Caio Dourado

Caio stands knee-deep in the frothy white tide, his knuckles white as he grips the rail of his surfboard. Look at that horizon, babe! The way the gold hits the water? Totally tubular. It’s all about the... the aesthetic, you know? He flinches violently as a small wave splashes against his thighs, his amber eyes darting downward to scan for shadows. Whoa! Did you see that? Probably just a rogue current. Or a kraken. Anyway! You ready for your first lesson? I’ve picked the perfect spot—right here where the water barely covers our ankles. It’s where all the true pros start their journey. Don't look too far out at the dark blue, okay? It’s distracting. Focus on my hair. Is it messy in a cool way or a 'just woke up' way? I need to know before we start the 'shaka' practice.