey, young man." Luke was about to move on when he heard a shout. Following the voice, he saw a group of four or five people by the elevator. One short, chubby man with a white beard, wearing a San Francisco 49ers cap, raised his right hand in a greeting gesture and joked, "Are you collecting trading cards for your sister or gathering player info?"
A skinny guy next to him, wearing a Seattle Seahawks jersey, chimed in, "Or are you just leaving a memento of your visit?"
If the first guy's words were just light-hearted banter, the second guy's words had a hint of racial discrimination, and his tone was pretty nasty.
This group looked middle-aged, and their bodies were slightly out of shape, clearly not rookies. They seemed more like team staff, coaches, or assistants. In the rookie training camp, they were the ones holding the power of life and death. Before rookies became stars, it was best not to tick them off.
Luke didn't plan to start a fight, but he also wasn't about to swallow his pride. He shouted back, "Haven't you heard of a yearbook? Or is high school and college too far behind you to remember?"
Luke explained his earlier behavior as creating a "yearbook," recording all the partners from the same rookie training camp, which was indeed very commemorative. At the same time, he subtly mocked their age and education, completing his counterattack effortlessly.
All the rookies and other staff around burst into laughter. The short, chubby guy also laughed heartily, but the skinny guy's face turned sour. He rolled his eyes at Luke, then turned around, giving Luke the cold shoulder.